It would be simplistic to attribute the demise of the Oslo peace process to only one cause, but the centrality of the Second Intifada to this catastrophic outcome can hardly be disputed. This Palestinian uprising began 20 years ago last month, and it is worth reflecting on how the promise of the 1993 Oslo Accords to be the beginning of the end of the protracted conflict between the Israelis and Palestinians was to turn so sour in a matter of seven years. Twenty years on, both societies are still licking their wounds. Without underestimating the physical harm to both Israelis and Palestinians from five years of bloodshed, the psychological damage is just as enduring. These events caused almost irreparable damage to the peace movements on both sides, and reshaped the Israeli and Palestinian political systems. It can be argued that the seeds of destruction were sown in the Oslo Accords themselves and the manner in which the subsequent negotiations were conducted. It was also the asymmetry in the power balance between Israel and the Palestinians, PLO leader Yasser Arafat’s loss of control of large segments of Palestinian society, and the fragility of the Israeli political system that together contributed to the shattering of the peace process. Lack of transparency about the final goals, as well as the prolonged nature of the negotiations, created space for those who opposed it to derail a peace based on dividing the land between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea into a Jewish State — Israel — and an independent Palestinian state, while the peace movements were not entirely sure what they were supporting. Had the Second Intifada never happened, it is safe to say that the master-inciter against the peace process, Benjamin Netanyahu, would never have been returned to power, let alone remained in power for so long, Hamas would probably not have won the 2006 parliamentary elections in Gaza, and the separation barrier would never have been built. Ariel Sharon’s visit to the Al-Aqsa compound on Sept. 28, 2000, was a deliberate provocation that triggered a seismic explosion that led to the deaths of 4,228 Palestinians and 1,024 Israelis, but the uprising had been in the making for some time. Moreover, it invoked two diametrically opposed narratives that confirmed the worst stereotyped images that Israelis and Palestinians had of each other, undermining the fragile trust built during the early Oslo years and leaving it in tatters. It would be simplistic to attribute the demise of the Oslo peace process to only one cause, but the centrality of the Second Intifada to this catastrophic outcome can hardly be disputed. Yossi Mekelberg For Israelis, the eruption of a second Palestinian uprising was a manifestation of their deepest fears in the form of exploding buses, restaurants and bars, and other indiscriminate atrocities carried out by suicide bombers. This spread terror among Israeli civilians, evoking the most negative image of the Palestinians fostered by decades of conflict. The vast majority of Palestinians were not involved in the uprising, but were on the receiving end of Israel’s disproportionate, indiscriminate and brutal response to the suicide bombings, in which more than half of Palestinian casualties were civilians or children. This only exacerbated the negative image of Israel as a ruthless occupier and not a partner for peace. Israel was not only confronting the suicide bombers and those who sent them, but was engaged in a widespread operation of collective punishment; of mass arrests and holding people in custody without trial for years, of house demolitions, and the constant imposition of closures and lockdowns that together with an extensive network of checkpoints made movement under Israeli occupation almost impossible and liable to have severe consequences. That breakdown of trust has never been restored and will linger for considerably longer. After all, the Second Intifada didn’t happen in a vacuum, but soon after the Camp David peace summit between Israel’s Prime Minister Ehud Barak and Palestinian President Yasser Arafat, orchestrated by US President Bill Clinton, failed spectacularly. All the evidence available to us today confirms that Arafat was not behind the outbreak of the Second Intifada, but also that he did nothing to stop it and was instead carried away with his own rhetoric in supporting what would become destructive to the peace process and to his own people. It was also Barak who, in shifting all the blame on Arafat for the collapse of Camp David and for the PLO leader’s rejection of what Barak described as the most generous and far-reaching proposals tabled by any Israeli leader, imprinted in the minds of Israelis the simplistic image of a courageous Israeli leader ready to take risks for peace facing a rejectionist Palestinian counterpart who would rather support terrorism. This played into the hands of people such as Sharon, who would by March of the following year become prime minister, and Netanyahu, who rode back to power on the myth of having no Palestinian peace partner. Ironically, it was the Second Intifada that was behind Sharon’s decision to disengage from the Gaza Strip and evacuate the Jewish settlements, including four in the West Bank. However, this later contributed to another favorite Israeli misperception of the Palestinians, as a result of Hamas taking over Gaza soon after the Israeli evacuation, and of Israel’s final withdrawal from Lebanon a number of years earlier — that when Israeli is “generous” and evacuates land (conveniently forgetting that it is occupied land in the first place) its neighbors retaliate with violence against the “vulnerable” Jewish state. Eventually, the combination of the Second Intifada, the rise of Hamas, the divisions between it and Fatah and the dominance of the right in Israel, led to the marginalization of the peace discourse in both societies, while the horrific violence and the uncompromising positions led to an unholy blend of a sense of victimhood; a blame culture; extreme distrust; seeing the worse in each other; rigidity in approach; and populist authoritarian leaderships. In other words, all the ingredients that have made peace between the two peoples no more than a remote possibility. Yossi Mekelberg is professor of international relations at Regent’s University London, where he is head of the International Relations and Social Sciences Program. He is also an associate fellow of the MENA Program at Chatham House. He is a regular contributor to the international written and electronic media. Twitter: @YMekelberg Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not necessarily reflect Arab News" point-of-view