May 09, 1988
Dialogue in A
Demilitarized Zone
ABC's Nightline
plays diplomat and journalist in Israel
BY RICHARD ZOGLIN
For the Middle
East, it was a rare moment of restrained confrontation. There, on the stage of
the Jerusalem Theater, sat Palestinian Professor Saeb Erakat and two colleagues
rationally -- if grimly -- debating Arab-Israeli hatreds with four Israeli
politicians. In fact, Erakat indicated that he was speaking his mind more
freely than he normally felt he could in Israel. Why? "I think that
here," he said, "I'm in ABC territory."
So he was. In
Jerusalem last week ABC created a sort of demilitarized zone as Ted Koppel's
late-night news program, Nightline, broadcast five nights of on-the-scene
shows. The topics were the recent violence in the occupied West Bank and Gaza
Strip, as well as other issues fueling the tragic conflict between Israelis and
Palestinians. American TV once again was playing diplomat as well as
journalist. And if the results were unlikely to be as dramatic as Egyptian President
Anwar Sadat's 1977 trip to Jerusalem (spurred by a few well-timed questions
from CBS Anchorman Walter Cronkite), the venture brought U.S. audiences one of
their most comprehensive and compelling looks yet at the strife in Israel.
Israeli TV, on the other hand, did not carry the shows.
The Nightline
formats ranged from a dry but informative 75-minute survey of Israel's history
(presented in two versions: Jewish and Palestinian) to live interviews with
such figures as Foreign Minister Shimon Peres and, by satellite from Tunis,
Palestine Liberation Organization Spokesman Bassam Abu Sharif. The centerpiece
was Tuesday night's three-hour-plus "town meeting." Four members of
the Israeli Knesset and three Palestinian representatives faced off against one
another, symbolically divided by a wooden wall. In the audience were 600
Israelis and 150 Palestinians, who hooted and applauded partisan comments and
occasionally asked pointed questions.
When Eliahu
Ben-Elissar, a member of the conservative Likud Party, charged that
Palestinians in the occupied territories are "sending out children and
women to the streets to cope with Israeli soldiers," cries of outrage
erupted in the audience. When he claimed further that the Jewish concern for
women and children is something that "is not known in, maybe, your
circles," the comment was hotly denounced by the Palestinians as an
"outright racist statement." In the midst of this tinderbox, Koppel
handled himself with poise and scrupulous fairness, trying his best (not always
successfully) to cut short rambling speeches and keeping emotions under control
by the sheer force of his calming intellect.
Bringing the unique
series of shows to fruition was a prodigious task. "Our naivete
helped," says Nightline Senior Producer Betsy West. "Old hands might
have said, 'Don't even try.' " Plans were begun last fall, but the
assassination three weeks ago of P.L.O. Leader Khalil al-Wazir increased
tensions and made it more difficult to line up guests. Among those who refused
to appear: P.L.O. Chairman Yasser Arafat and Jordan's King Hussein.
The town meeting
was especially delicate to organize. Palestinian audience members were bused to
the theater for the 6:30 a.m. telecast only after special approval came from
Defense Minister Yitzhak Rabin. A number of potential Palestinian panelists
refused to participate. Speaking for the Palestinians, they claimed, is a role
that belongs only to the P.L.O. The three representatives who did appear
insisted that the wall be set up and avoided even looking at the Israelis for
most of the show.
To guard against
disruptions, security was tight; an evacuation plan had been prepared in which
the show, if necessary, would have continued in a room behind the stage without
an audience. But the onlookers remained relatively calm. That alone was an
accomplishment. "Nothing was said that was new," noted Koppel.
"But the very fact that [Israelis and Palestinians] sat down, even though
there was a wooden wall between them, was a step in the right direction."
And, for the sovereign territory of ABC, a television coup.
© Time.com