‘Khalil has a good spot about 500 metres off the point,’ Yossi said, pointing out to a placid Mediterranean. ‘We’ll drift around there for a while and see what we get.’
Giovanni closed his eyes and leaned back against the transom. The sun was warm on his face and bare chest.
‘You’re quieter than usual, Giovanni.’ Yossi’s energy levels were up. Fishing trips were rare and he was ready to enjoy the day.
‘Just soaking up the sun,’ Giovanni said lazily. ‘And thinking about poor Antonio Rosselli.’ Giovanni had taken Yossi into his confidence over the Omega Scroll and the murder of Professor Rosselli had not been lost on either of them. ‘And reflecting. Here we are, a committed Christian, a committed Jew and a committed Muslim, and the only ones in danger are the fish!’
‘If I get my way there’s going to be a lot more of that,’ Yossi replied, cutting the engine and reaching for the rods lying against the starboard gunwale.
‘There’s live bait in the bucket here, so help yourself.’ Yossi had cast his rod before the other two had even baited their hooks, but despite his enthusiasm, the fish appeared to be on strike and the conversation turned to politics.
‘Is there any common ground for peace talks, Ahmed?’ Giovanni asked.
‘There is,’ Ahmed replied, ‘but it needs genuine will on both sides. We are often critical of the Israelis, but we need to look at our own backyard. The PLO makes no secret of the fact that any peace deal is just the first step towards taking over the whole of Palestine. For Arafat, Fatah and the PLO it’s not only the land, it’s a struggle between two civilisations – one Arab, one Zionist. For them there is only one acceptable outcome: Israelis becoming citizens of a single democratic Palestinian State. A state that is an inseparable part of the Arab and Muslim homeland and that will never work.’
‘Would you run for president?’ Yossi asked.
‘Not at the moment, but I’m thinking about it. If Arafat ever goes I will make a move, and I’m quietly building support. What about you? Giovanni tells me you’re going to form a new party.’
Yossi nodded. ‘Neither Labor nor Likud can bring peace to this country because first and foremost we have to convince ordinary Israelis of the need for a Palestinian State. A man without a country is a man without a soul.’ It was a phrase that Yossi was fond of repeating. ‘In exchange, the Palestinian people must recognise the Jewish State and her right to exist.’
‘If it means peace, a lot of Palestinian people will go along with that,’ Ahmed replied. ‘To my mind, the other three key issues are the Jewish settlements, the return of the eight hundred thousand or so Palestinian refugees who lost everything in the wars against Israel, and Jerusalem. What would you do about the settlements?’ Ahmed asked Yossi.
‘That’s one area where we Israelis are going to have to compromise. For years now we’ve had a furious building program on Palestinian land in the West Bank and Gaza. We’ve destroyed a lot of your olive groves and stopped a lot of Palestinians from farming their land.’
‘It’s a big issue, Yossi,’ Ahmed agreed. ‘That’s been our life and our existence since way before Christ or Muhammad, or even Abraham.’
‘It’s a political strategy, Ahmed. Designed to take over what is left of Palestine by stealth, and it’s a big mistake. It breeds untold resentment and despair and it will never work. When a man has nothing left to lose he will readily resort to violence. As painful as it might be for those we’ve allowed to build on Palestinian land, we are going to have to give them incentives and relocate them back into Israel.’
‘And the Palestinians who were exiled in 1948 and the other wars?’ asked Ahmed.
‘That’s an area where both sides will have to compromise. Sometimes we have to deal with reality. There is not much point in insisting that the six hundred thousand Palestinians who were forced out during the 1948 war be allowed to return to homes that no longer exist or have been occupied for half a century in Israel,’ Yossi said. ‘There are people on both sides who think a return to a new State of Palestine, coupled with compensation, is a sensible and workable compromise.’
Ahmed looked thoughtful. ‘And Jerusalem?’ he asked.
‘Jerusalem. Oh Jerusalem,’ Yossi sighed. ‘Someone once said it wasn’t so much a city as an emotion. On our side there are just as many who won’t give an inch but if we’re going to get out of this cycle of killing, we’re both going to have to give a little. Neither side can have it all.’
‘An international city?’
‘Not necessarily, although to a certain extent Jerusalem belongs to the people of faith around the world and certainly any agreement has to maintain the integrity of the holy sites and allow free and unimpeded access to people of all faiths. It’s bigger than just the Old City and I think the solution lies in considering Greater Jerusalem. We agree to demolish this obscene wall and recognise al-Quds in East Jerusalem as the capital of Palestine, and you recognise our capital Yerushalayim in West Jerusalem.’
‘What about the Temple Mount and the Western Wall?’ Ahmed asked.
‘The Old City is not going to be easy,’ Yossi acknowledged. ‘In principle, if I’m elected the Palestinians would get jurisdiction over the Temple Mount, under al-Quds. We would get jurisdiction over the Western Wall under Yerushalayim. What would you do about the militants?’
‘I think the militants would come on board if the negotiations resulted in a genuine Palestinian State,’ Ahmed replied. ‘It won’t be easy, but if I could ever win an election I think I could get agreement to the sort of principles we’re talking here. Does the Old City fall into Israel or Palestine?’
‘For the moment not even you and I could sign that one away, but I would hate to see the chance for peace fall at the final hurdle. Leave the national borders as they are at present and re-visit them when there is a bit of goodwill in the tank. Baited again!’ Yossi stared absentmindedly at his bare hook. ‘It’s theft.’
Giovanni smiled. A stolen prawn. Could these two, he wondered, steal the peace from those who had imprisoned its chances for so long.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Roma
‘ G iovanni. Avanti, Avanti.’
Cardinal Salvatore Bruno, Head of the Secretariat for non-Christians, got up from behind his desk, grabbed Giovanni by the shoulders and kissed him on each cheek. For good measure, he took Giovanni’s hand in both of his.
‘ Benvenuto a Roma! ’
Salvatore was a big man. Well into his sixties, his dark face was lined and his old hazel eyes were kindly and wise. When he reached eighty he would no longer be eligible to vote in any conclave and his wisdom would be sorely missed by a Church that desperately needed those who were not driven by power. Salvatore Bruno had come to Roma reluctantly, persuaded by those outside of the Vatican, Bishop O’Hara among them, that the Holy Church needed to reach out to the other faiths. Faiths that were held with equal conviction by equally decent folk. Bishop O’Hara and Salvatore had also had several conversations about the role the brilliant young Giovanni might play. Both of the older men could sense his destiny.
‘I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you here. S’accomodi. S’accomodi.’
‘Thank you, Eminence. Come stai? You are well, I hope?’
‘I can’t complain,’ he said, his old eyes twinkling as he patted his ample stomach. ‘Now, have you given any thought as to how you might tackle this issue of the other faiths?’
‘Yes, Eminence, but I will probably need some guidance. I’ve been out of the mainstream for a long time, and to tell you the truth, I am a little surprised at the project. I thought the Church’s attitude was, well…’
‘More rigid?’ Cardinal Bruno chuckled as he finished Giovanni’s sentence for him. ‘I shouldn’t worry too much about that. The Holy Father has always recognised the importance of the other faiths, although there’s been a fierce rearguard action from the usual suspects…’ Salvatore paused as his housekeeper of thirty-five years brought in the tea. ‘Thank you, Sister Maria, I’ll pour. I need to keep my hand in,’ he said with another chuckle and he waited until she withdrew.