by J. T. Rogers
ASFOUR: Red lines. Which we do not cross.
HIRSCHFELD: Yes.
Here, let us be friends.
MONA (To us): Two days and nights they worked, almost without stopping. Waffles, cigarettes, waffles, coffee, waffles. Behind closed doors without a road map. Hammering out a joint draft of a Declaration of Principles, known as a DOP—radical, without precedent—recognizing that each side had grievances. And both sides wished to find a way to find a way.
The entrance hall.
Larsen stands with the four guests, who wear winter coats and hold suitcases, mid-goodbyes to Toril and Finn.
LARSEN: Now for God’s sake, make sure you leave nothing behind. No traces, yes?
TORIL: Mr. Hassan, was last night’s venison to your liking?
ASFOUR: It was superb. Thank you, comrade.
You do not know it but, at heart, you are a communist.
QURIE (To Toril): My sweet, return with me to Tunis. My wife will not mind.
TORIL (Gesturing to Finn): But my husband might.
QURIE: He is a man of the West: they are flexible.
LARSEN: There is one last order of business: your code names. For the safety of all of you, from now on, when you are speaking on the phone . . .
(Gesturing to the professors) Israel will be referred to as “The Little Country.” Prime Minister Rabin will be “The Grandfather,” Shimon Peres “The Father,” and Yossi Beilin “The Son.”
(Gesturing to Qurie and Asfour) The PLO will be referred to as “Those Across the Sea.” Chairman Arafat will also be a “Grandfather,” and Abu Ala will be “Puntoffle.”
QURIE: Wait.
I am to be called—what? “The Falafel”?
HIRSCHFELD: “Puntoffle,” Abu Ala. It means “slipper,” in Yiddish.
(Qurie stares at him.)
QURIE: You are an even stranger people than I imagined.
(Slapping his hands) Come. Let us all embark.
(With stiff formality, Asfour extends his hand to Hirschfeld.)
ASFOUR: May your travels be safe.
HIRSCHFELD (Taking it): And yours.
ASFOUR (As they shake . . .): You are my first Jew.
HIRSCHFELD: I hope I was not too stringy.
ASFOUR: A bit. But still better than fish.
(Qurie steps toward Pundak who steps back and points at the ground between them.)
PUNDAK: Ah! Red line!
(Laughter. Qurie claps Pundak’s shoulder.)
QURIE (To the group): This one! This one brings me joy!
(Calling after the Israelis as they leave) Be safe! Fly well!
A shift.
Larsen and Qurie alone.
QURIE: Larsen, look at them: they are the Laurel and the Hardy. With them we can go no further.
LARSEN: Yair and Ron, they are not official but they are here for the officials.
QURIE: We must deal directly with the Israeli Government. You tell Yossi Beilin, I have put an offering on the table. I demand a man of equal status be the one who responds.
Beilin appears.
MONA (To us): Terje flew back immediately to Tel Aviv to meet with Yossi Beilin. The same tandoori restaurant.
BEILIN (As he eats): Yogurt?
LARSEN: No, thank you. Yossi, the progress that was made—in one two-day meeting—it is beyond imagination. And the Palestinians have told me they wish to return.
BEILIN: Excellent.
LARSEN: So then you must see that it is time to upgrade the Israeli delegation to official status.
BEILIN: Upgrade? Terje, Israel has no delegation to upgrade. That would be illegal.
LARSEN: Of course, but your professors—
BEILIN: My professors? I own them now.
LARSEN: Look, Yair and Ron are lovely and charming and semi-well-dressed, but they are not up to the task.
BEILIN: Their task is to listen and report back to me, which they have done very well.
LARSEN: Yossi, look at it from the other side. These are Ministers from the PLO who are risking their lives!
BEILIN: Which as Deputy Foreign Minister of the State of Israel is none of my concern.
(Cutting Larsen off before he can speak) If the Palestinians want to meet again in Oslo, then they will meet with Yair and Ron.
LARSEN: For God’s sake, we have to give them something!
Let me at least tell them Peres is behind this.
