4.12.2005

"O testamento do Papa é amarga confissão"

ROMA. O jornalista e ensaísta italiano Giancarlo Zizola é considerado um dos maiores vaticanistas de seu país. Ele escreveu diversos livros, entre eles "O Sucessor" e "L’Altro Wojtyla" (O Outro Wojtyla). Zizola enxerga além do horizonte formado pela multidão nos funerais do Papa João Paulo II.

Para ele, tanta gente nas ruas do Vaticano é um símbolo forte da necessidade dos fiéis terem mais proximidade das decisões internas da Igreja.

Não por acaso, ele prevê que a opinião pública terá influência direta no conclave. Nesta entrevista ao GLOBO, Zizola destaca a prioridade do próximo Papa: realizar reformas.


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Como o senhor analisa a situação atual da Igreja diante deste conclave que iniciará na segunda-feira?

GIANCARLO ZIZOLA: - Os cardeais têm a necessidade de se apropriar novamente da palavra. Interpreto este conclave como um pequeno concílio ecumênico, inclusive pelo aspecto da sua composição com representantes de diversas nações. É a única vez em que eles exercitam a soberania da Igreja. Os cardeais obedecem à própria consciência e podem dar espaço e liberdade às próprias opiniões. Na sede vacante eles têm a responsabilidade indelegável de eleger o Papa e não devem ser condicionados pelo mundo externo. Mas, segundo a Constituição Apostólica de João Paulo II, este deve ser um processo de toda a Igreja, não só dos cardeais. Por isso é importante a opinião pública. Pela primeira vez, a opinião pública do mundo inteiro participa do processo de decisão, discutindo e questionando sobre temas do futuro da Igreja. Nunca um evento midiático alcançou esta dimensão. A opinião pública entra no conclave. Toda esta gente se apropriou da figura do Papa antes de devolvê-la ao monopólio do Templo. O povo é sujeito do conclave e exprime o tipo de Papa que ele deseja. Até o século VII o Papa era eleito pelo clero e pelo povo. Depois as eleições se transformaram em guerras entre os partidos, até que o Papa Estevão IV (816-817) decidiu excluir os delegados e começou o escrutínio secreto com voto de maioria. Ele mudou o sistema por razões de ordem pública e não por motivos eclesiásticos. A fumaça branca (que anuncia que um novo Papa foi eleito) é o único resíduo que simboliza o direito do povo de eleger o Papa. Portanto, a fumaça informa o povo como vão as coisas dentro do palácio apostólico.

João Paulo II estabeleceu que a eleição de um Papa não deve ser só dos cardeais e sim um processo de toda a Igreja. Mas o pontificado dele não tocou na colegialidade, mencionada pelo Concílio Vaticano II, na qual os bispos reivindicam mais voz na Igreja...

ZIZOLA: Nas primeiras declarações de alguns cardeais, eles expressaram um desejo de reforma. A primeira reforma é aquela que João Paulo II já havia anunciado. Ele declarou que a reforma, exercício da soberania do Pontífice, é necessária porque a carga é enorme e não pode ser suportada por um homem sozinho. Isso significa que a prioridade é recuperar o Concílio Vaticano II no aspecto da colegialidade no governo da Igreja católica universal para reequilibrar os dogmas do primado e da infalibilidade do Papa, estabelecidos pelo Concílio Vaticano I . Na parte do testamento de João Paulo II escrita em 2000, ele disse que o seu sucessor deve realizar o Concílio Vaticano II. Ele teve quase 27 anos para fazer estas reformas e não as realizou, criando um vazio. Isto significa que ele não conseguiu atuar, provavelmente porque as reformas foram inibidas pela estrutura centralizadora da Cúria romana (o governo e os “ministérios”da Igreja). O testamento do Papa é amarga confissão.

Por que ele preferiu fazer tantas viagens e não tocar no governo central da Cúria?

ZIZOLA: Ele optou por um ministério viajante e por uma dinâmica de visitar as Igrejas locais da Terra na ilusão de que a conseqüência seria uma onda gigante de retorno, como uma tsunami na rigidez do governo central. Acredito que daqui a muitos anos ele terá razão, mas o resultado imediato foi contrário ao que ele esperava. Ele acabou reforçando o poder central da Igreja.

A maioria dos cardeais eleitores é de países europeus, mas a América Latina concentra a maioria dos fiéis. O que pensa a respeito?

ZIZOLA: A análise do conclave anterior não pode valer para o atual. Um dos critérios obsoletos é o nacional, porque a Igreja internacionalizou-se. Atualmente a maioria dos católicos não está na Europa. O colégio dos cardeais também se internacionalizou e reflete de maneira assimétrica os movimentos sociológicos da população católica no mundo. Por exemplo, no atual colégio cardinalício, 11 cardeais são asiáticos e 20 são italianos. Considere que, na Ásia, os católicos representam cerca de 1,5 % da população e na Itália os católicos são cerca de 80% da população. Se estas proporções relativas ao número de cardeais de acordo com a população fossem respeitadas, a Itália deveria ter em torno de 50 cardeais. O critério nacionalista não valia já na segunda metade do século passado quando aos poucos foi diminuindo a quota de cardeais italianos. Até o conclave de Paulo VI, os italianos controlavam um terço do colégio. Outro dado é que a maioria dos católicos está no sul do mundo. A América Latina é o primeiro continente com a maioria dos católicos do mundo. Quanto ao índice de crescimento da população católica, a África está em primeiro lugar com um aumento de 120% por ano. Na Europa este índice está próximo a zero.

Se o próximo Papa for italiano, ele será conservador?

ZIZOLA: É necessário explicar que se ele for italiano não será necessariamente conservador. Poderá ser um progressista. Assim como não significa que um estrangeiro seja progressista. Existem diferentes tendências ideológicas entre os cardeais de um mesmo país. Pode ser que o próximo Papa não seja italiano e nem europeu. Neste caso, corresponderia a uma evolução internacional dentro da Igreja ligada à atual configuração sociológica. O catolicismo é uma religião universal com a maioria dos fiéis fora da Europa, sendo que a maior parte deles fica na América Latina.

O próximo Papa será um homem com experiência no governo da Igreja?

ZIZOLA: A Igreja precisa de reformas. João Paulo II não realizou reformas dentro do governo da Igreja, deixando este problema suspenso ou descuidado. O próximo Papa precisará saber como realizá-las.

Há a possibilidade de o próximo Papa desviar a atenção para temas externos ao governo da Igreja como fez João Paulo II com suas viagens?

ZIZOLA: Não faço previsões e sim análises. A composição do colégio dos cardeais é dispersa, não há mais blocos ideológicos homogêneos, são várias tendências, mas é fundamental saber qual Papa para qual Igreja e qual Igreja para qual sociedade. Não podemos esquecer que a missão da Igreja é para a sociedade e não para si mesma. O problema é saber quais são as prioridades da Igreja, segundo os cardeais.

