WHEN DIPLOMACY BECOMES OBSCENE

By Charles Krauthammer

The body parts had not all been collected from the victims of the latest massacre of innocents in Jerusalem when the words of condolence came filtering in from the outside world. They were not just words of condolence, however. They were mixed with admonition. From Turtle Bay to Downing Street, the general tenor was, We are all terribly sorry, but you Israelis must continue peace talks. Indeed, the more quickly you hasten back to the negotiating table the better.

Kofi Annan, Secretary-General of the U.N.: "I appeal to all involved to avoid the use of bombs and violence and really get back to the negotiating table." (Avoid? As in: "I appeal to Mr. Cunanan to avoid murdering people?")

British Foreign Secretary Robin Cook: "I am horrified at this devastating bomb attack, and deeply regret the loss of life," etc., etc. "This tragic incident reinforces the urgency of a return to dialogue and negotiation."

And this helpful piece of advice from Brussels: "The European Union presidency calls on the government and people of Israel not to be provoked by those who want to torpedo peace."

One gets the distinct impression that the perfunctory words of sympathy are but the necessary diplomatic entree to get to the real punch line: telling Israelis that no matter how many of their women and children are lying in pieces on the street, they must continue to negotiate with the very people who harbor and abet these murderers. And honor them: suicide bombers are hailed as shaheed, holy martyrs. Indeed, a poll taken of West Bank Palestinians showed that they approved, by 49% to 38%, of the previous suicide bombing, the March massacre in a Tel Aviv cafe.

This alacrity in giving gratuitous advice is, first, obscene. People living fat and safe thousands of miles away have no standing to tell the Israelis that they must, regardless, continue a process that relentlessly increases the power and the reach of people trying to blow them up.

But apart from the morality, there is the practical political effect. The message it sends the Palestinians is clear: no matter how great the outrage they perpetrate, the world will demand no price. In fact, pressure will be exerted on Israel--pressure to return to the table and continue its concessions--even before it has buried its dead.

Imagine, on the other hand, what would happen if the President of the U.S., who after this bombing called for "a deepened determination by both Palestinians and Israelis to pursue peace," had sent the contrary message: "The United States extends its deepest condolences to the people of Israel and is firmly convinced that the peace process cannot continue under such circumstances."

Imagine the electric effect this would have on the Middle East--and the penetrating effect it would have on the Palestinians, moderate and radical alike. Such a stance would tell the Palestinian leadership that it finally had to choose. It could no longer wink at, make tacit alliances with, periodically unleash and generally use as blackmail the terrorists in their midst. It would finally have to choose between violence and peace.

That was the choice presumably made by the Palestinians in September 1993 with the handshake on the White House lawn. The basic deal of the Oslo accords was that Israel would give the Palestinians wide-ranging concessions--P.L.O. recognition, P.L.O. control of all Palestinian cities, the removal of Israeli occupation (today 98% of West Bank and Gaza Palestinians live under Arafat's rule), the first free elections in Palestinian history, international aid--in return for one thing: a solemn pledge to end violence.

Yet the violence continues. Even more outrageous at the political level than the bombing in Jerusalem (which Arafat, for all his winking and phony arrests, was at least compelled to denounce pro forma) is the routine daily violence that Arafat had encouraged for weeks in Hebron. With nary a fig leaf, Arafat was conducting his own mini-intifadeh in Hebron in order to pressure Israel on Jerusalem. And the world--especially the U.S.--stood by with not a word of criticism.

It is not surprising that Arafat, whose use of violence dates to 1965, should keep playing this card. What is surprising is that the world--and particularly the U.S.--has let him get away with it.

"For Arafat," notes Robert Satloff of the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, "street violence, demonstrations, green lights to Hamas terror operations are politics by other means. What the Palestinians repudiated at Oslo--violence--has now become legitimate once again."

This is the real story behind the death of the Oslo peace process: the fundamental (the single!) pledge of the Palestinians--nonviolence--is mocked, and the world proceeds in emperor's-new-clothes fashion as if nothing has happened.

The Hebron riots? Silence. The Jerusalem bombing? A hand on Israel's shoulder--and a stern finger pointing to the negotiating table.

If it weren't so tragic, it would be farce.