INSIDE THE SUMMIT

By Bruce W. Nelan

Handshakes, public and private, carried more symbolism than usual during the 36-hour Middle East summit at the White House last week. Each of the leaders taking part in the meeting and most of the millions watching it held in their mind an image of that awe-inspiring 1993 handshake on the South Lawn. Now, however, Yasser Arafat was face to face with Benjamin Netanyahu, the head of a very different Israeli government, and most onlookers hoped the magic of a handshake might cast another spell. In the closing moments outside the White House on Wednesday, Netanyahu grasped Arafat's hand and pumped it, adding his left hand atop the grip. Arafat joined in, leaning toward the Israeli, smiling broadly. It was symbolic. But was it significant? After that farewell, Arafat's hands were empty again.

It was a summit on short notice. But the peace process was threatened by the worst fighting between Palestinians and Israelis in 30 years. Something had to be done immediately. As a State Department official put it, "We're not talking voluntary checkup here. We're talking emergency-room procedure." Stanching the bleeding proved to be perhaps no better than first aid. In public the principals mustered a modest bonhomie to mute the disappointment. But TIME's look behind the closed-door negotiations, from Jerusalem to Cairo to Washington, found that under the smiles and civility lies the old intransigence.

At first the summit was to be held in Cairo. But Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak refused to be host unless Netanyahu agreed in advance to some substantive concessions, which he did not. Since speed was essential, Clinton accepted Secretary of State Warren Christopher's suggestion that the U.S. President convene the summit in Washington. The invitations went out. But Arafat delayed his response as long as he could, hoping for some sign of concessions from Netanyahu.

Arafat spent much of Monday, Sept. 30, in the grand salon of Mubarak's summer residence near Alexandria. He said he felt he could go to Washington only if Mubarak joined him there. But Mubarak did not believe Netanyahu would agree to any concessions, and he declined an invitation to the summit. Mubarak, aides indicated, was no longer willing to take domestic political risks for a peace process stalled by Israel. But the Egyptian President insisted that Arafat go anyway. "Mubarak spent three hours convincing him he should," says an Egyptian official. "Mubarak told him, 'You have a cause to fight for.'"

Netanyahu for his part had readily agreed to the summit--but not to concessions. He made it clear to reporters on his plane on the way over that he assumed Clinton would press hard for concessions. Presumably those would start with closing the archaeological tunnel that had touched off the violence and follow with a firm date for redeploying Israeli troops in the West Bank city of Hebron, a step already six months overdue. He was more than ready to resist.

Once Arafat and Netanyahu were in Washington, the Americans began consulting with them on areas where they might be prepared to make progress, soundings that normally would have been done in advance. Late Monday night at the White House, Clinton sat down with Jordan's King Hussein. They talked about Arafat and Netanyahu and how to move forward on any of the issues. And what did they think about Israel's Prime Minister? Says a senior U.S. official: "Netanyahu is a complex personality. He makes a very favorable first impression. You see from some of the things being said in the region that this impression doesn't wear well."

On Tuesday Clinton met privately with Netanyahu for 45 minutes and for 30 with Arafat. Then everyone got together in the Oval Office for 45 minutes, a session that American officials described as "quite tense" but also "pivotal." King Hussein expressed disappointment that Netanyahu had not lived up to commitments he had inherited. Netanyahu responded in a very personal way, saying, "We are all fathers of young children. We have hopes for them and for ourselves." And directly to Arafat: "Mr. Chairman, you are a friend and a partner. We have to succeed with you."

Americans who were present thought this was a "psychological point of departure" for Netanyahu, who had always despised Arafat as a terrorist. A senior U.S. official took it as "a recognition that the Israelis can't weaken Arafat because it will weaken themselves." By prearrangement Clinton and King Hussein left Arafat and Netanyahu alone at the lunch table, where they talked for three hours. In such private moments the two talked not only about their disagreements but also about themselves. At one point Netanyahu told Arafat he had never lost one of his debates as a high school student but added he was not in Washington to win a debate with Arafat. Alluding to the pre-election debate in Israel last May, Arafat observed that Netanyahu had recently won a major debate. Netanyahu laughed.

