Initially, the morning of Arafat’s death was, for me, just another day of Ramadan; which means I must remember not to eat or smoke in the streets out of respect for those who are fasting. But the Mosque was singing continuously that morning, and something felt wrong. I heard the news from a friend by phone, and saw immediately in the streets the new Shaheed (“Martyr”) posters being pasted onto every public space available.

I walked with another friend through the quiet streets until I got to work—one of the few buildings still open on the first day of mourning. I had shed no tears for Arafat, personally. I won’t go in to the politics of the man—his strengths, weaknesses or achievements and failures etc—there is plenty written already on that (see below). But what struck me, and indeed all of the internationals I met that day, was a sense of grief in the air which affected us all. The whole of the West Bank and Gaza Strip was mourning, and we were in the middle of that grief, experiencing a collective sadness which we couldn’t avoid.

Frustrated at not being able to concentrate on work or anything other than Arafat, we joined the local demo at lunch time and in the evenings. The next day, Friday, there was only one place to be: Al Mukata, Arafat’s compound in Ramallah.

From Jerusalem we went to the most photographed checkpoint in the West Bank, Qalandiya, and were pleased/ surprised to get through to Ramallah. We’d never seen it so open, and couldn’t work out why. I later thought that this was for the press, as there had never been so many journalists in Ramallah, so they wanted to make it look open and say; “this is what it’s like when the West Bank is sealed.”

Conspiracy theories aside, we arrived at the compound just after Arafat: we were in a taxi as we watched the Helicopters coming into Ramallah, in a sort of car chase the compound. The place was heaving, and more people were leaving than entering when we got in, but it was still packed. It was all gunshots and chanting, but no political speeches or rally. Abu Mazen had not even got out of the helicopter, apparently fearing for his life. It seemed like the new PA leadership had no control or even aspirations to use the event politically for their own ends.

Marching bands, twenty-one gun salutes, etc. had been planned, but there was no way to stop the thousands of Palestinians pouring over the walls and into the compound to take part in their own ceremony and held for themselves the chaotic burial. It was clearer than ever that Arafat was/ is the one man who really symbolized their struggle. It is easy to underestimate how strong this sentiment is here. People are critical of Arafat, of course, but at the same time, it was he, more than anyone else, who fought for them, spoke for them, brought their plight to the international recognition it now has: without him, the press wouldn’t have even been there in Palestine, in such numbers—even if only for the day of his burial.

Arafat died at about three in the morning, the day after a particularly holy night during Ramadan. If he had died a few hours before, he would have been considered even more blessed in the Muslim world. A Palestinian joked to me that this was yet another historic opportunity missed…

There was no doubting that he would have loved being surrounded by his people in the compound, and it was in the end a fitting ceremony for him and for the Palestinians.

Whilst it sounds a cliché, there is no denying the historic significance of the occasion. We watched the dust fill the air as the helicopters left, and I tried to get some more people to talk to me about what it means for Palestine—most people, though, just wanted to mourn and express their support for Arafat and the goal of a Palestinian state he fought all his life to achieve. And on this day in particular, they were coming together for the first time in such large numbers. One woman told me how empowering it was just being with so many other Palestinians gathered at the same place at the same time.

As I got back to West Jerusalem, I had to hide my newly acquired Arafat poster from the Orthodox Jews passing us in the streets of the Russian compound: some groups had been celebrating in the streets at the news of his death.

The next day I wrote an article about what this event means for Palestinians (see below). Now we’re back to ‘business as usual’, and nobody knows exactly what will happen next. But in this country, not knowing what the future holds is the norm.

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“ARAFAT IS DEAD – LONG LIVE PALESTINE!”

Palestine woke up to a day of national mourning, grief, and uncertainty of what lies ahead when Yassir Arafat was finally declared dead on Thursday 11 November. After nearly three weeks of anticipation, conflicting reports, widespread belief amongst Palestinians that he had been poisoned, denials and counter-claims, Arafat eventually succumbed to a mystery illness, aged 75.

The Israeli press had been predicting chaos and civil war as a result, but Palestinians had no such plans. Initial reactions to the future of the Palestinian struggle were mixed, but most people wanted simply to unite around the death of their leader.

Men and women wept in the street over their loss. Mourning for the death of the man was coupled with a profound sense of defeat, with the goal of a Palestinian state as far away as it ever was under his leadership.

Such a sense of defeat was expressed by Dina, a school teacher from Jerusalem, who told me: “Without Arafat our cause is dead. The cause of Palestine was buried with Arafat.”

