by J. T. Rogers
What our enemies back home, the ones who want to tear this treaty up, how they will use this to—
Listen to me! Peres and Rabin are leaving. They are packing their bags and leaving—right now.
I am not bluffing.
Do you understand?
QURIE: And I, too, Uri.
The Chairman will sign as he requests, or he will leave. Now.
(Silence. No one moves.)
AMERICAN DIPLOMAT: Well, this is a pickle.
(The rest of the room turns and looks at him.)
Clearly this is a complex issue, and had we more time, it could be addressed in a gradual manner.
QURIE: Yes, but it cannot be denied that—
AMERICAN DIPLOMAT: I’m. Still. Talking.
(Beat. Then back to them all) But we don’t. Have the time.
Because people are waiting.
So.
Here’s what’s gonna happen.
(To Savir) You’ll accept the word “PLO” and sign the document. If your leadership has any problems with that, they can speak to Warren Christopher.
(To Qurie) Tell your leadership, no more changes.
(To them all) See you out there.
And congratulations.
(And he is out the door—gone.
Beat. Then . . .)
MONA: I think we should all get ready.
(Mumbles of “yes,” “of course.”
Savir and Qurie exit.)
LARSEN (Stopping her): Darling, I have been working through the seating chart for dinner after, but I don’t have our seating for the ceremony.
MONA: Terje, there are no seats for us at the ceremony.
LARSEN: What do you mean?
Darling.
I know we are not going to be standing up there on the dais, but—
MONA: We can stand in the back and watch.
(He stares at her.)
LARSEN: “In the back”?
Are you.
Mona.
How?
MONA: Terje. It’s not about you.
(Larsen stares at her. She stares back.
He turns, and exits.
For a moment, Mona is alone onstage.
Then the Company fills the space.
As one, they turn upstage, backs to us as they, and we, watch footage from the Rose Garden ceremony of September 13, 1993—Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin and Chairman Yasser Arafat shaking hands; President Bill Clinton standing between them—as we hear the gravely voice of Rabin:)
VOICE OF RABIN: “Let me say to you, the Palestinians—we are destined to live together on the same soil in the same land. We, the soldiers who have returned from battles stained with blood; we, who have seen our relatives and friends killed before our eyes; we, who have attended the funerals and cannot look into the eyes of their parents; we, who have come from a land where parents bury their children; we, who have fought against you, the Palestinians; we say to you today, in a loud and clear voice—enough of blood and tears. Enough!”
(No one moves. Then, as one, the Company turns around to face us.)
MONA: January 1994.
HOLST: Four months after the Rose Garden signing, Johan Jorgen Holst dies of a heart attack.
BEILIN: One month later, an Israeli settler kills twenty-nine Palestinians as they pray at the Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron.
SAVIR: Tel Aviv. November 1995.
SINGER: During a demonstration in support of the Oslo Accords, Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin is assassinated by an Israeli extremist who opposes them.
QURIE: February 1996.
On a bus in Jerusalem, a Palestinian suicide bomber detonates himself, killing twenty-six Israelis.
ASFOUR: And in the hallway of his apartment building in Gaza, Hassan Asfour is beaten almost to death. His attackers are never found. He retires from public life.
MONA: September 2000.
SINGER: Seven years to the month after the Accords were signed, violence reerupts in the Occupied Territories.
BEILIN: The Second Intifada begins.
QURIE: Ahmed Qurie becomes Prime Minister of the Palestinian Authority. Two years later the PLO is defeated at the ballot box by Hamas. He retires from public life.
MARIANNE: November 2004.
Marianne Heiberg dies of a heart attack.
PERES: And at the same time, in a hospital in a suburb of Paris, His Excellency, Chairman Yasser Arafat dies.
PUNDAK: April 2014.
Ron Pundak dies of cancer.
PERES: September 2016.
Shimon Peres, the last surviving founder of the State of Israel, dies.
SINGER: Joel Singer lives on.
BEILIN: Yossi Beilin lives on.
SAVIR: To this day, Uri Savir and Ahmed Qurie, and their daughters, have never been out of touch.
(Mona and Larsen are alone onstage.)
LARSEN (Gesturing to us): Mona, tell them.
Without the Oslo Channel, there would be no Palestinian Authority. We—all of us, together—we made the eventuality of a Palestinian State accepted by the world. We helped the Israelis safeguard their future.