11.13.2004

Viúva de Arafat ausente de Ramallah

Suha, a viúva de Yasser Arafat, foi ontem uma espécie de presente- -ausente das cerimónias fúnebres do líder palestiniano. Ladeada pela filha de ambos (Zahwa, de nove anos), Suha participou nas exéquias religiosas que se efectuaram no Cairo, mas a partir de uma sala contígua totalmente reservada para as mulheres, de acordo as regras islâmicas.

Quando Yasser Arafat foi transportado para Ramallah, na Cisjordânia, onde foi sepultado, Suha optou por permanecer no Cairo, não assistindo ao funeral do marido.



Uma opção estranha, mas que poderá ser explicada tanto por razões de segurança como pelo mau relacionamento que Suha Arafat mantinha com a maioria dos dirigentes palestinianos.

Como ficou bem patente na troca de acusações que se verificou durante o período em que o líder palestiniano esteve internado em França, envolvendo o controlo das contas secretas da OLP que se encontravam em nome de Yasser Arafat.

Oficialmente, no entanto, Suha Arafat - que era 34 anos mais nova do que o marido - ficou no Cairo para poder receber as condolências dos convidados estrangeiros. Entre os quais se encontrava o príncipe herdeiro da Arábia Saudita, Abdallah ben Abdel Aziz, num sinal de que Riade poderá agora reaproximar-se das autoridades palestinianas depois de mais de uma década de distanciamento, motivado pelo apoio que Arafat concedeu à invasão iraquiana do Koweit.

Afastada de Gaza e da Cisjordânia há quase três anos, altura em que Israel confinou Arafat ao perímetro da Muqata, Suha tem vivido, desde então, em Paris, cidade para onde poderá voltar agora, ainda que algumas fontes admitam também a hipótese de a viúva do líder palestiniano poder optar pelo regresso à Tunísia, onde o casal viveu até 1994.

Em Paris ou em Tunis, o certo é que Suha Arafat dificilmente voltará a viver nos territórios ocupados. Pelo menos nos próximos anos, a avaliar pelas informações que ontem foram veiculadas pela imprensa italiana e israelita.

De acordo com o Corriere della Sera, La Repubblica, Maariv e Jerusalem Post, Suha e Zahwa vão receber uma pensão vitalícia das autoridades palestinianas, compromisso assumido por Mahmoud Abbas (Abu Mazen), o novo presidente da OLP.

Nos termos deste acordo, que terá sido mediado pelo conselheiro financeiro de Yasser Arafat, Muhamad Rashid, Suha e a sua filha Zawha vão receber uma pensão mensal vitalícia de 27 mil euros, ficando ainda com uma herança estimada entre os 15 e os 17 milhões de euros.

Em troca, a viúva de Yasser Arafat terá revelado às autoridades palestinianas os números das contas que o seu marido controlava em diversos bancos de Londres, Zurique e até Telavive, permitindo-lhes aceder às contas secretas da OLP.

11.12.2004


Palestinian police officers cover Yasser Arafat's grave with dirt after the coffin was placed inside during the leader's chaotic funeral in Ramallah, West Bank, Friday, Nov. 12, 2004. (AP Photo/St. Petersburg Times, John Pendygraft)

#46234 BULLETINS APNEWSALERT BULLETIN APA0485 NEWS LIVE 11/12 8:15 .69
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RAMALLAH, West Bank -- (AP) -- Security officials say Yasser Arafat has been buried.

AP-ES-11-12-04 0816EST

11.11.2004

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Yasser Arafat's body arrives in Cairo for Friday funeral

AP-ES-11-11-04 1554EST

Après l'hommage de la France, la dépouille mortelle de Yasser Arafat est partie pour Le Caire

La mort de Yasser Arafat avait été annoncée en milieu de nuit, jeudi, à Ramallah (Cisjordanie) par le secrétaire de la présidence palestinienne, Tayeb Abdelrahim. Peu après, le porte-parole du service de santé des armées françaises confirmait le décès par un bref communiqué lu devant l'hôpital Percy de Clamart, en banlieue parisienne, où le leader palestinien était soigné.



L'avion officiel français transportant la dépouille mortelle du président palestinien, Yasser Arafat, a quitté jeudi à 17 h 35 la base aérienne militaire de Villacoublay, à l'ouest de Paris, à destination du Caire. Auparavant, une cérémonie officielle en hommage à Yasser Arafat s'est tenue jeudi en présence du premier ministre, Jean-Pierre Raffarin, sur la base militaire de Villacoublay. M. Raffarin a présidé, sous un ciel gris et froid, cet hommage d'une vingtaine de minutes rendu sur le tarmac de l'aéroport. A ses côtés, outre Souha Arafat, plusieurs de ses proches, le ministre des affaires étrangères français, Michel Barnier, son homologue palestinien, Nabil Chaath, le président de l'Assemblée nationale, Jean-Louis Debré, des représentants de la société civile comme le recteur de la Mosquée de Paris, Dalil Boubakeur, ou l'évêque catholique Jacques Gaillot.

Le cercueil, recouvert du drapeau quadricolore palestinien, a été porté à pas lents par huit soldats de l'armée de terre, au son de la Marche funèbre de Chopin, alors que les gardes républicains en grande tenue rendaient les honneurs.

Il est passé devant les personnalités rassemblées non loin de l'Airbus A319 de l'armée de l'air. La base militaire avait été décorée des drapeaux français et palestinien descendus à mi-mât.

La fanfare de la garde républicaine a joué l'hymne palestinien puis la Marseillaise. Aucune déclaration n'a été faite pendant la brève cérémonie.

Le cercueil a ensuite été placé sur une rampe inclinée roulante permettant l'accès à la soute de l'appareil. Souha Arafat a alors rejoint, accompagnée de MM. Raffarin et Barnier, un salon d'honneur dans l'aéroport, où elle est restée une vingtaine de minutes. Puis, vers 17 h 15, elle a été accompagnée en bus vers l'avion par le commandant de la base, le colonel Vincent Tesnières.

De nombreux Palestiniens s'étaient rassemblés à l'extérieur de l'aéroport. Egalement présents à la cérémonie, la déléguée générale de la Palestine en France, Leïla Chahid - qui n'a pas embarqué dans l'Airbus - ou l'ex-ministre dess affaires étrangères Roland Dumas.

Le Falcon 900 transportant le ministre des affaires étrangères français a quitté en premier la base, suivi de l'Airbus transportant le corps du président de l'Autorité palestinienne.