(Beilin stares, saying nothing. Larsen stares back.)
He doesn’t know?!
But . . .
Yossi.
You told me—
BEILIN: What? I told you what? Do you remember my precise words? Because I do.
When people talk to you, Terje, you should pay attention to what they actually say and not just listen for what you want to hear.
If and when something occurs in this Channel that I deem worthy enough to bring to the Foreign Minister’s attention—then, he will know. For now I, and I alone, know. If the PLO want to continue, this is how it will go.
The Larsen flat. Egeland paces before Mona and Larsen.
EGELAND: My God! I mean, I mean—my God!
Here I am, worried the Palestinians are running a rogue operation; it turns out, it’s the fucking Israelis.
LARSEN: Yes, well, things are a bit more complicated than we thought, but this is only a wrinkle.
EGELAND: A “wrinkle”?
(To Mona) Is he fucking serious?
(To Larsen) If Peres finds out what his so-called protégé is doing, he will tell our Foreign Minister.
LARSEN: It is not ideal, I agree, but Yossi will send Yair and Ron back here. Now I know what Abu Ala said, but I can get him to return as well. We must push on.
EGELAND (To Mona): Really? This is who you ended up with?
(To Larsen) Do you even listen to what falls out of your mouth? Mona and I are government officials—who will be accused of conspiring with another government’s official. We will be fired, jailed, worse!
(Cutting Larsen off before he can speak) We are done. We are pulling out—now.
MONA: Hold on.
(Both men turn and look at her.)
(Working it out) Beilin keeping Peres in the dark could be a very good sign.
The moment he upgrades the delegation, he will have to tell Peres. When Peres knows, he will have to tell Prime Minister Rabin. They hate each other. They have been rivals for thirty years. Anything Peres tells the Prime Minister, Rabin will be suspect of, in the extreme.
EGELAND: Ah.
I see.
(Unseen by Egeland, Larsen gestures to Mona: “I love you! I love you!”)
(Working it out) Beilin protects Peres by not telling him till he has something concrete. Then, when he has to tell him, Peres will go to Rabin—
LARSEN: And Rabin will not cut down a tree that is bearing fruit.
MONA: Might not cut it down.
(To Egeland) I think we should push on.
(Silence. Egeland thinks. Mona and Larsen wait.)
EGELAND: One more meeting. Discreet. Under wraps.
LARSEN: Guaranteed.
Borregaard Estate. The negotiating room.
Cigarettes. Ashtrays. Coffee cups. Piles of paper.
Qurie and Asfour sit, each reading a copy of a document; a nervous Hirschfeld and Pundak stand, watching them. No one moves. Then, Qurie looks up.
QURIE: Where is your direct reply to our concrete offer to take control of Gaza?
HIRSCHFELD: We think, the draft of the DOP Ron and I have written—clearly—puts forward our own specific proposals.
QURIE: No, you put forward eloquent generalities.
My friends, this is our second round of meetings. Time is ticking.
Who will control security at border checkpoints?
What is to become of the illegal settlements you have built on our land?
(Hirschfeld and Pundak look at each other, then back to Qurie and Asfour.)
HIRSCHFELD: We . . . can acknowledge that . . . in unoff
icially speaking to . . . a person in a position to know . . . there is some interest in your Gaza offer.
QURIE: You are speaking of the man with whom you breakfast in Tel Aviv.
HIRSCHFELD: I did not say his name, Abu Ala.
QURIE: But you did not not say his name.
(They stare at each other.)
Good.
Now this is what we further propose for our joint document: that it officially, concretely addresses the status of the city of Jerusalem.
(Hirschfeld and Pundak look at him, stunned.)
HIRSCHFELD: Abu Ala.
Jerusalem?
QURIE: Of course. We cannot have a DOP that does not address our claim to our home. If we do not address this issue, what hope do we have for peace?
A crowd of Israeli Citizens fills one side of the stage, voices raised as one. Mona speaks to us.
ISRAELI CITIZENS (In Hebrew): [Shut them out!]