The poorly organized, chaotic burial at the Mukata in Ramallah was significant for many. Not a single political speech or rallying cry was heard by the current leadership at the burial, and a more political demonstration was expected by disappointed men and women who had flocked to his battered compound.

If the current leadership of the PA could not even inspire them at the funeral of Arafat — who represented “Palestine” more than anyone else — then what hope is there that they will lead the Palestinian people to victory?

Others were more optimistic, however. Arafat’s legacy will live on, said Yousef, a student at Ber Zeit University in Ramallah: “Arafat refused to surrender to the Zionists at Camp David... he has drawn red lines which future leaders cannot cross. Anyone who carries the torch of Palestinian liberation must follow in his footsteps.”

Lionised as the hero of Palestinian people by many, others were less unflinching in their support for Arafat. But during the mourning period, there will be very little criticism of him within Palestinian political discourse. He was no Joseph Stalin: there will be no outpouring of anger over the authoritarian style, corruption or megalomania of Arafat’s leadership in the immediate aftermath.

The corruption of the PA looks set to continue in Arafat’s footsteps, however, with Arafat’s widow Suha receiving a USD 60 million ‘inheritance’ and a further sum of USD 22 million a year for the rest of her life’s “living expenses” — an obscene amount considering 65 percent of Palestinians in the Gaza Strip are living in poverty. Whilst this is one aspect of Arafat’s legacy Palestinians prefer not to publicly talk about right now, Suha did not exactly win over many Palestinian hearts when she accused the leaders of the various factions of trying to bury Arafat alive when they came to visit him in hospital in Paris.

Everybody agrees that the only way to move forward in the aftermath of Arafat, who was the only man who could unite all the groups of the Palestinian resistance, is to work in coalition with all the factions. There can be no other way for now. The temporary alliance of the left, the Islamic and nationalist forces will mean unpopular moderates like ‘Abu Mazen’ only have limited powers.

But what then? How long can such an alliance last? Who will be able to “carry the torch” of the Palestinian resistance? “We don’t know,” is the usual response. One thing is clear: Arafat’s death has united Palestinian society, just as the Prisoners hunger strike did in August. Many thousands spontaneously gathered at the compound on Friday in Ramallah, and there were demonstrations in all cities and towns of the West Bank and Gaza Strip.

If you were to believe the bourgeois press across the world, and particularly Israeli media, you would be expecting immediate civil war. This wishful thinking on behalf of the Zionist lobby and their friends is based on the racist propaganda that Palestinians are naturally violent, incapable of peaceful coexistence. The blood thirsty Arabs will tear themselves apart in a power struggle as soon as the helicopters return to France, they would have us believe—and indeed mainstream Israeli society seemed to have swallowed this comfortable lie.

The truth is Palestine has become more untied in grief, and hold Israel responsible for his death. Whether or not he was poisoned, as many Palestinians believe, confining a man of his age to his compound for nearly three years had certainly exacerbated his ill health.

Indeed, Israel helped more than anyone else to remake Arafat as the hero he is today; besieged, threatened, and finally ignored by Israel, he claimed leadership of the second Intifada, at the start of which his popularity had significantly waned. But by 11 November, all shops and public services were closed, posters were put up over each and every public space, and Koranic mourning verses were sung from the Mosques’ loudhailers which dot the Palestinian skyline. As in life, as in death; Arafat the Shaheed (‘martyr’) is once again a hero.

In the unity represented by the death of Arafat, who was the only leader of the Arab world to claim a genuine election victory, leftist Palestinians claimed it was Israel who now faced a dilemma. Now they will have a new leadership to face, a united leadership, and they will no longer be able to claim the lack of a partner in dialogue. Israel, whilst threatening Arafat with deportation of worse, in reality needed Arafat alive in order for them to portray him as the bogeyman. And Israel is now facing fresh calls to renew talks with the Palestinians.

Others went further and favorably compared the current situation to the collective political leadership of the first Intifada. Whilst the long term future of the Palestinian struggle is unclear, the immediate reaction to Arafat’s passing away — buried on the second to last day of Ramadan, making him blessed, according to Islam — has been to unite and stand firm.

Whilst no inspiring leaders are about to emerge from the current PA, and the US continues to back the Israeli occupation without question, however, there are some signs of hope. At least for now it is agreed that a coalition will have to be built amongst the parties and factions, and a new generation of the second Intifada will inevitably replace the cronies of the ‘Tunisian PLO’.

As demonstrators chanted at the news of his passing away; “Arafat is dead—long live Palestine!”