Heroism and Sadness in Beirut

Heroism and Sadness in Beirut
by Rami G. Khouri

BEIRUT -- On last Thursday, Beirut was both a sad and heroic city, as a million or more citizens braved rain and cold to mount two massive rallies for two large than life assassinated men -- former Prime Minister Rafik Hariri, and Hizbullah's late special operations chief Imad Mughniyeh. Both the Saad Hariri-led pro-government forces and the Hizbullah-led opposition once again confirmed their tremendous organizational strength and popular support. Their deep legitimacy was again affirmed by their ability to put bodies on the street in very bad weather conditions.

Unfortunately for them both, this is an increasingly meaningless exercise, and a measure of their collective sadness. Beirut's and Lebanon's current problems -- reflecting their strengths and weaknesses -- were on full display last week. One of the telltale signs of the increasingly marginal nature of events in Lebanon to the rest of the world was the fact that most speakers at the two massive demonstrations were yelling much of the time. The more you have to wave your arms and raise your voice to touch your constituents, the less political substance you have to offer them.

Saad Hariri of the pro-government March 14 forces and Hizbullah leader Hassan Nasrallah both raised the temperature and expanded the arena of conflict, to incorporate the upcoming Arab summit into domestic Lebanese politics, and to engage in a worldwide war to destroy Israel as a response to Israel's assassination of Mughniyeh in Damascus. Such potentially cosmic and cataclysmic developments were received Thursday with surprising calm, almost nonchalance. The louder Lebanese leaders yell, and the more frequently that hundreds of thousands of their supporters take to the streets, the less seriously they are taken around the region and around the world.

The measure of their collective sadness is also the anchor of their shared heroism. It is a testament to the spirit and substance of the Lebanese people that somewhere between one and two million angry, sad and frightened people gathered in the streets of a very polarized capital and expressed their sentiments with fiery speeches, sharp slogans, dire threats, and steel-like determination -- without a single incidence of violence. Partly this reflects the professionalism and responsible nationalism of the armed forces, but mainly it reflects the inherently pluralistic political character of the Lebanese people.

The heroism of Lebanon today is that its people exercise spirited, nonviolent politics in public in a manner that almost all other Arab citizens do not. The Lebanese people are widely fed up with the political stalemate that defines their governance system, but they have no way to change things, so they continue to follow their tribal, ideological and religious leaders. These leaders for the most part have proven themselves masters of incumbency and legitimacy, but amateurs at political achievement and progress. They remain incapable of resolving the important national issues that confront and threaten Lebanon, related to the economy, security, emigration, environment, debt, and relations with Arab and foreign powers.

Lebanon's heroic political activism is diminished by the perpetual stalemate that has bogged down all sides for the past two years, reflected in the almost total dysfunction of key government institutions like the parliament, cabinet, presidency, and national dialogue committee. At the same time, though, the Lebanese clearly do not want to resume their 1975-1999 civil war. They have had many opportunities to do so in the past year, and have always emphatically rejected those openings to civil war; they will continue, though, to withstand occasional local violence and bombings, political stalemate, and massive street demonstrations.

The many linkages between domestic Lebanese politics, regional forces and international powers mean that Lebanon will remain in the news, but domestic politics will increasingly be seen as a byproduct of regional and global politics. Millions will march peacefully, occasional violence will occur, wars will happen now and then, tensions will rise and ebb, but most of the world will watch this with decreasing interest and concern. The heroism and sadness of the Lebanese people and political system mean that the impact of their chronic local feuds on other countries will remain small.

This mirrors the same pattern of events that defined Palestine in the past quarter century or so. The low-intensity war between some Palestinians and Israel is one that the region and the world find manageable, if regrettable. It elicits their humanitarian support, but little else. If the highest symbol of global acknowledgement of the seriousness of the Palestinian situation is to send Tony Blair as a special envoy, this is a pretty clear sign of the world's broad indifference. The Palestinians and Israelis are as much to blame as the world.

Lebanon seems to be moving to a similar situation, fortified by the deep heroism and substance of its able people, yet crippled and increasingly marginalized by an antiquated political system managed by a broadly incompetent political elite.

Rami G. Khouri is Editor-at-large of The Daily Star, and Director of the Issam Fares Institute for Public Policy and International Affairs at the American University of Beirut, in Beirut, Lebanon.

Rami Khouri