Beirut: A Fortress Under Heavy Fire

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Similarly, no one could define precisely what in the future would constitute an official P.L.O. "presence." The Israelis, and indeed the Lebanese Christians, might not be willing to accept a P.L.O. diplomatic mission or information office. But what about Samad, the P.L.O. industrial organization that oversees the growth of Palestinian business enterprises? What about the P.L.O.-run schools and orphanages, and the social welfare organization that has a budget of about $400 million a year? To uproot these groups would cause severe hardship to the remaining Palestinian civilian population, as well as to the Lebanese economy.

Also unsettled was the question of where the P.L.O. guerrillas would go when they leave Lebanon. Although Syrian officials publicly denied it, they were reported to have agreed to a Saudi request that they provide the first haven for the dislodged Palestinians who, when their families are included, are expected to number around 50,000. Whether Syrian President Hafez Assad offered his hospitality spontaneously or was coerced into doing so by the Saudis was not known. But it was understood that as part of the deal, Hafez Assad wanted his forces to retain control over Lebanon's Bekaa Valley.

The ultimate destinations for P.L.O. groups would most probably include Iraq, Egypt, Algeria and Syria. Many Middle East observers expect to see Arafat and his mainstream Al-Fatah organization wind up in Cairo, though the P.L.O. leader is said to favor Tunis, headquarters of the Arab League. Egypt rejects any notion of a transfer of armed P.L.O. units to its soil, but would welcome a Palestinian government-in-exile. This idea in turn draws criticism from the Israelis, who argue that such a gesture of hospitality by Egypt would be contrary to the spirit of the Camp David accords.

While these complex discussions were continuing in Beirut and elsewhere in the Arab world, Israelis were engaged in something of a national debate over the wisdom and morality of the war in Lebanon. A peace demonstration in Tel Aviv two weeks ago drew a crowd that was estimated at 50,000 to 75,000. Bat-Ami Joffe, a social worker and housewife, spoke for many Israelis when she told TIME Correspondent Harry Kelly last week: "This war was not necessary. Israel was never in any real danger. As I weep for almost 300 young lives lost, I say this war should stop. I don't care about unfavorable world opinion, but if it helps to stop the war, then let it continue."

The views of the majority of Israelis were probably better summarized, however, by Margalit Sa'ad, a Jerusalem housewife and fifth-generation Israeli, who declared: "When we do anything, the whole world gets in an uproar. For us this was a holy war, a war for our survival. I don't care what the world thinks. Our lives are on the line, so I don't care." Even Hebrew University Professor Abraham Wasserstein, who had caught his countrymen's attention three months ago by speaking out against Israeli policy on the West Bank because he did not want to remain silent like the "good Germans" of the Nazi era, had little to say last week about the invasion of Lebanon. Said he: "There will be time for criticizing the government after the boys are home."