En fin de matinée, le président Jacques Chirac s'est incliné à l'hôpital Percy sur la dépouille mortelle. "Je suis venu m'incliner devant le président Yasser Arafat et lui rendre un dernier hommage", a-t-il déclaré, adressant "au peuple palestinien et à ses représentants un message d'amitié et de solidarité". Il s'est recueilli durant vingt-cinq minutes devant la dépouille mortelle de Yasser Arafat et a présenté ses condoléances en embrassant Souha Arafat ainsi que Leïla Chahid. Avant de quitter l'hôpital, il a ajouté que la France "continuera à agir inlassablement pour la paix et la sécurité au Proche-Orient, (...) dans le respect des droits des peuples palestinien et israélien".

MORT À 3 H 30

La mort de Yasser Arafat avait été annoncée en milieu de nuit à Ramallah (Cisjordanie) par le secrétaire de la présidence palestinienne, Tayeb Abdelrahim. Peu après, le porte-parole du service de santé des armées françaises confirmait le décès par un bref communiqué lu devant l'hôpital.

"Monsieur Yasser Arafat, président de l'Autorité palestinienne, est décédé à l'hôpital d'instruction des armées Percy, à Clamart, le 11 novembre 2004 à 3 h 30", a déclaré le médecin-général Christian Estripeau. Ces déclarations n'ont pas fait état des causes exactes de la mort du dirigeant historique des Palestiniens. M. Arafat avait été hospitalisé le 29 octobre "pour une importante altération de l'état général et des anomalies sanguines", avaient simplement indiqué les communiqués officiels.

Ses quatorze jours d'hospitalisation ont été marqués par plusieurs annonces de son décès, immédiatement démenties par les autorités françaises et par les dirigeants palestiniens. Plusieurs des principaux dirigeants de l'Autorité palestinienne, dont le premier ministre, Ahmed Qoreï, s'étaient rendus cette semaine à son chevet.

Jeudi, en fin de matinée, plusieurs centaines de sympathisants de la cause palestinienne, certains la tête couverte du keffieh noir et blanc rendu célèbre par Arafat, s'étaient rassemblés devant l'hôpital Percy, entonnant notamment des chants nationalistes palestiniens.

Les obsèques de M. Arafat se dérouleront vendredi en présence de nombreux dirigeants du monde entier, au Caire.

Yasser Arafat sera ensuite inhumé dans son quartier général de la Mouqata'a, à Ramallah, où il vivait reclus depuis trois ans, pratiquement assiégé par l'armée israélienne.

Le président du Parlement palestinien, Raouhi Fatouh, assurera la présidence de l'Autorité palestinienne pendant soixante jours. Le numéro deux de la direction palestinienne, Mahmoud Abbas, a été nommé chef de l'Organisation de libération de la Palestine (OLP) et le chef du bureau politique de l'OLP, Farouk Qaddoumi, a été désigné chef du Fatah, l'organisation créée au début des années 1960 par Yasser Arafat.

VŒUX DE PAIX

Les dirigeants du monde entier ont émis le souhait de voir les relations entre Palestiniens et Israéliens évoluer vers la paix. Le président américain, George W. Bush, a espéré "que l'avenir apportera la paix et la concrétisation" des aspirations des Palestiniens "à une Palestine indépendante, démocratique qui soit en paix avec ses voisins".

Le premier ministre israélien, Ariel Sharon, a estimé que la mort de son ennemi personnel "peut marquer un tournant historique pour le Proche-Orient". Il a espéré "que la nouvelle direction palestinienne qui va lui succéder comprendra que des progrès dans les relations avec Israël et les solutions des problèmes passent avant tout par une guerre contre le terrorisme".

Dès l'annonce du décès, les drapeaux palestiniens ont été mis en berne, et un deuil de quarante jours a été décrété dans les territoires palestiniens, qu'Israël a fait immédiatement boucler par ses forces de sécurité.


LE MONDE avec AFP

Départ de l'hélicoptère transportant la dépouille de Yasser Arafat

L'hélicoptère emportant la dépouille mortelle du président palestinien Yasser Arafat a quitté jeudi après-midi l'hôpital militaire Percy de Clamart (Hauts-de-Seine) pour la base aérienne de Villacoublay, à l'ouest de Paris, a constaté l'AFP. A 16H25, un hélicoptère Super Puma de l'Armée de Terre transportant le cercueil recouvert du drapeau palestinien a décollé de l'enceinte de l'hôpital militaire, où Yasser Arafat avait été admis le 29 octobre, à destination de Villacoublay. Souha Arafat, son épouse, a pris place dans l'appareil.

Les derniers honneurs seront rendus sur la base militaire de Villacoublay par un détachement de la Garde Républicaine en présence du Premier ministre Jean-Pierre Raffarin et de membres du gouvernement français. A l'issue de la cérémonie, le corps de l'ancien dirigeant palestinien doit partir en fin d'après-midi pour Le Caire à bord d'un avion militaire français. Après les funérailles officielles au Caire, la dépouille sera transférée à bord d'un hélicoptère militaire égyptien à Ramallah où le président de l'Autorité palestinienne sera inhumé dans son quartier général de la Mouqataa, où il a vécu reclus et assiégé par l'armée israélienne pendant près de trois ans.

Ramallah, today

Arafat Was the Symbol of His People's Longing for Identity

JUDITH MILLER The New York Times

Yasir Arafat, who died this morning in Paris, was the wily and enigmatic father of Palestinian nationalism who for almost 40 years symbolized his people's longing for a distinct political identity and independent state. He was 75.

No other individual so embodied the Palestinians' plight: their dispersal, their statelessness, their hunger for a return to a homeland lost to Israel. Mr. Arafat was once seen as a romantic hero and praised as a statesman, but his luster and reputation faded over time. A brilliant navigator of political currents in opposition, once in power he proved more tactician than strategist, and a leader who rejected crucial opportunities to achieve his declared goal.

At the end of his life, Mr. Arafat governed Palestinians from an almost three-year confinement by Israel to his Ramallah headquarters. While many Palestinians continued to revere him, others came to see him as undemocratic and his administration as corrupt, as they faced growing poverty, lawlessness and despair over prospects for statehood.

A co-winner of the Nobel Prize for Peace in 1994 for his agreement to work toward peaceful coexistence with Israel, Mr. Arafat began his long political career with high-profile acts of anti-Israel terrorism.

In the 1960's, he pioneered what became known as "television terrorism" - air piracy and innovative forms of mayhem staged for maximum propaganda value. Among the more spectacular deeds he ordered was the massacre of Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics. In 1986, a group linked to Mr. Arafat but apparently acting independently seized the Achille Lauro cruise ship and threw overboard an elderly American Jew in a wheelchair.

In 2000, after rejecting a land-for-peace deal from Israel that he considered insufficient, Mr. Arafat presided over the Palestinians as they waged a mix of guerrilla warfare and terror against Israeli troops and civilians that has lasted more than four years.