MONA: Terje.
LARSEN: Without Oslo there would have been no peace between Israel and Jordan. No withdrawal of Israeli forces from Lebanon. Of Israeli forces from Gaza. Of—
MONA: Terje!
I am trying. But, even now, I am struggling. To know if what we did—how we did—was right.
(They stare at each other.)
LARSEN: Then I will tell them.
(Larsen turns to us.
Slowly, he advances toward us as he speaks.)
We created a process.
Seeing all this, is that not clear?
A model—that can be used again—to bring implacable enemies together, to find a way forward. Together.
(He stands still, taking us all in.)
My friends, do not look at where we are; look behind you.
(He points behind) There! See how far we have come!
If we have come this far, through blood, through fear—hatred—how much further can we yet go?
(Points ahead) There! On the horizon. The Possibility.
Do you see it?
Do you?
(He waits. He stares at us.)
Good.
END OF PLAY
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost, my thanks to Bartlett Sher and André Bishop.
As I write in the introduction herein, Bart set up the initial meeting that started me down the path to this play. From inception to opening night, he has been my partner on this project. Bart’s endless, incisive questions pushed me to cut, clarify, and improve; his staging of the play is a thing of rigorous beauty.
André gave Oslo a slot in the Lincoln Center Theater season before I had written a word. He then committed the theater’s resources to a series of workshops, giving Bart and me a laboratory to work on both the script and its staging. What more could a playwright ask for?
This play would not exist without them, and I dedicate it to them.
When I had researched endlessly but not yet put pen to paper, New Dramatists and the Weston Playhouse sent me off to seclusion in Vermont. The time and space there—along with the encouragement of fellow secluded playwrights Erin Courtney and Clarence Coo—unlocked the play, and I was able to begin. Bless them all.
Early in the writing of Oslo, the PlayPenn New Play Development Conference in Philadelphia, led by Paul Meshejian, gave me space and time to work. With the assistance of director Tyne Rafaeli and our company of actors, I was able to finish a first, great beast of a draft. Board member Victor F. Keen then provided space for Tyne, the actors, and me to reconvene and continue working on the play. All involved have my immense gratitude.
My thanks to the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation. Through their Theatre Commissioning and Production Initiative, they gave me money to pay my bills. Their timing and generosity were a godsend.
The list of actors in New York City and Philadel
phia who read this play for me as I wrote it (and wrote it and wrote it) would stretch on for pages, so let me say here collectively what I’ve said to each of them in person: thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I cannot sing the praises enough of the cast, designers, production team, and crew that brought Oslo to life at Lincoln Center Theater. Has any playwright ever had such a team of collaborators? Daily, they awed, thrilled, and inspired me.
Finally, my ongoing gratitude to three people who continue to shape my life:
Rebecca Ashley, my beloved partner in all things, on whose shrewd notes and wise counsel I daily rely. Her influence on this author’s work and life can’t be overstated.
John Buzzetti, my first and only theater agent, who has championed me for my entire career. I am blessed—truly—to have him in my corner, and as my friend.
My father, Marvin L. Rogers, who passed on to me his love of politics and history, and his joy of a good joke. The best one in this play was told to me by him. Thanks, Dad.
PHOTO: REBECCA ASHLEY
J. T. ROGERS’s plays include Oslo (Lincoln Center Theater); Blood and Gifts (National Theatre, London; Lincoln Center Theater); The Overwhelming (National Theatre, followed by UK tour with Out of Joint; Roundabout Theatre); White People (Off-Broadway with Starry Night Entertainment); and Madagascar (Theatre503, London; Melbourne Theatre Company). He was nominated for an Olivier Award as one of the original playwrights for the Tricycle Theatre of London’s The Great Game: Afghanistan. His works have been staged throughout the United States, and in Germany, Canada, Australia, and Israel. Rogers’s essays have appeared in the New York Times, in London’s Independent and the NewStatesman, and American Theatre. Recent awards include Guggenheim, NEA/TCG, and NYFA fellowships; the Pinter Review Prize for Drama; the American Theatre Critics Association’s Osborne New Play Award; and the William Inge Center for the Arts’ New Voices Award. Rogers serves on the board of the Dramatist Guild’s Dramatists Legal Defense Fund. He is an alum of New Dramatists and holds an honorary doctorate from his alma mater, the University of North Carolina School of the Arts.