Arafat under pressure as Bush mulls sanctions

Yasser Arafat's isolation has deepened, with Washington approving the presence of Israeli troops around his compound and claiming to have proof that the Palestinian Authority was behind a recent weapons-smuggling operation.

President George Bush and his foreign policy advisers met in the White House yesterday to consider sanctions against the Palestinian leadership.

Although they are unlikely to cut links, they were said to be debating whether to close the Palestinian Authority offices in Washington and place Mr Arafat's personal security force on the US State Department's list of terrorist groups. Mr Bush said: "Ordering up weapons that were intercepted on a boat headed for that part of the world is not part of fighting terror, that's enhancing terror. And obviously we're very disappointed in him."

The Bush administration has swung sharply behind Israel in recent weeks, a process accelerated by continued Palestinian attacks in Israel, including a suicide bombing in Tel Aviv yesterday that injured at least 14 people.

The Palestinian leader, who is facing his worst crisis for decades, saw his problems deepen four weeks ago when Israeli commandos intercepted the Karine-A, a cargo vessel, in the Red Sea. It was loaded with 50 tons of mortar shells, anti-tank missiles and other weapons. The United States now says it has proof that the Palestinian Authority was behind the shipment, which Israel says was supplied by Iran and destined for Gaza. The US has passed this evidence to Egypt, Jordan and Saudi Arabia.

Since 29 November, Mr Arafat has not been allowed out of Ramallah. His officials deny he is imprisoned, but say he is "under siege". The phrase is meant to recall the stand-off two decades ago between Mr Arafat and Ariel Sharon, who is now Israel's Prime Minister. Then, as the Defence Minister, he laid siege to the Palestinian leader in Beirut. For more than two months Israeli aircraft hunted Mr Arafat. Four times, they bombed or fired rockets at buildings he had left less than an hour earlier.

Eight days ago, when a Palestinian gunman killed six people at a 12-year-old Israeli girl's bat mitzvah party, the Israeli forces moved close to Mr Arafat's compound. Snipers have been stationed in a tall building next door. He can sometimes see them from his windows, and yet he seems almost to be enjoying himself. A few weeks ago, the 72-year-old Mr Arafat seemed weary and ill. But incarceration has ended his incessant globe-trotting, and now he seems rested.

The scene in his compound does not seem to belong to a war, even though the scars of conflict are visible. The ruins of the Voice of Palestine's radio transmitter ­ bought down in another recent Israeli assault ­ lie strewn across a hill a few hundred yards away. Yet the place is strangely up-beat. Officials and journalists come and go. He invites some to have dinner, pressing them to eat hard-boiled eggs, and honey mixed with pine nuts and sesame seeds.

Asked about the Karine-A affair, he whips out a map of Gaza, and demands to know how the weapons could have been smuggled past the Israeli gunboats patrolling the strip. He has begun to admit the possibility that he will not end the Israeli occupation in his lifetime.

When The Independent visited this week, the nearest Israeli tanks and armoured vehicles were about 100 yards away, but they move closer at night, manoeuvring menacingly within earshot of the rooms in which Mr Arafat sleeps. About two dozen youngsters were throwing rocks at them, some using sling-shots. The soldiers replied intermittently with rubber bullets, tear gas and percussion grenades. Mr Arafat is said to catch a whiff of the gas sometimes.

What will Mr Sharon do with his ensnared enemy? Exiling him would strengthen his waning popularity. Killing him would detonate an explosion of violence, both in the occupied territories and in neighbouring Arab states. Stories have begun to appear in the Israeli media suggesting that Mr Arafat is considering resignation. His aides have dismissed them as "psychological warfare". Certainly, he has never shown any sign of quitting. He has survived internal plots, an armed rebellion inside his Fatah organisation, being thrown out of Jordan by King Hussein, and eviction from Beirut in 1982. He has nothing else in his life beyond politics. His wife, Suha ­ who is from Ramallah ­ spends her time in Paris.

"Without Palestinian politics he has no life," wrote the Ha'aretz journalist Danny Rubinstein, one of his biographers. "His personal effects are a few faded military uniforms and a colourful collection of pens in his pockets." His status on the street, although boosted by the "siege", is patchy. Some PLO officials regard him as a liability and resent his failure to offer leadership. "He has to go," said a source. "He has completely failed to put our case, and is living in the past. Almost anyone would be better."

He could gain the initiative by calling an election. He would still be the favourite. A Western source said: "It would be the right move to make; with one bound he would be free." But he is no democrat, and seems unlikely to do that.

The Palestinian leader does have some influence over the militants, but his control is limited. He is being asked to repress an assortment of guerrilla organisations, operating within a population that has seen their economy wrecked by a blockade, their orchards ripped up and their homes flattened. These groups have concluded that Mr Sharon has no interest in peace and is reinforcing Israel's presence in the occupied territories.

While we were in his compound, several hundred Fatah activists arrived outside. "We want a martyrdom operation", they chanted ­ for which, read suicide bombing. It was not long before they got their way.