Indeed, shifting between peace talks and acts of violence was the defining feature of his political life. In his emotional appeal for a Palestinian state at the United Nations General Assembly in 1974, he wore a holster while waving an olive branch. After his pledge of peace with Israel in 1993, Palestinians associated with him carried out suicide bombings in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. He officially condemned such violence but called for "martyrs by the millions" to rise for the Palestinian cause.

Mr. Arafat assumed many poses. But the image that endures - and the one he clearly relished - was that of the Arab fighter, the grizzled, scruffy-bearded guerrilla in olive-green military fatigues and his trademark checkered head scarf, carefully folded in the elongated diamond shape of what was once Palestine.

He seemed to thrive when under siege. Surrounded in the spring of 2002 by Israeli tanks in two rooms of his compound in Ramallah, he cried out, "Oh God, grant me a martyr's death."

Until 1988, he repeatedly rejected recognition of Israel, insisting on armed struggle and terror campaigns. He opted for diplomacy only after his embrace of President Saddam Hussein of Iraq during the Persian Gulf war in 1991 - and the collapse of the Soviet Union - left his movement politically disgraced and financially bankrupt, with neither power nor leverage.

In September 1993, he achieved world acclaim by signing a limited peace treaty with Israel, a declaration of principles that provided for mutual recognition and outlined a transition to Palestinian autonomy in parts of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, territories that Israel had controlled since its decisive victory in the 1967 Arab-Israeli war. The culmination of secret negotiations in Oslo, the agreement was blessed by President Bill Clinton and sealed with a stunning handshake between Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin of Israel and Mr. Arafat on the White House lawn.

But in 2000, he walked away from a proffered settlement based on the Oslo accords proposed by Prime Minister Ehud Barak - the biggest compromises Israel had ever offered.

The Israeli proposal appeared to meet most of his earlier demands, but Mr. Arafat held out for more. Mr. Clinton and Mr. Barak charged that Mr. Arafat had failed to respond with proposals of his own, effectively torpedoing the American-brokered talks. The Palestinians had a different interpretation, saying that despite being pushed into negotiations before they were ready, they had nonetheless responded with counterproposals but that the Barak offers kept shifting and ultimately fell short of their needs.

After the talks collapsed in 2000, Ariel Sharon, then in the opposition in Israel, visited the Jerusalem plaza outside Al Aksa Mosque in late September. Palestinians erupted in violent protest, igniting what came to be called the second intifada. That campaign has killed more than 900 Israelis and almost 3,000 Palestinians, and plunged the fragile Palestinian Authority into armed conflict.

Mr. Arafat died without achieving any of the essential goals he had espoused at various stages of his career: the destruction of Israel, the peace with the Jewish state he backed after 1988, or the creation of an independent Palestinian state with Jerusalem as its capital. Moreover, the political concessions that produced the 1993 Oslo accords - accords for which he, Mr. Rabin and Shimon Peres of Israel shared the Nobel Peace Prize - deepened both the admiration and hatred of him. Few Arabs or Israelis were neutral about Mr. Arafat or his Oslo deal with Israel.

Mr. Arafat leaves an ambiguous legacy. He succeeded in creating not only a coherent national movement, led by the Palestine Liberation Organization, but also the very consciousness that made it possible. A master of public relations, he made the world aware of Palestine as a distinct entity. And he helped persuade Palestinians, who now number five million to six million, to think of themselves as a people with a right to sovereignty. "He put the Palestinian cause on the map and mobilized behind his leadership the broadest cross section imaginable of Palestinians," said Khalil E. Jahshan, an Arab-American political activist who knew him well for more than a decade.

His detractors, however, grew more numerous over time. Mr. Arafat, those critics contended, betrayed the Palestinian and Arab cause to maintain his own power. They called him a traitor for having accepted what Hisham Sharabi, the Palestinian scholar and former supporter, called an Arab Bantustan, an entity that was neither politically coherent nor economically viable. Critics noted that while "President Arafat" toured the globe being welcomed by world leaders, Israel doubled the size of its settlements on what was envisioned as soil for a future Palestinian state.

Other detractors argued that he had waited too long to accept political reality. His reluctance to recognize Israel's existence and renounce the violence that claimed hundreds of Israeli and other lives prolonged the pain of the Palestinians and left a new generation stateless, ill treated under Israeli occupation and by most Arab governments. Palestinians in many Arab countries, including Syria and Lebanon, were restricted to camps and denied citizenship, while their host governments spoke in heartfelt tones of the Palestinian cause.

Both admirers and enemies agreed that like King Hussein of Jordan, his late longtime rival and eventual partner in peace with Israel, Mr. Arafat was a survivor. Having experienced perhaps 40 attempts on his life by Israelis and Arabs, he was strengthened as a revolutionary leader by single-mindedness in pursuit of his dream and uncanny energy. Yet after Oslo, his enemies said he continued living mainly because Israel permitted him to do so.

Until 1991, when he wed Suha Tawil, his Palestinian secretary, and had a daughter, Zahwa, he was married only to his cause. He slept and ate little, took no vacations and neither drank nor smoked. People viewed his role in various ways - terrorist, statesman, dreamer, pragmatist, his people's warrior, his people's peacemaker. Even admirers described him as a chameleon. Virtually all the biographies about him express bewilderment about his actions and character, about what an Israeli author, Danny Rubinstein, in his book "The Mystery of Arafat," called "this strange phenomenon."

Many Palestinians compared him to David Ben-Gurion, Israel's founder and first leader, seeing Mr. Arafat as an Arab pioneer who struggled to lead his people back to their promised land. Many Israelis, by contrast, regarded him as an archterrorist, an opportunist who endorsed peace merely as a tactic to destroy Israel - "a beast on two legs," as the late Israeli leader Menachem Begin once called him.

After the Oslo accords, Mr. Arafat became as controversial among Arabs, especially Palestinians: revered by many as the father of their country, reviled by others as an autocrat, a divisive and sometimes indecisive buffoon, a traitor. Even many Arab supporters of his 1993 agreements with Israel eventually came to loathe him for what they saw as his political duplicity, his administration's endemic corruption and his dictatorial tendencies.

An exasperating and mercurial man, Mr. Arafat, with his ever-present silver-plated .357 Magnum, was one of the most recognizable of world figures. He was known by many names: Abu Ammar, his nom de guerre; the "chairman," after he became leader of the P.L.O. in 1969; and the "old man," the name he once said he preferred because in Arabic it conjures an image of a beloved uncle. At the end of his life, he referred to himself as "general," often speaking of himself in the third person.

Over the years, "old man" became apt. His once-taut stomach gave way with age to paunch despite his frequent walks and the treadmill behind his office. What remained of his hair, almost always hidden by his trademark head scarf, turned gray. The face, with its three-day stubble, became visibly lined, his eyes weary.