Still, the Israelis remained tough on the issues. During an all-night session at Blair House, across from the White House, the Israeli delegation shocked U.S. negotiators with demands to reopen several agreements that had been tied up in the Oslo accords. "They put all sorts of outrageous proposals on the table," says a U.S. official. "They were not negotiating in good faith." Among the outrageous points was a call for the Palestinians to hand over for trial members of their security forces who fired at Israelis during the rioting. Netanyahu told TIME later that Arafat had insisted that the Palestinian policemen who opened fire were acting against his orders. Then they should be investigated, Netanyahu countered. Says Netanyahu: "Arafat said he would take disciplinary action against those offenders."

After the Blair House confrontation, the summit was on the edge of disaster. On Wednesday morning Arafat phoned Christopher and threatened to leave Washington. "We were nowhere," says an Administration official. "In fact, we were worse off than when they arrived." Christopher summoned senior Israeli and Palestinian ministers and negotiators to his office in Foggy Bottom. "We've just got to create something," he told them. After three hours, they stitched together the agreement that Clinton announced at his news conference that afternoon: a renunciation of violence and an agreement to open-ended negotiations on easing the Israeli presence in Hebron.

As the principals rose from lunch in the White House, Netanyahu began talking quietly with Arafat. Then he put his arm around Arafat and drew him away from the others into a corner where they could speak privately. American negotiator Dennis Ross had proposed earlier that the talks on Hebron begin at Erez, a checkpoint between Israel and the Gaza Strip, on Tuesday. But when he and Arafat rejoined the group, Netanyahu said they had agreed the negotiations should start Sunday, after the Muslim and Jewish sabbaths on Friday and Saturday. In spite of the willingness to go ahead, no one is suggesting the talks will be quick or easy. "I believe the negotiations will be difficult," says a senior U.S. official. "But something is different," because Netanyahu is willing to consider Arafat a partner.

That civil outcome did not appear to lift the spirits of the Palestinian leader. At the White House press conference his expression was glazed, his skin gray and drawn. He canceled a press conference of his own, and at a dinner at the Egyptian embassy, Arafat behaved even more dispiritedly. "He looked sick and incapable of focusing," said a guest at the meal. "His entourage was in the same state; they all seemed unable to absorb the enormity of the situation they found themselves in." While guests at the dinner tried to discuss the coming talks, Arafat and his followers only wanted to discuss money. "What the Americans promised and didn't pay, what was stolen from them by this one and that one. They no longer represent a cause. They've become cheated brokers."

Now the White House and the State Department are wrestling with whether Netanyahu is "all talk and no action" when he says he is committed to the search for a peaceful solution. "Even if you get a deal on Hebron," says Richard Haass, who headed Middle Eastern affairs at the National Security Council during the Bush Administration, "it's still hard to be optimistic about the course of the next months and years. It's really up to Israelis to decide what sort of lives they want to lead."

Palestinian leaders are not cheered by any improved relationship between the two men. Says Hassan Asfour, negotiations coordinator for the Palestinian Authority: "The problem is that Israel has a policy against the agreements." All that is needed, he says, is implementation of the accords already signed. "Without that, we will see ourselves in the same days we have seen before."

Asfour has a point. Netanyahu says, yes, he is committed to the agreements, but in light of the recent violence, new security arrangements will be necessary. When he says security, he naturally means security for Israelis. That translates into less power for the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip and more for Israeli forces. Arafat's Authority cannot afford dilution. Before wrapping himself in the emotions that accompanied the Jerusalem tunnel, he and his cronies were rapidly losing credibility with Palestinians.

Netanyahu says he is only talking about how to implement the agreement, but to Palestinians it looks like renegotiation. Nor does he intend to hurry. "When you are facing pressure," he said after the summit, "you do not make concessions." U.S. officials maintain there has been enough talk. "We worked hard to get a Hebron redeployment date and something on the tunnel," says one. "We got nothing from Netanyahu. We're looking for action now." Despite attempts to calm tempers in Israel, the most likely action may still be in the streets.

--Reported by Lisa Beyer/Jerusalem, Scott MacLeod/Cairo, J.F.O. McAllister and Lewis M. Simons/Washington

With reporting by LISA BEYER/JERUSALEM, SCOTT MACLEOD/CAIRO, J.F.O. MCALLISTER AND LEWIS M. SIMONS/WASHINGTON