By
Uri Avnery, 25.11.06
DURING
THE first Lebanon war, I visited Jounieh, a town some 20 km north of Beirut. At
the time, it served as a port for the Christian forces. It was an exciting
evening.
In
spite of the war raging in nearby Beirut, Jounieh was full of life. The
Christian elite spent the day in the sun-drenched marina, the women lounging in
bikinis, the men slugging whisky. The three of us (myself and two young women
from my editorial staff - a correspondent and a photographer) were the only
Israelis in town, and so we were feted. Everybody invited us onto their yachts,
and one rich couple insisted that we come to their home as guests of a family
celebration.
It
was indeed something special. The dozens of family members belonged to the
cream of the elite - rich merchants, a well-known painter, several university
professors. The drinks flowed like water, the conversation flowed in several
languages.
Around
midnight, everybody was slightly drunk. The men got me into a
"political" conversation. They knew that I was an Israeli, but had no
idea about my views.
"Why
don't you go into West Beirut?" one portly gentleman asked me. West Beirut
was held by Arafat's PLO forces, who were defending hundreds of thousands of
Sunni inhabitants.
"Why?
What for?" I queried.
"What
do you mean? To kill them! To kill everybody!"
"Everybody?
Women and children, too?"
"Of
course! All of them!"
For
a moment, I thought that he was joking. But the faces of the men around him
told me that he was deadly serious and that everybody agreed with him.
At
that moment I grasped that this beautiful country, rich in history, blessed
with all the pleasure of life, is sick. Very, very sick.
The
next day I indeed went into West Beirut, but for another purpose altogether. I
crossed the lines to meet with Yasser Arafat.
(By
the way, at the end of the party in Jounieh my hosts gave me a parting present:
a big packet of hashish. On the morrow, on my way back to Israel, after Arafat
had made our meeting public, I heard over the radio that four ministers were
demanding that I should be put on trial for treason. I remembered the hashish
and it went sailing out of the car window.)
I
AM reminded of that conversation in Jounieh every time something happens in
Lebanon. This week, for example.
Much
nonsense is being spoken and written about that country, as if it were a
country like any other. George W. Bush talks about "Lebanese
democracy" as if there were such a thing, others speak about the
"parliamentary majority" and "minority factions"' about the
need for "national unity" to uphold "national
independence", as if they were talking about the Netherlands or Finland.
All these have no connection with Lebanese reality.
Geographically,
Lebanon is a torn country, and there lies a part of the secret of its beauty.
Snow-covered mountain chains, green valleys, picturesque villages, beautiful
sea-shore. But Lebanon is also torn socially. The two schisms are
inter-connected: in the course of history, persecuted minorities from all over
the region sought refuge between its mountains, where they could defend
themselves.
The
result: a large number of big and small communities, ready to spring to arms at
any moment. At best, Lebanon is a loose federation of mutually suspicious
communities, at worst a battlefield of feuding groups which hate each other's
guts. The annals of Lebanon are full of civil wars and horrible massacres. Many
times, this or that community called in foreign enemies to assist it against
its neighbors.
Between
the communities, there are no permanent alliances. One day, communities A and B
get together to fight community C. The next day, B and C fight against A.
Moreover, there are sub-communities, which more than once have been known to
make an alliance with an opposing community against their own.
Altogether,
a fascinating mosaic, but also a very dangerous one - the more so since every
community keeps a private army, equipped with the best of weapons. The official
Lebanese army, composed of men from all communities, is unable to carry out any
meaningful mission.
What
is a Lebanese "community"? On the face of it, it's all about
religion. But not only religion. The community is also an ethnic tribe, with
some national attributes. A Jew will easily understand this, since the Jews are
also such a community, even if spread around the world. But for an ordinary
European or American, it is difficult to understand this structure. It is
easier to think about a "Lebanese nation" - a nation that exists only
in the imagination or as a vision of the future.
The
loyalty to the community comes before any other loyalty - and certainly before
any loyalty to Lebanon. When the rights of a community or sub-community are
menaced, its members rise up as one in order to destroy those who are
threatening them.
THE
MAIN communities are the Christian, the Sunni-Muslim, the Shiite-Muslim and the
Druze (who, as far as religion goes, are a kind of extreme Shiites.) The
Christians are divided into several sub-communities, the most important of
which are the Maronites (named after a saint who lived some 1600 years ago.)
The Sunnis were brought to Lebanon by the (Sunni) Ottoman rulers to strengthen
their hold, and were mainly settled in the large port cities. The Druze came to
find refuge in the mountains. The Shiites, whose importance has risen over the
last few decades, were for many centuries a poor and down-trodden community, a
doormat for all the others.
As
in almost all Arab societies, the Hamula (extended family) plays a vital role
in all communities. Loyalty to the Hamula precedes even loyalty to the
community, according to the ancient Arab saying: "With my cousin against
the foreigner, with my brother against my cousin." Almost all Lebanese leaders are chiefs of
the great families.
TO
GIVE some idea of the Lebanese tangle, a few recent examples: in the civil war
that broke out in 1975, Pierre Gemayel, the chief of a Maronite family, called
upon the Syrians to invade Lebanon in order to help him against his Sunni
neighbors, who were about to attack his territory. His grandson by the same
name, who was murdered this week, was a member of a coalition whose aim is to
liquidate Syrian influence in Lebanon. The Sunnis, who were fighting against
the Syrians and the Christians, are now the allies of the Christians against
the Syrians.