The Young Guerrilla

The mystery surrounding Mr. Arafat starts early, as accounts of his origins vary. The man who became "Mr. Palestine" was probably not born there. He has claimed to have been born on Aug. 4, 1929, in Jerusalem, or alternatively in Gaza. What seems certain is that this son of a lower-middle-class merchant spent much of his childhood being shuttled among relatives in Cairo, Gaza and Jerusalem after his mother, who came from a prominent Jerusalem family, died when he was 4.

In 1949, he began studying engineering at Cairo University, where he was prominent in Palestinian student affairs. When Israel, Britain and France invaded Egypt in 1956, Mr. Arafat, as an Egyptian military reservist, is said to have taken a course in which he learned how to use mines and explosives, skills that proved useful. That same year, he also began wearing his trademark kaffiyeh, which impressed both Arabs and Westerners when he first traveled to Europe in a Palestinian student delegation.

After graduating, he worked as an engineer in Egypt and moved first to Saudi Arabia, then to Kuwait in 1957, where he plunged into clandestine Palestinian nationalist activities.

In October 1959, he and four other Palestinians founded Al Fatah, "the Conquest," which later became the core of the Palestine Liberation Organization.

From the beginning, Mr. Arafat was intent on building a revolutionary organization with three hallmarks: unity, independence and relevance. He knew that all three were essential to prevent the Arab nations, torn by bitter rivalries, from exploiting the Palestinian cause for their own purposes. He spent brief stints in prison in Egypt, Lebanon and Syria.

In May 1964, Egypt created the P.L.O. under Arab League auspices, but only as a front for the Arab nations. Ahmed Shukairy, an Egyptian bureaucrat who headed the P.L.O. and had never held a gun, resented Mr. Arafat and Al Fatah, denouncing them as "enemies" of the liberation movement.

The 1967 Arab-Israeli war, which brought humiliating defeat to the Arabs' conventional armies, gave Mr. Arafat's group a chance to become heroes to Arabs desperately in need of some. But it still took Mr. Arafat two years to wrest control of the P.L.O. from the lower-key Palestinians to whom the Arab states had entrusted it.

His genius for attracting media attention became evident in the spring of 1968, when he made his first appearance on the cover of Time magazine.

That March, the Israeli Army attacked Karameh, the Jordanian town east of the Jordan River where Al Fatah had set up headquarters. Mr. Arafat insisted that his commandos not retreat. After the Israelis withdrew, he staged a victory celebration around several destroyed Israeli tanks that was attended by representatives from many Arab countries and, of course, the news media.

Calling Karameh "the first victory of the Arabs against the state of Israel," Mr. Arafat, with his kaffiyeh and Kalashnikov, became an instant sensation and a leading spokesman for the Palestinian cause. Money and volunteers poured in. Guerrilla training camps sprang up in Lebanon, Jordan and Iraq, and Al Fatah became paramount among Palestinian guerrilla groups.

At the same time, wrote Abu Iyad, a late top aide to Mr. Arafat, the Palestinian National Council, the P.L.O.'s parliamentary body, adopted Al Fatah's goal: "Creating a democratic society in Palestine where Muslims, Christians and Jews would live together in complete equality."

Though such a state would have meant the destruction of Israel, Mr. Arafat and other Palestinians kept openly advocating it until the early 1980's.

The Evicted Guest

The guerrillas' power grew steadily in Jordan, to which 380,000 Palestinians had fled after Israel occupied the West Bank in 1967, joining others who had arrived in 1948 when Israel was founded. By 1970, thousands of guerrillas were there, many of them adherents of Al Fatah.

Spurred on by Palestinian radicals, Mr. Arafat committed what was to be the first of several blunders: he countenanced an attempt to wrest power from King Hussein, whose grandfather, a religious and tribal leader from Saudi Arabia, had been placed in charge of the country when Britain recognized its independence in 1923.

Palestinian guerrillas began interfering with highway traffic, controlling Palestinian refugee camps, clashing with the Jordanian Army and systematically defying the Jordanian government. In September 1970 - later known to Palestinians as Black September - King Hussein sent troops and armor into Amman, his capital, to suppress the P.L.O. After days of shelling refugee camps where some 60,000 Palestinians lived, the army drove the would-be usurpers out of Jordan into Lebanon.

Conservative estimates put Palestinian losses at 2,000. Mr. Arafat, who made his way unharmed to Cairo, later claimed that Jordan's Army had killed 25,000. By the following summer, the Jordanian Army had nullified the P.L.O. as a military power in the country. Sapped and shaken, the guerrilla movement drifted into Lebanon.

In Lebanon's atmosphere of banking secrecy, duty-free trade and political freedom, Al Fatah expanded its political and military institutions as never before. Working among some 400,000 Palestinians in the country, the P.L.O. built its own police force, clinics and hospitals, a research center and a network of business interests that made it a "virtual state within a state."

Moreover, it set about developing a formidable military arsenal.

By 1974, the P.L.O. became, in effect, the sole representative of the Palestinian people, and that November, Mr. Arafat became the first Palestinian leader to plead his people's cause before the General Assembly.

Mr. Arafat and his P.L.O. seemed at their peak, but as he had done in Jordan, he soon overplayed his hand. In 1975, tensions between Palestinians and Lebanese helped set off the Lebanese civil war. Despite some antagonism, he maintained his headquarters in Beirut for several years, and during this period armed Palestinians based in southern Lebanon harassed northern Israel.

Sensing an opportunity to rid itself of Mr. Arafat and his movement, Israel invaded Lebanon and laid siege to Beirut in 1982. General Sharon, who later complained that he should have killed Mr. Arafat in Lebanon when he had the chance, dealt the Palestinians heavy blows before an agreement sponsored by Washington led to the withdrawal of thousands of P.L.O. guerrillas in August 1982. The guerrillas scattered to eight Arab cities, with their leaders fleeing to Tunis, the new Palestinian headquarters.

Mr. Arafat ventured back to Lebanon in 1983. But rebel Palestinian guerrillas backed by Syria challenged and besieged him and his commandos in northern Lebanon. After a six-week siege in December, the anti-Arafat Palestinians drove him out.

Thus Mr. Arafat and the Palestine Liberation Organization lost a base of military operations near Israel, as well as a sense of unity. And in moving to Tunis, a political backwater, he also jeopardized his organization's relevance in any peace talks.

The Pragmatic Survivor

Mr. Arafat still managed to stage a limited revival. Traveling incessantly in Arab countries, he refilled his organization's depleted coffers and commanded world attention, especially when he escaped death in 1985 in an Israeli attack on his compound.

But weakened and increasingly on the margins of Arab politics, he and the P.L.O. leaders gradually became convinced that political survival demanded a shift in both propaganda and tactical courses.

The man who had vowed in 1969 to ignite "armed revolution in all parts of our Palestinian territory" in order "to make of it a war of liberation" against Israel, realized that while he had exhorted and overseen many armed actions against Israel, the terrorism had never amounted to a war of liberation. He and his advisers became increasingly convinced that Israel could not be vanquished by force.