MONA: March 1993. A Palestinian youth in Tel Aviv kills two Israelis.
ISRAELI CITIZENS (In Hebrew): [Shut them out!]
MONA: In response, Prime Minister Rabin seals Gaza.
(A crowd of Palestinian Citizens fills the stage’s other side.)
Forcing thirty thousand inhabitants out of work.
PALESTINIAN CITIZENS (In Arabic): [Let us work!]
MONA: Two Palestinians are slaughtered.
PALESTINIAN CITIZENS (In Arabic): [Let us work!]
MONA: An Israeli woman is hacked to death.
ISRAELI CITIZENS (In Hebrew): [Shut them out!]
MONA: The calls to our flat were constant. They could not speak to each other so Terje became their intermediary.
The Larsen flat.
Larsen speaks on one phone as Mona listens to his conversation on another.
At the same time, Beilin is in his office in Jerusalem; Qurie is in his office in Tunis.
LARSEN: I understand—I more than understand, I empathize. But you must see that this action is counterproductive.
BEILIN: For God’s sake! Our people are being murdered in the streets. If our Grandfather did not close the border he would have been hounded from office.
Tell Those Across the Sea that we are still willing to continue discussions. If Puntoffle will return for a third round, the Two Men from Haifa will return.
(Mona whispers in Larsen’s ear. He repeats what Mona is telling him into the phone.)
LARSEN: . . . Let me speak frankly.
. . . Those Across the Sea are emphatic.
. . . They say the Little Country must upgrade its delegation.
BEILIN: You tell Puntoffle that we decide who we send. Tell him to tell his Grandfather that when he puts something on the table of substance, then we will consider his request.
QURIE (To Larsen): We have put nothing but substance! We have offered to take Gaza off their hands! You tell the Son, we know that his Father Above Him has long pined for this. We demand an upgrade as reciprocity!
BEILIN (To Larsen): Those from Across the Sea are not in a position to make demands!
(Beilin is gone.)
QURIE: Fuck him! He is a fucking bastard! We are the ones risking without knowing whom we are risking to. Our lives hang in the balance! They will not upgrade, so I will not return!
LARSEN: They will!
MONA (Hissing to him): Terje!
QURIE: They will?
LARSEN: Yes.
MONA: What are you doing?
QURIE: Who? Who are / they sending?
LARSEN: I don’t know. Not the details. But an upgrade is coming.
QURIE: How do you know this?
LARSEN: Mona has told me.
She has met with the Son, from The Little Country. She has made him promise that if you return to Oslo and meet with the Men from Haifa one more time, then he will upgrade. Guaranteed.
QURIE (Beat. Then . . .): Mona has done this?
LARSEN: Yes.
QURIE: Swear it to me, Larsen. On the soul of your wife.
LARSEN: I do.
(Qurie and Larsen stand, facing outward, phones gripped.)
Puntoffle, you must trust me.
QURIE: I trust Mona, Larsen. Without her, you are nothing.
Book the flight.
(Qurie is gone.
Mona stands still. Staring at Larsen.)
LARSEN: Mona. He wants to come back. He needed me to tell him that. If there were another way / I would have chosen it.
MONA: What’s the one thing, Terje. The one thing you said you / would not do.
LARSEN: Darling, for a negotiation to succeed, there must be constructive ambiguity, so / both sides may claim achievement.
MONA: I typed that lecture, Terje, don’t read it back to me. Do you understand what you’ve done? That you have made me culpable?
LARSEN: Darling, Yossi will upgrade.
MONA: How do you know that?
LARSEN: Because he will.
MONA: That is not an answer!
LARSEN: Mona, look at what is happening! All we’ve accomplished. / A hundred years of hate and bloodshed—teetering on the cusp of change!
We must do whatever it takes!
MONA: That you have now jeopardized by your recklessness. Your total disregard of everything we agreed to.
(In response to Larsen’s last line above) Except lying to them, Terje! Only a bungling amateur lies!
LARSEN: God, you are so fucking Norwegian! Everything is an objection! Everything is a problem! I am on the phone with them, day and night, fighting to stay on my feet, and all you want is for me to sink to my fucking knees!
