At crossing, Palestinians wait, worry

BEIT HANOUN, Gaza Strip -- Despite promises from Hamas leaders that their victory over rival Fatah forces has ushered in an era of security for the Gaza Strip, residents expressed more concern than hope yesterday about the future of their impoverished coastal territory.

Nowhere was there greater uncertainty than at the Erez border crossing, where an estimated 400 Palestinians huddled for a third straight day inside a no man's land separating Israel and northern Gaza. Many said they feared revenge attacks after last week's violent bloodletting in which Hamas Islamists routed loyalists of Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas's Fatah faction.

Israel, wary of allowing the Gazans to transit its territory to the Fatah-controlled West Bank, refused to allow them in and insisted that their lives were not in danger.

Those stuck at the crossing have been waiting in a squalid concrete tunnel topped with aluminum siding without bathrooms or food.

Some had stories about Hamas fighters killing their relatives in violence that convulsed Gaza during the last few months. Others said that with the new Hamas regime in control -- and Fatah's former generals routed -- they have no chance of ever working again in Gaza.

"We are sure that they'll kill us," said Abu Eyad, a former policeman associated with Fatah who sat in the tunnel with his wife and four children. "We prefer life here as refugees than death back there."

Life away from the border crossing, however, revealed a more complex scene of how Gazans have adjusted to the new political situation in which the Islamic Hamas party, denounced by the United States and Israeli as a terrorist organization, now controls the destiny of 1.5 million Palestinians.

Shops and markets in Gaza City, located about 5 miles from the border crossing, were open and doing brisk business yesterday.

Groups of men gathered at coffee shops to chat. Volunteers directed traffic at busy intersections. Mothers walked with their children to relatives' homes on streets that only days earlier had been bloodstained and littered with spent AK-47 shells.

Some of those shopping yesterday expressed relief that the latest wave of violence was over, but said that it was too early to tell what the future holds.

"We hope for the best now," said Maha Rizq, who on Monday returned to her job as a social worker. "We are interested in safety and security. Fatah didn't bring it, so we have to trust that Hamas can do better."

Dozens of leading Fatah officials had already left Gaza. They escaped in the midst of the fighting with the help of the Israelis and now are living with relatives or in expensive hotels in the West Bank city of Ramallah, planning political comebacks.

Mid-ranking Fatah officials, meanwhile, appear to have negotiated new relationships in Gaza with the new Hamas governing council.

Life looks grimmest for those stuck at the Erez crossing.

Yesterday afternoon, with the sun beating overhead, sweaty and crying women and children crowded around slits in the concrete walls to feel gusts of fresh air and relieve the fetid, urine-soaked stench of their temporary home.

This was after Israeli tanks rolled through the Palestinian side of the border earlier in the day because, officers said, they needed to maintain order.

Hamas leaders, meanwhile, issued assurances that they would safeguard all Palestinians, regardless of party affiliation.

"Our interest is in law and order. We want to put order back to the streets -- and our militias aren't out to kill for killing's sake," said Sami Abu Zuhri, a Hamas spokesman in Gaza City.