Moreover, the cold war was ending; the Soviet Union, a crucial patron, was broke and uninterested in his cause. The only Arab nation that had succeeded in reclaiming land lost to Israel was Egypt, whose president, Anwar el-Sadat, had been denounced by Mr. Arafat as an American "stooge." Increasingly, however, the United States seemed like the only power that could press Israel to make political concessions.

The outbreak of the intifada, the Palestinian uprising that erupted without the P.L.O.'s approval or encouragement in the Israeli-occupied territories in late 1987, also pushed Mr. Arafat toward greater pragmatism, if not moderation.

In November 1988, after considerable American prodding, the P.L.O. accepted the United Nations resolution that called for recognition of Israel and a renunciation of terrorism.

Yet this achievement was soon eclipsed by yet another miscalculation: Mr. Arafat's support for President Hussein in the Persian Gulf war enraged his remaining wealthy Arab patrons. The Persian Gulf states and other backers cut off at least $100 million in annual support, and the P.L.O. became even more isolated.

Mr. Arafat, however, did not see it that way, and later claimed that he had not sided with the Iraqi dictator. In an interview in Tunis soon after the gulf war, he insisted that the P.L.O. was at its "peak" and that he was "more popular than ever before" with the "Arab masses, the Muslim nation, the third world."

But with his coffers bare and Palestinians increasingly calling for his ouster, he had little choice but to grab the lifeline of peace talks that Israel had thrown him. Though Prime Minister Rabin was initially reluctant to engage the P.L.O. in secret peace talks, his fear of the growing power of Hamas, the militant Palestinian Islamic movement that had taken hold under Israeli occupation in the West Bank and Gaza, was stronger than his disdain for Mr. Arafat and his bedraggled guerrillas.

Mr. Arafat endorsed the Arab-Israeli peace talks that began in Madrid in October 1991, with Palestinians (but not the P.L.O.) taking part. The Arab participants sought a settlement under which Israel would yield land it occupied. Concurrently, in early 1992, secret contacts between representatives of the P.L.O. and Israel got under way in Tel Aviv. The talks continued, at Oslo and other sites, and by early September 1993, the essence of the proposed pact was generally known: mutual recognition and the creation of self-rule areas in Gaza and Jericho, with that autonomy envisioned as the beginning of a larger transfer of authority to the Palestinians in the occupied lands.

The Oslo peace accords of 1993 were the first between Israeli officials and the P.L.O., and many Palestinians and Israelis argue that with the organization and even his own Fatah so divided about the accords, only Mr. Arafat could have secured their approval.

But many diplomats and scholars say he could have secured a better deal for the Palestinians much earlier had he not placed priority on his organization's survival and unity rather than on establishing autonomy and a state on any sliver of his people's original land that he could secure.

In 1978, Mr. Arafat joined most Arab nations in rejecting Mr. Sadat's peace with Israel under the Camp David accords. But unlike the others, Jordan and the P.L.O. had something to gain by taking part. The accords provided for an end to Israeli occupation of vast sections of the West Bank and Gaza and for "autonomy" for the Palestinians there, the possibility of eventually establishing the kind of national autonomy the P.L.O. had been seeking since 1974.

William B. Quandt, a scholar and former American official who was intimately involved in Israeli-Arab diplomacy for years, said even the Camp David accords would probably have provided a better deal than the one Mr. Arafat ultimately accepted in 1993. "In 1975 there were only 10,000 Israelis on the West Bank," he said. Today, there are 225,000 in the West Bank and 200,000 more Jews in East Jerusalem.

Some of Mr. Arafat's most euphoric and frustrating moments occurred after the 1993 Oslo accords. Among the highlights was his triumphal return to Gaza in July 1994. Welcomed by tens of thousands of cheering Palestinians and a city bedecked with the red, green, black and white colors of the Palestinian flag, he established the first Palestinian government.

The assassination of Mr. Rabin by a Jewish hard-liner in November 1995 was a personal and political blow to Mr. Arafat, according to several associates, including Edward G. Abington, the American consul general in Jerusalem until mid-1997. Mr. Abington said Mr. Arafat "broke down and sobbed over the phone" after learning that Mr. Rabin had been assassinated.

But in January 1996, the Palestinian leader presided over one of the freest elections ever held among Arabs. Some 85 percent of the Palestinian electorate chose from a bewildering array of 700 candidates for an 88-member Palestinian Council.

With 88 percent of the vote for him as president, Mr. Arafat became the undisputed leader of his people - no longer (or so it seemed) dismissible by Israelis as a terrorist who derived his authority from the gun, or by Islamic nationalists who had assailed him as the hand-picked collaborator of Israel and the United States. "This is a new era," he said after the 1996 elections. "This is the foundation of our Palestinian state."

The Criticized Symbol

Such optimism proved short-lived. The Palestinian Authority was soon locked in increasingly bitter struggles with Hamas, which insisted on the continuing need to stage terrorist attacks not only against Israeli soldiers and settlers in their midst, but also on civilians inside Israel.

Opposition to Mr. Arafat and his Oslo accords also increased among secular Palestinians. Some of the most rabid critics accused him of having betrayed the Palestinian cause.

Palestinians grew ever more critical of his autocratic style and what they called his inept stewardship, the brutal, arrogant methods of his 14 security services, his crackdown on dissenters and the corruption among the "outsiders" who had accompanied him from Tunis.

In Israel, opposition was also building to what Mr. Arafat had once called the "peace of the brave." After Mr. Rabin's assassination, a series of lethal suicide attacks by Hamas helped elect the hawkish government of Benjamin Netanyahu in May 1996.

Palestinian hopes for economic development were also repeatedly dashed, partly by punitive Israeli actions that denied Palestinians jobs in Israel and work at home. In 1996, the border with Gaza was sealed by Israel for 3 days of every 10. By 1997, three years after Mr. Arafat's triumphal return to Gaza, the Palestinian economy was stagnant and per-capita annual income in Gaza had declined by $100, to $1,050. Refugee camps remained mired in squalor.

Mr. Arafat's penchant for trying - once more - to satisfy all constituencies further undermined confidence in his leadership. Successive Palestinian crackdowns on Hamas and other militants invariably gave way to deals, pledges of forgiveness and rounds of kisses.

Still, Mr. Arafat presided over an autonomous Palestinian sector that was, relative to most Arab states, tolerant and politically free-wheeling. And his popularity prevailed relative to challengers.

Ever the careful balancer, he insisted on making decisions alone and in private. Indeed, he found himself increasingly isolated in his final years, with almost all his former close aides having been killed over the years by Israeli or Arab assassins.

