Chapter Thirty Six: Cairo, the Gaza Strip and the Hamas. Kish arrived at Cairo airport at 0125hrs on Saturday 5th October. The weather was hot, it was at least 45 degrees c. Kish and his fellow passengers entered the customs area and queued up to present their passports. Security was everywhere; his mission notes had briefed him to not only look out for armed IDF soldiers and airport security which were in plain sight and clearly scanning all the passengers for unusual behaviour: but also undercover airport security that could be found on the passenger list. To his surprise the customs operation was quick, polite and efficient, this was one hell of an airport. The place was run as well as any other International airport, but to run with such efficiency, considering the constant threat of terrorist attack was something else. Kish was dressed as a scruffy westerner and did not particularly stand out from anyone else collecting their bags and heading for the concourse. But as he walked through the concourse and was quite casually looking for the correct exit sign, he felt a firm, strong grip on his upper arm. The sort of grip that instantly warns of an assailant who is not going to let go or start a polite conversation. ‘Come with me please sir’ ‘Pardon, I have done nothing wrong. What is wrong’? ‘Come with us sir’ Kish was man handled some - one hundred meters across the concourse, the obvious commotion causing some discomfort amongst other travellers in the airport. Once through a very innocuous looking door, and then some way down a well-lit corridor, Kish was pushed into an interview room. He really could not afford these delays and be tied up in some security loop of questioning and suspicion of terrorism. ‘Sit please’ He did so without question. The thought of how serious this may become, even life threatening, was a very big worry to the mission. The last security person left the room and Kish was on his own. The room was white and windowless. The door was white with a small glass portal at head height to assist a quick inspection of the interior. He was sat at a table with 2 chairs on the facing edge. The only other thing that caught his eye was a small camera mounted very high in the furthest corner of the room; he was on CCTV. Some thirty minutes passed by and Kish had no option but to stay calm and wait; but that would be what a professional would do; he decided to play up and act like a stressed out and genuine traveller who was annoyed at being incarcerated. The chair he was sat on flew across the room as he abruptly stood up and banged the table: ‘Where are my bags? Why am I here? Who is in charge? I want to complain’! ‘Bloody hell someone talk to me’. Some fifteen minutes later and two burly security officers, in uniform, entered the room and demanded Kish sit down and be quiet. Then immediately after this a senior office walked in, he was much smaller than the younger security officers but had the commanding presence of someone used to being in control. He sat down opposite Kish. ’Now Mr Kish Lieberman, please sit quietly while I explain the situation. Apart from having a nice Jewish name; you have absolutely no known links with Israel, its people or any business in this part of the world. What is going on Mr Lieberman? Why are you here? You are a perplexing problem that causes me some concern. Kish was about to reply when he was struck from behind with such force that he was knocked out cold and just slumped forward onto the table. The senior office barked out a series of commands: ‘Get him on the table. Strip him!’
It was during the strip search that another more senior officer entered the room and halted the proceedings. The interrogating office was not impressed and demanded to know why he had done so. The senior officer commanded the security guards to leave the room; he then instructed the interrogating officer that some intelligence had just been received from HQ. Mr Lieberman was on a special visit that would benefit the State of Israel and should be assisted at all costs and not hindered in his business. During this conversation, the senior officer calmly ‘tucked in’ behind Kish’s shirt, his Vitruvian man. He had seen the symbol over the CCTV and realised Kish was a catalyst to the big plan; he had to be saved. It was some time before Kish came to; his trousers and shirt were on but not buttoned up, everything else was on the floor next to him. Across the table sat a solid looking security officer with a uniform emblazoned with several symbols of rank, the guy looked important. As Kish rubbed his head and grimaced at the pain, he noticed they were the only two people in the room; the others had left. ‘Mr Lieberman. Please let me introduce myself; I am special officer Ismack, from the Directorate of Military Intelligence. It was unfortunate that my men somehow missed you on entering airport customs and then airport security picked you for a random check. Only pure chance ensured I was looking at the CCTV at the time you were being strip searched and your symbol de architecture came into view.’ ‘What symbol?’ ‘Do not be coy Mr Lieberman; my name is Abdul-Ahad and I am your Arab League contact. The rest of my delegation is waiting outside. These are important men; do not keep them waiting any longer. Put on this suit and smarten yourself up Remember your mission notes Mr Lieberman. At this precise time he turned over the lapel of his uniform to display a small gold lapel brooch of a Vitruvian man. Kish was stunned at how close he had come to failing in his mission. He continued to dress and compose himself. Good morning brother; is it still morning?’ ‘Yes Mr Lieberman, dress quickly we must go.’