The
Gemayel family was the main ally of Ariel Sharon, when he invaded Lebanon in
1982. The common aim was to drive out the (mainly Sunni) Palestinians. For that
purpose, Gemayel's men carried out the horrendous massacre of Sabra and
Shatila, after the assassination of Bashir Gemayel, the uncle of the man who
was murdered this week. The massacre was overseen by Elie Hobeika from the roof
of the headquarters of the Israeli general Amos Yaron. Afterwards, Hobeika
became a minister under Syrian auspices. Another person responsible for the
slaughter was Samir Geagea, the only one who was put on trial in a Lebanese
court. He was condemned to several life prison terms and later pardoned. This
week he was one of the main speakers at the funeral of Pierre Gemayel the
grandson.
In
1982, the Shiites welcomed the invading Israeli army with flowers, rice and
candy. A few months later they started a guerilla war against them, which
lasted for 18 years, in the course of which Hizbullah became a major force in
Lebanon.
One
of the leading Maronites in the fight against the Syrians was General Michel
Aoun, who was elected president by the Maronites and later driven out. Now he
is an ally of Hizbullah, the main supporter of Syria.
All
this resembles Italy at the time of the Renaissance or Germany during the
30-Years War. But in Lebanon this is the present and the foreseeable future.
In
such a reality, using the term "democracy" is, of course, a joke. By
agreement, the government of the country is divided between the communities.
The president is always a Maronite, the prime minister a Sunni, the speaker of
the parliament a Shiite. The same applies to all positions in the country, at
all levels: a member of a community cannot aspire to a position suited to his
talents if it "belongs" to another community. Almost all citizens
vote according to family affiliation. A Druze voter, for example, has no chance
of overthrowing Walid Jumblat, whose family has ruled the Druze community for
500 years at least (and whose father was murdered by the Syrians.) He doles out
all the jobs "belonging" to his community.
The
Lebanese parliament is a senate of community chiefs, who divide the spoils
between them. The "democratic coalition" which was put in power by
the Americans after the murder of the Sunni Prime Minister Rafik Hariri, is a
temporary alliance of the Maronite, Sunni and Druze chiefs. The
"opposition", which enjoys Syrian patronage, is composed of the
Shiites and one Maronite faction. The wheel can turn at a moment's notice, when
other alliances are formed.
Hizbullah,
which appears to Israelis as an extension of Iran and Syria, is first of all a
Shiite movement that strives to obtain for its community a larger part of the
Lebanese pie, as indeed is its due in accordance with its size. Hassan
Nasrallah - who is also the scion of an important family - has his eyes on the
government in Beirut, not on the mosques in Jerusalem.
WHAT
DOES all this say about the present situation?
For
decades now, Israel has been stirring the Lebanese pot. In the past, it
supported the Gemayel family but was bitterly disappointed: the family's
"Phalanges" (the name was taken from Fascist Spain, which was greatly
admired by grandfather Pierre), were revealed in the 1982 war as a gang of
thugs without military value. But the Israeli involvement in Lebanon continues
to this day. The aim is to eliminate Hizbullah, remove the Syrians and threaten
nearby Damascus. All these tasks are hopeless.
Some
history: in the 30s, when the Maronites were the leading force in Lebanon, the
Maronite Patriarch expressed open sympathy for the Zionist enterprise. At that
time, many young people from Tel-Aviv and Haifa studied at the American
University of Beirut, and rich Jewish people from Palestine spent their
holidays at Lebanese resorts. Once, before the founding of Israel, I crossed
the Lebanese border by mistake and a Lebanese Gendarme politely showed me the
way back.
During
the first years of Israel, the Lebanese border was our only peaceful one. Those
days there was a saying: "Lebanon will be the second Arab country to make
peace with Israel. It will not dare to be the first". Only in 1970, when
King Hussein drove the PLO from Jordan into Lebanon, with the active help of
Israel, did this border heat up. Now even Fuad Siniora, the prime minister
appointed by the Americans, feels compelled to declare that "Lebanon will
be the last Arab state to make peace with Israel!"
All
efforts to remove Syrian influence from Lebanon are bound to fail. In order to
understand this, it is enough to look at the map. Historically, Lebanon is a
part of the land of Syria ("Sham" in Arabic). The Syrians have never
resigned themselves to the fact that the French colonial regime tore Lebanon from
their land.
The
conclusions: First, let's not get stuck in the Lebanese mess again. As
experience has shown, we shall always come out the losers. Second, in order to
have peace on our northern border, all the potential enemies, and first of all
Syria, must be involved.
Meaning:
we must give back the Golan Heights.
The
Bush administration forbids our government to talk with the Syrians. They want
to talk with them themselves, when the time comes. Quite possibly, they will
then sell them the Golan in return for Syrian help in Iraq. If so, should we
not hurry and "sell" them the Golan (which belongs to them anyhow)
for a better price for ourselves?
Lately,
voices have been heard, even of senior army people, that hint at this
possibility. It should be said loudly and clearly: Because of a few thousands
of settlers and the politicians who do not dare to confront them, we are liable
to be dragged into more superfluous wars and to endanger the population of
Israel.
This
is the third conclusion: There is only one way to win a war in Lebanon - and
that is to avoid it.