Plagued by a neurological illness that doctors said stemmed from an airplane crash in the Libyan desert that nearly killed him in 1992, Mr. Arafat slowed down. No longer able to work his legendary 18-hour days, he was forced to delegate some power, if not real authority, as he grew ever more frail. His trembling lower lip and shaking hands increased Palestinian concerns about the future. He had not appointed or groomed an obvious successor.

Some Americans and Israelis involved in the Oslo peace negotiations continued to view him as the only Palestinian leader willing and able to make the compromises needed to end the bitter conflict. They disagreed with the growing number of Israelis who suspected that he secretly sought Israel's destruction while negotiating for peace.

This upbeat assessment, however, was challenged in Israeli and American eyes by the collapse of the Oslo talks at Camp David in July 2000 and a last ditch round of negotiations that continued despite growing violence until January 2001. The talks with Mr. Barak's Labor government failed despite the intervention of President Clinton, who offered Mr. Arafat an 11th-hour peace package to secure a final settlement before the end of his term in office and before Mr. Barak faced elections in February 2001.

The package would have given the Palestinians all of Gaza and more than 94 percent of the West Bank, much closer to Mr. Arafat's goal of securing the return of all the territories lost in 1967 than he had ever come before. The Israelis also agreed to give Palestinians full sovereignty over Arab neighborhoods in Jerusalem and air rights over Israel. But Mr. Arafat, who had already blessed the uprising and was facing growing Palestinian criticism of his stewardship, still insisted, among other things, on the right of return of refugees into Israel. Henry Siegman, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, called Mr. Arafat's rejection of the American-brokered peace package a "disastrous mistake.'' But, he added, "based on my 14 years of dealings with Arafat, I reject the notion that he was bent on Israel's destruction." Rather, he said, Mr. Arafat's decision reflected his political weakness, a result partly of Israel's acceleration of settlement expansion and Mr. Barak's lack of interest in peace with the Palestinians until his own government began collapsing.

But Dennis B. Ross, who spent 12 years trying to negotiate an Arab-Israeli peace settlement in Republican and Democratic administrations, ultimately concluded that while Mr. Arafat might have been prepared to die with Israel in existence, he was not prepared to have history regard him as the man who betrayed the vision of a single Palestinian state. "In the end, he was not prepared to give up Palestinian claims and declare that the conflict is over," Mr. Ross said in an interview.

Even worse, Mr. Ross wrote in his book documenting the collapse of the American-brokered peace effort, "he continued to promote hostility toward Israel.'' To avoid potential opposition, he remained a "decision-avoider, not a decision-maker," Mr. Ross wrote, "all tactics and no strategy."

In the February 2001 elections, Mr. Barak lost to Mr. Sharon, the candidate of the conservative Likud Party and a figure hated by Palestinians for his invasion of Lebanon, his settlements policy and his September 2000 visit to the Jerusalem plaza outside Al Aksa Mosque, an act intended to demonstrate Israeli sovereignty over what Jews call the Temple Mount and Muslims call the Noble Sanctuary.

After Mr. Sharon's election, the newly elected Bush administration refused to help broker a serious peace effort similar to that of Oslo or the Madrid conference staged by the first President Bush. As a result, Palestinians argue, Mr. Arafat and others who ostensibly favored a diplomatic option lacked the political leverage they required.

Mr. Arafat's critics, by contrast, maintain that it was he who set off the violent Palestinian protests in September 2000, using the weapons and terrorist infrastructure he had secretly built alongside Israel while he negotiated for peace.

After almost 60 suicide bombings in 17 months, Mr. Sharon surrounded Mr. Arafat's compound in Ramallah in late March 2001 and later confined him there, leaving the Palestinian leader to rail against Jewish "extremists" as his cellphone battery died and his entourage ran short of food.

Pressure by Saudi Arabia and other Arab allies prompted the Bush administration to re-engage in an American-sponsored peace effort in the summer of 2001. Although Mr. Bush had been tentatively scheduled to meet Mr. Arafat on the periphery of the United Nations General Assembly in the fall of 2001, the session was canceled after the attacks of Sept. 11. Mr. Bush never met with Mr. Arafat.

The White House's hostility to the Palestinian leader hardened over time as American intelligence officials informed the White House that he was lying about his opposition to violence against Israelis. Officials said Mr. Bush came increasingly to equate Palestinian attacks on Israeli civilians with militant Islamic attacks on Americans.

Mr. Ross, the longtime negotiator, said a low point came in January 2002, when Israelis interdicted in the Red Sea the Karine A, a ship carrying Iranian arms for use against Israelis. In a letter to Mr. Bush, Mr. Arafat disavowed any connection to the ship, though it turned out that the shipment had been arranged by a crucial Arafat aide, and the pilot was a Palestinian navy officer. Mr. Bush angrily dismissed the letter, insisting that Mr. Arafat must have known about the weapons. Though Mr. Arafat finally acknowledged responsibility for the arms, the diplomatic damage was done.

Increasingly, the United States looked on with indifference as Prime Minister Sharon took unilateral steps to protect Israelis that infuriated the Palestinians, including building walls to cut Israel off from suicide bombers and ordinary Palestinians, dividing up the West Bank into supposedly temporary zones of security and more permanent zones of settlement.

Efforts by the Bush administration to force Mr. Arafat to share power with other Palestinian leaders also failed. Because he steadfastly refused to designate a successor, a generation of lieutenants has been jockeying for power.

The International Crisis Group, an independent Brussels-based group that studies global issues, partly blamed the Palestinian leadership. "Recent power struggles, armed clashes, and demonstrations do not pit Palestinians against Israelis so much as Palestinians against each other,'' the report stated.

Under Mr. Arafat, local actors like mayors, kinship networks and armed militias competed for authority in the vacuum. One result, the report said, was growing chaos.

Nor did Mr. Arafat deliver prosperity. According to United Nations figures, 50 percent of the 2.2 million Palestinians on the West Bank live below the poverty line, compared with 22 percent in 2001; the figure is now 68 percent in teeming Gaza, with its 1.3 million residents.

Despite deteriorating political and economic conditions, many Palestinians blamed Israel and not their leader for their plight. For many, until the end, Mr. Arafat remained the symbol of Palestinian aspiration to a state, the only man who could have sold the painful compromises for peace to his people had he chosen to do so.

Arafat Mystery Lingers: Whereabouts of His Hidden Fortune

STEVEN ERLANGER The New York Times

JERUSALEM - As Yasir Arafat lay dying in Paris, the battle over his legacy involved an unstated but widely acknowledged concern: He personally controlled several billion dollars, and no one else knew where it all was.

The extent and whereabouts of this fortune, which relied on different aides and advisers as co-signers, had been a hidden part of the disputes at his bedside, Israeli and Palestinian officials said, giving the final days of this revolutionary figure the elements of a Victorian novel.

