Lebanon’s Civil War: The Sequel

After years of recovery from grief and agony, Lebanon is once again trapped in a cruel prologue to civil war: The country’s reservoir of anti-Syrian politicians and journalists are tumbling like tightly packed rows of collapsing dominoes.

The dynamics of power in the Lebanese political system suggest that neither the anti-Syrian nor the pro-Syrian factions will be able achieve dominance over the country in our lifetime. Nonetheless, both have the means to inflict considerable and prolonged suffering on the Lebanese people in a futile attempt to transform the country’s mix of competing political creeds into one norm. Based on this understanding, the world should—temporarily—abandon the idea of an international tribunal for the slain Lebanese leader Rafik al-Hariri, because it will most likely lead to more hostility. Instead, the international community should focus on helping Lebanon cure itself of the evil that, in recent history, we have seen its people inflict on each other.

A long time ago in Lebanon, when bloodshed was at its zenith, a much revered Lebanese poet wrote these words decrying political assassinations:



“let’s execute him against the door…

it would be best to finish him off

against a door of blue wood…

He told me: ‘talk

of this flower dying according to the curve

of a thought. . .’

Enough.

We shot him against the light

and let hatred rise like baked bread.

Maybe I’ll weep for him.”



The poet is Nadia Tueni, beloved Lebanese litteratus who died in 1983. Little did she know that her son would be one of whom her verses speak.

Pierre Gemayel was the latest victim in a ruthless series of political purges. Anonymous assassins gunned him down last Monday while he was driving his car in Beirut. Before him, Rafik al-Hariri, former prime minister and a leading Sunni figure, was assassinated in February 2005. Samir Kassir, an exceptional Lebanese journalist, was assassinated four months after the Hariri incident. George Hawi, former chief of the Lebanese Communist Party, was murdered a few weeks later. And Gebran Tueni—Nadia’s son, also a distinguished journalist and parliamentarian—was blasted into oblivion in December of the same year.

Other leaders have been wounded but survived similar attempts on their lives. These figures had a few things in common, most notably their public denunciations of Syria and its allies in Lebanon, and the fact that their killers—at least officially—remain unknown.

Following the murder of Gemayel, there were calls from Lebanese leaders and others around the world to expedite the establishment of an international tribunal by the United Nations to investigate these assassinations and subsequently carry out trials. John Bolton, asked by a reporter whether the UN should consider postponing the question, said: “How incredibly wrong that would be…Not the time to seek justice?”

Unfortunately, instead of quenching the crisis, the tribunal will most likely produce the exact opposite effect. A couple of weeks ago, the Hezbollah and Amal members of the Lebanese cabinet quit their posts in an act—many suspect—of protest against the government’s approval of a UN draft setting up the aforementioned international tribunal.

Hezbollah’s growing hostility towards the Lebanese administration reached a new peak last week when the party called for the government’s dismantlement. In his most recent speech, Nasrallah, Hezbollah’s leader, called the current government “Mr. Jeffrey Feltman’s government,” referring to the US ambassador to Lebanon.

To be sure, the question of who is responsible for the recent spate of murders needs to be settled, but now is not the time. Now is the time to revive the Lebanese national dialogue and restore relations between the various sects and political parties. As long as the sectarian divide in Lebanon continues to widen, the answer to “who is to blame for these assassinations?” will not serve the nation’s interests. In fact, were that question to be answered tomorrow, the road to sectarian blood-letting would continue to materialize without noticeable diminution.

As difficult as it may be, the Lebanese government and the Lebanese people should not push for an immediate international tribunal because that would inflame Syria and its allies in Lebanon. Instead, the government—and its supporters in the West—should focus on salvaging Lebanese national unity from internal decline by reaching out to the opposition and delineating acceptable terms for national reconciliation.

So far, the West’s strategy to deal with the crisis has had a debilitating effect on the country’s national dialogue: issuing warnings against Hezbollah, condemning those who associate with them, and abstaining from involving itself in any solution. It does not take a Middle East expert to realize that this policy—the mirror image of how Syria and Iran are pushing Hezbollah to demonize their rivals—is not a strategy of reconciliation.

Let us not be fooled—this is a foreign play involving non-Lebanese powers trying to make a name on a stage on which they don’t belong. Alas, the outcome of this production will most likely be paid for by Lebanese blood. Do the Lebanese people have to accept this situation and continue to hammer and strike each other for the benefit of other nations? I believe they still have a chance to unlearn the habits of civil war and turn to those trying to pit them against each other and say “no thank you, take your trash elsewhere!”



Mohammed J. Herzallah ’07, a Crimson editor, is a government concentrator in Adams House.