A Gaza conflict threatens to expand

Three shivering Palestinians in olive uniforms, Kalashnikovs draped over their shoulders, face a near impossible job: calming the Middle East conflict - or at least their corner of it.

Clusters of these security forces have appeared along dusty roadways and across from orange groves around the Palestinian town of Beit Hanoun in recent days to prevent militants from firing rockets towards Sderot, Israel, just 2.5 miles away. Their employer, the Palestinian Authority (PA), is concerned such firings could trigger an all-out Israeli invasion of the Gaza Strip.

A reconquest of Gaza, taken together with last year's reoccupation in the West Bank, would mean the fall of the last remnant of Yasser Arafat's Palestinian Authority. It would mark the final failure of the Oslo peace process, placing all major Palestinian population centers under Israeli control. Israeli Defense Minister Shaul Mofaz declared tersely last week that an invasion is being weighed. But Israel is also believed to be wary of the casualties the army would incur.

It has been quiet now for two weeks, but no one on either side is confident that this will last. "The Palestinian Authority cannot stop this," says Beit Hanoun resident Abdul-Qader Suleiman. "All it takes is one person firing between some trees."

Hours after the rockets crashed down on Sderot two weeks ago, causing no injuries, a US-made Israeli Apache helicopter circled and directed its machine gun fire toward targets in Beit Hanoun.

That sent families scrambling into the corners of their homes. "The kids were crying and shrieking the whole night," recalls Raed al-Athmana, a Beit Hanoun resident. "I was afraid for my children, that the helicopter would shoot at the house."

During the barrage, Israeli army commandos also struck, blowing up the four bridges that connect Beit Hanoun with the rest of the Gaza Strip in explosions that shattered windows and rattled houses. Eight civilians who lived near a bridge were wounded by one of the explosions, Palestinian officials said.

Hundreds of Sderot residents watched the action from the highest hill in their town, and some later said they felt relieved. "That helicopter did a great job," says teenager Elad Amar. "It really quieted the area down."

The two towns, separated by a border fence and a couple of miles of citrus groves and sand, offer a microcosm of the dread and hostility on both sides as the region opens a new chapter with the reelection of Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon.

Mr. Sharon is acclaimed in Sderot as a strong leader who knows how to subdue Arabs - and end the rocket fire. "At night, when I'm lying in bed, I sometimes think about the rockets," says Elad. "That maybe one will fall on my house. It bothers me a bit. I hope the prime minister does something about it."

But in Beit Hanoun, residents believe that Sharon intends to bring even more death and destruction their way. "If the Israelis chose Sharon, it means they don't want peace," said Mr. Suleiman. "They know he is bloodthirsty."

It is the primitive Qassam rocket, whose range is roughly the distance between the two towns, that has intertwined the futures of the two communities. Developed by Hamas, the Islamic Resistance Movement, the wildly inaccurate Qassam has thus far injured no one in Sderot. But its use has intensified over the past two months, and it has landed near schools.

"People are not in a panic, but they have become paranoid," says grocer Sasson Shara. "If they hear a sonic boom, they jump. People are speaking quietly about moving, but if there are deaths, they will speak it about it openly."

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