Man in The Middle

Facing the facts in the Middle East is often a game of saving face. So how to get around this conundrum: Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir insists that he will not sit at a negotiating table that includes a Palestinian representative from East Jerusalem; Faisal al-Husseini, a leading Palestinian activist and Jerusalemite, insists that any Palestinian delegation must include a Jerusalem resident. The face-saving route around the impasse may lie in a house that al-Husseini has just completed in Ayn Siniya, a West Bank village 15 miles north of Jerusalem. Shamir, who has already rejected al- Husseini as a potential delegate, could backtrack and assert that al- Husseini is now a West Banker. And al-Husseini could take his seat, staunch in his conviction that he still speaks for Jerusalemites.

Under such an arrangement, neither side would get quite what it wants but both sides would at least get what they need. And for al-Husseini, 51, the need for a dialogue between Palestinians and Israelis is a foregone conclusion. More than any other Palestinian living on Israeli-occupied soil, he has demonstrated an inclination to sit down with his enemy and seek common ground. "Faisal is willing to talk to us, to argue with us, to disagree and to listen," says Etta Prince-Gibson, an Israeli peace activist. "That is a proof that Palestinians and Israelis can negotiate peace."

In a region where personal suffering is often used as a yardstick of political legitimacy, al-Husseini's credentials are impressive. His father, Abdul Qader al-Husseini, became a martyr to Palestinians in 1948 during a battle between Palestinian and Jewish fighters in the mountain village of Kastel west of Jerusalem. The younger al-Husseini has endured continuous hardship since graduating from a Syrian military college in 1967. Arrested five times by Israeli officials, he has spent 42 months in prison and an additional five years under house arrest. Since 1988, when Israeli officials shut down his Arab Studies Society, a research organization, al-Husseini has lived off the royalties he earns from his writings on human-rights issues.

When his phone rings these days, the message is likely to contain a threat, sometimes from Israeli fanatics, sometimes from Palestinian hard-liners who reject peace talks. "You are talking to a dead man," al-Husseini told Secretary of State James Baker last week. "Israeli extremists or Arab radicals will get to me. I want something in my hand so the peace process can continue."

Yet al-Husseini presses on. He has earned Palestinians' trust by living modestly and observing Muslim traditions. At his home, he meets constantly with visitors who count on him to resolve financial, political and family problems. A word from al-Husseini can even take the heat off Palestinians accused of collaborating with the Israelis. Admirers and foes alike find al- Husseini decent and sincere. That is little solace. Al-Husseini likens his role as go-between to that of a mountain climber: "I need to think only about not falling."