The cover story for Kish was for him to join the Arab League monitors granted permission by the International community to inspect the welfare of the general population and report on the economic conditions of the Gaza Strip, since the steel wall had been erected. ‘It is now 10am and we must leave before the next security shift begins. I have enough to explain already’. Moments later they were striding through the administrative corridors of the airport. Several security staff stopped in their tracks, saluted Officer Ismack and let them pass. They kept walking through several lobbies and finally stepped into a lift which would take them down two levels to the staff car park. Four cars were already waiting; with at least a dozen people milling about impatiently. The delegation quickly took to their cars on seeing Ismack and Kish enter the car park; doors slammed shut one after another. Kish was guided to the lead car by Ismack. The doors closed and Kish instantly felt cocooned by the new world luxury interior of the Mercedes. Ismack’s driver speed out of the car park and headed for Ismailia and the coastal road to Rafah. It would take at least an hour to get there, Ismack advised Kish to take this opportunity and get some sleep. Kish was both mentally and physically exhausted; he drew the curtains of the side windows and let his head loll back onto the headrest. He closed his eyes and drifted along with the sweeping road. He awoke to shouting: check point Kish, wakeup. Check point. You have your documents, no? Yes its fine, they are all in order. Kish could see the newly installed and impenetrable barrier; supplied and installed by the Americans; its upper edge literally cutting into the sky, so unnatural in its presence within this landscape.
The barrier extends eighteen metres below ground cutting off all known smuggling tunnels and runs along the entire 4km border between Egypt and The Gaza Strip. Kish could also see that the checkpoint is open; but Ismack advised him that for normal Gazan’s this is not so; the steel wall might as well be continuous as they are not let through. The steel wall is merely a means to enforce sanctions against The Hamas, but it also punishes innocent people trying to live a normal life in this tiny patch of god’s given earth. The Israeli’s accuse the tunnel owners of smuggling guns and supporting The Hamas who control the whole west bank since they murdered the opposing party leader; can you believe they threw him off a building! Kish then replied: That may be so; but do you know at this point, if they renounce violence; we have no choice but to engage with them and bring them into the political fold of communication and sharing of power. Just think of all the innocent women, children and men suffering in their thousands because of this religious land grab. When will it ever end? How can it ever end except in war? ‘May be Kish-may be. The time is 1pm, we are nearly there, smarten up.’
The motorcade slowly came to halt. They were expected of course. The checkpoint guards checked their passports and physical likeness to the descr
iptions they had been given; everything checked OK and they were allowed through. ‘That was easy.’ ‘Here, now, yes it was easy but previous negotiations with Prime Minister Ismail Haniyeh for access to the strip were not. But he is desperate for funds to rebuild damaged buildings and infrastructure. The reality of winning control of any area is maintaining the economy and local infrastructure. Money talks, even in areas of religious conflicts. We are to stay at the Grand Palace Hotel, clean up, eat and commence our meeting tonight at eight in the main conference room.’ ‘Are we to meet in the hotel?’ ‘No; we will meet at the Islamic University of Gaza.’ ‘Isn’t that a Hamas headquarters?’ ‘No. The United Nations Fact Finding Mission on the Gaza Conflict cleared any suspicion that weapons were stored here. It is merely a civilian establishment and no misuse of its facilities has taken place. It is an ideal place for our meeting and the most important point is the Prime Minister agrees to the meeting. He has many problems and we can provide the solutions.’ ‘As representatives of the Arab League; here today in the Gaza Strip and our other teams in Damascus, will ensure civilian interests are prioritised. This program of negotiation and working in parallel with mothers plan should ensure success for us all, and a new history of peace and unity shall begin. We are here; let’s rest. Be ready for 7pm sharp.’
After something to eat and a few hours rest, Kish showered, shaved and dressed in a dark business like suit. It was 630pm and after one more check in the mirror, he took a deep breath and made his way to the reception area of the hotel. Once seated, he ordered coffee and took one of the free UK papers to pass the time. Ismack soon appeared and introduced him to the other six members of the delegation as they appeared; there had not been time beforehand. Firstly and most importantly to the head of the delegation: the former Sudanese Intelligence chief Lt Gen Mohammed Ahmed Mustafa al-Dabi. He was a bull of a man with calm intelligent eyes that instantly put Kish at ease. His hand shake was equally calm, but firm; very personable indeed. The Lt Gen proceeded to sit with Ismack and Kish to discuss their strategy for the next four hours. He was keen to remind Kish how ambitious the Prime Minister was, he had after all just violently evicted the ruling party from the Gaza strip, killing many in the process. If they could convince the Prime Minister their offers of political influence and unity was genuine, they may, just may, convince him to support a new Government of Unity. A driver appeared: The cars were ready. All seven promptly rose and walked with purposed toward the main exit of the hotel. A strict position of rank was maintained without thinking: firstly Lt Gen Mustafa al-Dabi, then Ismack, Kish and finally the other members of the Arab League.
