Lebanese Prime Minister's Decision On Exiles Pleases Everyone

By Marilyn Raschka

Lebanon's Prime Minister Rafik Al Hariri's decision to deny entry to 415 Palestinians deported by Israel Dec. 17 earned him the title of "he who pleases all of the people.'' At least for this once.

For the Lebanese there were more issues at stake than the fate of the 415 Palestinians, with whom most Lebanese sympathize even if they disagree with the Islamic radicalism of which these individuals are accused by Israel. The main issue for the Lebanese is their sovereignty and Israel's fondness for compromising it.

"There was no choice but to say 'no,' to deny the Palestinians entry," said political science professor Michel Nehme of the American University of Beirut. "Why would any country work against its own sovereignty?" he asks.

"Suppose we picked up all the West Bank Palestinians here illegally and deported them to Israel? How would the world react to that?" Nehme notes that the actual situation is far worse than the hypothetical one he describes. "These deported Palestinians actually were forced out of their own country."

Conversations over the holidays focused on the 415 Muslim fundamentalists, with the average citizen arguing as credibly as the political scientist. If Lebanon, struggling with sectarian problems which fueled the bloody 15-year civil war that reduced it from one of the Middle East's most prosperous countries to an international charity case, had allowed these men in, people argued, Israel would have flogged the old accusation that the Lebanese government remains under pressure from its own militant Muslim groups here and that it still has no control over its own borders.

Speaking of Israel, one man summed up the opinion of many. "First they say we are a terrorist country, then they send us people they claim are terrorists."

Lebanese Foreign Minister Faris Bweiz argued "the four-factor." He told reporters, "This time 400, next time 4,000 and the next 40,000." The past has proven him right in his concerns for the future.

Since the onset of the intifada in 1987, 66 Palestinians have been deported to Lebanon—four, five or six at a time. But, back in 1948, during the fighting with Israel, thousands of Palestinians were driven or fled across the Lebanese border. When Israel occupied the West Bank and Gaza Strip in 1967 it happened again. Then, in 1970, more came with the fall from grace of the PLO in Jordan.

U.N. records show 300,000 Palestinians registered as refugees in Lebanon. Reality puts the number of Palestinians living here at close to half a million. The Rabin government apparently thought that 415 more wouldn't much matter.

When Israel's ambassador to the U.N. topped off his government's justification for the deportation by saying, "They will be happier with their own kind [in Lebanon]," the "birds flocking together" bit did not set well with Lebanese of any "feather. "

Let the Israelis Be Warned

Let the Israelis be warned. When Lebanon sits down at the next round of peace talks, Israelis will face a feistier Lebanese team than the one to which they bid adieu in December. In addition to calling for the implementation of United Nations Security Council Resolution 799 on the deportees, Lebanon will have additional backing for a renewal of its own call for carrying out U.N. Resolution 425 on Israeli occupation of southern Lebanon.

Hariri's decision was backed by Syria and Lebanon's cross-sectarian cabinet. Obviously, he had the complete backing of Lebanese President Elias Hrawi, who as a Christian was happy to leave to his Sunni Muslim prime minister the problem of dealing with 415 Sunni Palestinians.

Hariri's swift action, however, may have complicated relations with his foreign minister, Faris Bweiz, who was eclipsed in the flurry of events. A local columnist explained that Hariri was "interfering" in foreign affairs to the extent of "marginalizing" the foreign minister.

But is anyone complaining about power to the prime minister? Not a peep. In fact, the very Christians who boycotted last summer's elections—which paved the way for Hariri's appointment—are now competing with each other to invite the portly prime minister to feast in their homes.

The dinner table is as good as any other place to heal political-sectarian rifts. For Lebanon's Christians, Hariri—who holds a Saudi as well as Lebanese passport—is a Muslim they understand. Those Saudi's mean good links with the West, especially the United States. His billions prove he's a good capitalist. His plans to rebuild downtown Beirut as a world-renowned trade center are music to the ears of free enterprise types of all sects. Hariri is not going to mold Lebanon into a socialist or Islamic state.

But all that good news is still overshadowed by the Palestinian issue. Palestinian residents in Lebanon could one day become Lebanese citizens if and when a final peace settlement is concluded. "This is a reality we must face," says Issa Goraieb, editor of Beirut's French daily L'Orient-Le Jour. What would happen to whatever is left of Lebanon's sectarian balance with the addition of half a million Sunni Muslim Palestinians? The question has long been in the minds of the country's Christians.

Hariri won't be able to dine out forever on his deportee decision, and healing rifts at dinner parties won't heal the ruts in roads. It is estimated that 40 percent of the traffic in Beirut is out there only because there is no way to let your fingers do the walking. Only half of the country's 400,000 phone lines function. The public may soon start questioning the country's priorities, while Hariri and the rich still are discussing their first course.