Mr. Arafat, who died early Thursday morning, kept knowledge of the accounts compartmentalized, and only he knew all the details, well-informed Israeli officials said, in assertions confirmed reluctantly by Palestinian officials who did not want to harm Mr. Arafat's legacy.

Much about the financing of the Palestinian movement in the last four decades has been shrouded in secrecy, and its details are hard to pin down. But Palestinians said Mr. Arafat used the money to finance the Palestinian movement and administration, to pay salaries, bestow gifts, ensure loyalty, establish embassies, buy arms and pay groups ranging from charities to young fighters like Al Aksa Martyrs Brigades.

Mr. Arafat, abstemious, spent very little money on himself, living like a soldier with a narrow bed and a few uniforms in his closet. But the pattern of his revolutionary days in exile - financing the Palestine Liberation Organization through secret contributions, the black market and extortion, and being ready to run at a moment's notice - persisted most obviously in his refusal to trust others and his desire to keep large amounts of cash available in case of emergency.

There has been much speculation about how much money went to support the lavish living of his wife, Suha, in Paris, with reports from her enemies in the Palestinian Authority of subsidies of some $100,000 a month. But the sums were relatively small compared with Mr. Arafat's total holdings.

But the way he managed money, and the secrecy and corruption surrounding the administration of the Palestinian Authority, have tainted his legacy with ordinary Palestinians and left a burden for his political heirs.

"Some of it will be buried with him," a senior Israeli official said. "He had many special sources, and no one knows the full sum of money in these accounts. Even Suha doesn't know. He had several financial advisers, and each of them knows part of the story. No one knows it all, except Arafat."

Last year, an audit of Palestinian Authority finances by the International Monetary Fund disclosed that Mr. Arafat had diverted $900 million in public funds to a bank account he controlled from 1995 to 2002. Most of the cash, diverted from budget revenues, went to a variety of commercial ventures.

Last February, the French government opened a tax and money-laundering investigation into the deposit of about 11.5 million euros, nearly $15 million at today's rates, into the accounts of Mrs. Arafat between July 2002 and July 2003.

To try to bring some transparency and efficiency to the accounts of the Palestinian Authority, the United States and European Union pressed Mr. Arafat to appoint a former official of the International Monetary Fund, Salam Fayyad, as finance minister. Mr. Fayyad has made efforts to rationalize spending and to account for international aid, and discovered some $600 million in authority funds invested in about 79 commercial ventures for products including Canadian biopharmaceuticals to Algerian cellphones.

But Mr. Fayyad, who has not returned many calls for comment, has in the past acknowledged that he knows only part of the picture.

Many of the sources of the money are now a matter of public record. Money came to the Palestine Liberation Organization from Arab and other governments, the European Union and international aid agencies, as well as from monopolies on the sale of oil, gas, cement and other goods in the West Bank and Gaza.

Through various financial advisers, like Fuad Shubaki, Mr. Arafat and the Palestinians made millions of dollars through special export licenses to sell Iraqi oil that were granted by Saddam Hussein, who was sworn to Israel's destruction and valued Mr. Arafat's support in the 1991 Persian Gulf war, a senior Israeli official said.

Mr. Arafat also granted monopolies to top aides. Mr. Shubaki, now in a Palestinian jail in Jericho, had the monopoly for the varied Palestinian security forces, selling food and imported goods.

Jibril Rajoub, Mr. Arafat's national security adviser, who ran the security forces on the West Bank, was given a monopoly over oil and gas sales there, while his counterpart in Gaza, Muhammad Dahlan, controlled a market in special permits for passage in and out of Gaza, Israeli and United Nations officials said.

A knowledgeable Palestinian official said he "could not deny that these kinds of concessions exist."

Gaza is mostly sand. "But sand for cement costs more in Gaza than in Israel, and the reason is the cut taken by the Palestinian Authority," a senior United Nations aid official said. There are also protection rackets run by the Palestinian security services there and in the West Bank, he said.

There were also legitimate investments in a myriad of companies, many of them in West Africa but also in the United States and Europe.

The Israeli officials suggested that some of the money may now disappear, and agreed with French officials that some of the battling at his deathbed in Paris was an effort to gain information and access to those accounts.

The Israelis believe that Mr. Arafat never signed a will. "He never believed, even when he was sick, that he would die," an Israeli official said. "To my knowledge, he never signed anything."

His death presents severe problems for his political successors, who will need to put their hands on considerable sums to consolidate their positions.

"I think the Palestinians need money, and no one knows where all the money is," a senior Israeli official said. If Mr. Arafat's presumed successor, Mahmoud Abbas, "had the money, then he could consolidate his position faster, but now it will be harder," the official said.

Palestinians have complained that their salaries for the month of Ramadan, which will end in an expensive feast, have been late and paid only in part. In the last few days, Mr. Fayyad has told American officials that he does not have the money to pay the salaries.

Mr. Arafat's most visible current financial adviser, Muhammad Rashid, is a Kurd who is believed to control nearly $1 billion in assets for Mr. Arafat and the P.L.O., Israeli officials said. But Mr. Rashid, who went to Paris to be at Mr. Arafat's bedside, is only one of a number of financial advisers, and not necessarily the main one, they said.

Mr. Shubaki was the chief financial officer of the Palestinian Authority from its beginning in 1994, and has said little about what he knows. Mr. Arafat was pressed by the Americans to jail him after the fiasco of the Karine A incident in 2002, when Palestinian Authority money and Mr. Shubaki were linked through documents to the purchase of 50 tons of arms and explosives. They were to be smuggled into Palestinian territory on a boat called the Karine A, intercepted by the Israelis. That incident broke President Bush's faith in Mr. Arafat, Mr. Bush has said.

In 1997, there were Israeli news reports that some $150 million a year in tax revenue that Israel owed the Palestinians had been sent to a secret bank account in Tel Aviv under Mr. Arafat's personal control. Israeli officials said then that the money was for Mr. Arafat to use to flee with top aides in the event of a coup, or for use to pay off political allies, expenditures that donor nations would not approve.

Jaweed al-Ghussein, a former P.L.O. finance minister who quit under a cloud in 1996 and now lives in London, told The Associated Press that Mr. Arafat's financial empire was worth between $3 billion and $5 billion at the time - a surprisingly large margin of estimate.

He said that in the 1980's, he gave Mr. Arafat a check for some $10 million every month from the P.L.O. budget, to be used to pay fighters and their families. But Mr. Arafat would never account for his spending, citing national security. Mr. Ghussein also said Mr. Hussein had given Mr. Arafat $150 million in three payments for siding with Iraq in the 1991 gulf war.

Mr. Arafat provided money to everyone around him, Palestinians and Israelis said. "He was very friendly to his friends, to ensure they lived well," a Palestinian official said. "And he often gave money to those who criticized him. You want satisfied people around you, not angry ones."