People looked on as the three cars sped off, flags fluttering at the point and rear of each vehicle. Dust flew and slowly descended as dirty clouds. Security guards below the hotel canopy remained rigid with training and purpose; arms at the ready. The motorcade swept through the narrow and busy streets, occasionally passing by buildings damaged by recent air raids and civil war; most with walls pock marked by gun fire. They arrived at the university to be greeted by a choreographed dance routine of women in traditional Palestinian costumes. A small band played music as they danced and sang a warm welcome; the only odd thing about it all was the soldiers creating a ring of steel between us and the outside world. Prime Minister Ismail Haniyeh stood at the double door entrance of the university with two other men, obviously bodyguards. All three wore extremely smart suits and very wide smiles, ingratiating to say the least. The six of us, still maintaining our order of rank on the approach, returned the favour. The Lt General and Ismack shook hands with the prime minister while the rest of us filed in behind. Some small talk progressed over coffee and fruit juice. We then filed into what looked like a lecture hall. The Prime Minister started off by welcoming the Arab League monitors; praising their work and recommending projects that required further attention and their backing to secure funds for refurbishments. At this moment Ismack chose to interject and recommend to the prime minister that Kish be allowed to speak. He agreed. Good day prime minister. My name is Kish and my Grand Master from the United Grand Lodge of England has sent me to offer you a solution to your many problems. The prime minister and his aides looked bemused, a little angry even. Kish paused for a moment, but kept his nerve and proceeded. ‘I have just received confirmation via my sat phone that President Bashar Al-Assad has been assassinated.’ The look of shock as he realised his last line of financial support was severed was palpable. He was stunned into silence. His nearest aid raised his arms and went to speak but was silenced by the president as he continued to listen to the speech being made by Kish. ‘Now I know you remain on the hard line with regards your demands for a Palestinian State. But: You have lost partnership and allegiance with the Palestinian West Bank on the Golan Heights and Israel continues to whittle away at your military strength and social management. The Americans and Egyptians also collaborate to exercise sanctions against you. You are in short, being squeezed into the sea. I now, today, can offer you and your party 5 million Euros if you will join our Government of Unity and take up political seats to discuss and action - sharing this Promised Land between all the people of this land, regardless of religion, after all, we all follow and pray to the one and only true god YAHWEH. ‘We will never give up on our quest for a Palestinian State. It is an outrage.’ The two aides shouted and banged the table in defiance. The Arab League delegates watched and recorded our actions, saying nothing, but recording everything. Kish went silent and allowed the rant to continue unabated. Prime Minister Haniyeh, deep in thought, finally raised his head and spoke. ‘How can I trust you Kish?’ ‘One week from now an Interim meeting is being held in Jerusalem. And yes you will be guaranteed a safe passage. Delegates from Syria: where today, the Army has exercised a coup against the Baath Party. The West Bank and Golan Heights; where they have agreed a cease fire until the Interim talks are complete, and the Lebanon: where the Hezbollah have agreed the same, a cease fire; will all send selected personnel to represent their regional issues. And now all I need is your agreement to attend the Interim peace talks. And if the talks are successful and a Government of Unity is formed, you will receive your 5 million Euros. And any additional funding required to rebuild your community will be forth coming also.’
The Prime Minister and his aides, no doubt senior Hamas officers were shocked into submission, but were not voicing complaint. Ismack spoke once more. ‘The Arab League will also back the proposal with a letter of intent to support any and all parties engaging in the peace process.’ Prime Minister Haniyeh and his aides were still standing as if forming a wall of defiance against the siege of common sense now facing them. He requested a stay of twenty four hours to speak to the rest of his party and supporting factions. Gentleman as much as I can see progress for all parties I am unable to make such decisions alone. We must meet again twenty four hours from now. Good bye for now gentleman. My aides will contact you to confirm the time of our meeting. Upon this statement they walked out of the conference hall and left.