(Silence. Neither moves.)
Darling. I apologize.
Forgive me.
(Mona doesn’t move.)
Mona. You know how I . . .
I meant none of it.
You—you are everything / to me.
MONA: Terje.
This all ends. Tomorrow.
Unless you do one thing.
LARSEN: Of course.
What?
MONA: Tell Holst what we are doing.
LARSEN: But but but but he’s Holst.
MONA: And about to be Foreign Minister.
LARSEN: But he’s a megalomaniac. The very fact he did not initiate—this alone will doom us.
MONA: Terje, you have compromised me. We must get Holst’s support before he is responsible for the Ministry—for any mistakes by the Ministry—or my career is over.
And if we can get him on our side, that megalomania is exactly what we need.
(Larsen stares at her, trying to keep up.)
Holst does nothing in half measures. If we can convince him to keep the Channel open, when he takes office he will put the full weight of the Ministry behind it. I will be officially involved, and we will make this happen.
(They look at each other.)
LARSEN: You are the most extraordinary woman who has ever lived. / There are no words to describe how much I love you.
MONA: Terje. Terje. No. Not here. Not now.
I’ll invite them to dinner this Sunday.
LARSEN: But Yossi and Abu Ala will both call.
MONA: Good. Then Holst will know we’re not making this up. We’ll pretend we got the time zones crossed. Better to throw him into it than try to explain.
Holst and Marianne appear in the positions they held at the end of the first scene.
MONA: You’ll tell a story, then a toast, all to flatter Holst.
(They toast.)
LARSEN: What do you think he’ll say?
MONA: He’ll be a little upset.
HOLST: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!
MONA: But he’ll listen to reason.
HOLST: I forbid this! Do you understand me?
(To Larsen) You are a fucking dilettante!
(To Mona) You work for me!
(To them both) And this is over!
ACT TWO
The stage is filled with bodies moving to and fro.
Qurie approaches Holst as Mona
speaks to us.
MONA: Two days later. The bar of the Hotel Bristol in Oslo. I pressed and Holst agreed to a meeting. Abu Ala came from Tunis. He would convince Holst to back us, or we were done.
HOLST: What Terje has told me, this is all true? That Arafat is willing to risk dialogue with the Israeli Government?
QURIE: The Chairman is one thousand percent behind this back channel. You have my word, upon the heads of my daughters.
HOLST: Who knows about this? Exactly who?
QURIE: Arafat, myself, and Hassan Asfour.
HOLST: Good.
QURIE: And the Jordanians.
HOLST: What?!?
(Larsen gestures to Qurie: “What are you doing?”)
QURIE: The Chairman had no choice but to speak of this to King Hussein.
HOLST (To Larsen): Did you know this?! / Did you keep this from me as well?!
LARSEN: Johan Jorgen, I had no idea!
(To Qurie) Why would Arafat do such a thing?!
QURIE: The Jordanians are our patrons. To them, we can afford no secrets. For without their support, the PLO would cease to exist. But rest assured: when the Chairman is forced to speak of things he does not wish to . . .
(Leaning in) Believe me, he ensures that his words make no sense whatsoever.
HOLST: Look, what has happened so far—the violation of protocol has been totally inappropriate.
QURIE: I agree.
HOLST: My God, the risks. Not even a security detail.
QURIE: That was Larsen’s idea.
HOLST: Driving alone, middle of the night—rental cars!
QURIE: Again, Larsen.
Minister Holst, in but two meetings, the Israelis and ourselves have made progress beyond all hopes. With your support, our secret tributary will continue to feed fresh water to the official Washington-sponsored talks, moving two peoples towards peace, and enshrining your name forever.
(Holst stares at him. Qurie stares back. Holst decides.)
HOLST: At all future meetings there will be an elite two-man security detail, chosen by me.
QURIE: Agreed.
HOLST: My Deputy, Jan Egeland, will run all further liaisons between you and your Israeli—
QURIE: No. It must be Larsen.