Accustomed to War, Lebanese Seem Worn Out By Lack of It

By Marilyn Raschka

For many Lebanese, the Gulf war ended all too soon and all too wrong. The perfect scenario should have included a much better showing by Saddam Hussain. Called "le grand Aoun" by his Lebanese supporters, he was expected to hold out against the US-led coalition the way Gen. Michel Aoun did against Syria. Aoun was toppled 18 months after declaring war against Damascus.

An extended show of strength would then have led, in the Lebanese scenario, to an international peace conference that put the withdrawal of Syria from Lebanon on top of its agenda. But Gulf agendas and scenarios have paid little attention to Lebanon. And consequently the peace that prevails here is not of the quality that the Lebanese spent 15 years yearning for.

In fact, having grown accustomed to war, the Lebanese seem worn out by the lack of it. Whole weeks go by without incident. Teachers are exhausted by five straight school days in a row. Shops have resumed regular hours, causing clerks to complain of backaches after eight hours on their feet. And journalists yawn in boredom.

"Out-Newsed" by the Gulf

"Out-newsed" by the Gulf, otherwise important developments in Lebanon get only honorable mention in the press. Israeli gunships pummel Palestinian refugee camps and smash hideouts of resistance groups. Inter-Palestinian clashes suggest a challenge to Yasser Arafat. Powerful Druze leader Walid Jumblatt reverses his decision to leave politics by withdrawing his resignation from the cabinet. Few of these stories merited more than a paragraph in the US press.

One journalist complained, "The only stories I can get on the wire have some connection to the Gulf." His one "big" story—and he said that sarcastically—was about two groups who threw stones and tomatoes at each other; the burning issue was to support or not support Saddam Hussain.

Lebanese President Elias Hrawi toured four Gulf countries in June 1990, during which he submitted a list of projects for rebuilding the country at a cost of $5.25 billion. And that sum did not include the 310-square-mile Christian enclave that was, at the time, still a battleground for Gen. Michel Aoun's army troops and the "Lebanese Forces" militia under Samir Geagea.

Kuwait's pledge of $2 million toward these projects was viewed by the Lebanese not only as a drop in the Lebanese bucket, but also only a fraction of a drop drawn from the Kuwaiti well.

But with Kuwait's oil-producing facilities out of commission and the country in shambles, the Lebanese now realize that Lebanon's long road back to peace and prosperity will not be paved with Kuwaiti gold.

As for European interest in assisting in Lebanon's construction, the occasional French and Italian team of officials visit to assess the damage to Lebanon's war-shattered infrastructure. But doling out money is not as exciting as making it. Lebanon again finds itself playing second fiddle to Kuwait.

Far more depressing to the Lebanese is a signpost that reads: This Way to Peace, Prosperity and Damascus. Ironically, one of the first roads to be cleared of rubble, barricades and mines when Greater Beirut was declared in December was the Rue de Damas. The 66-mile route begins in old downtown Beirut and climbs and winds its way up the mountains and down again to the Syrian capital.

Equally clear of political mines is the road from Washington to Damascus. Accusations of involvement in terrorist activities, harboring Palestinian radicals and plenty of old-fashioned anti-American rhetoric were brushed under the red carpet that the US rolled out when Syria sided with the US coalition against Iraq.

Speculation about the Western hostages always a newsworthy story hit a dead end just days before the Gulf war broke out. Hezbollah leader Hussein Musawi told the press that there would be no revenge killing of the hostages. "The war will be too big to be affected by any such executions. America prepares thousands of coffins for its soldiers' corpses, so adding 10 or 15 more coffins for the hostages would be meaningless."

Out-classed in the news department, the Lebanese found that even competing in the casualty category was useless. The figure of 150,000 applies both to war deaths in Lebanon after 15-1/2 years and, according to NBC, to the number of Iraqi troops killed in only six weeks of conflict.

A visit these days to someone in the hospital only reaps a simple show-and-tell of a kidney stone—nowhere as exciting as the piece of shrapnel that surgeons used to turn over to their patients as exhibit A.

And the only joke of any value in town has a Gulf base. It tells of American soldiers in Saudi Arabia who flew in some pigs for a barbecue. When Saudi officials asked what kind of animal it was, the Americans answered, "Sheep wearing gas masks."

But the Gulf war ended. Next on CNN was live coverage of elated Kuwaitis returning home from Cairo, Europe and even Beirut. But the well-heeled refugees, paid handsome stipends throughout their ordeal by their government, have little in common with their Lebanese counterparts. At least 100,000 displaced Lebanese continue to live in abject misery in empty schools, unused Green Line hotels and war-damaged houses deserted by their owners.

The Lebanese listen as Iraq is ordered to pay war reparations and wonder why Israel and Syria were never held accountable for the destruction they have wrought.

Newspapers talk of allotting the spoils of war to American and European and Japanese firms, who will earn millions rebuilding Kuwait.

The Spoils of War

"Lebanon is now a province of Syria," said a despondent Lebanese who sees his country as part of the spoils of war awarded to Damascus. In firm military control of most of Lebanon since 1976, Syria moved center stage in the country's political arena with the formation of a pro-Syrian cabinet in December 1991 that complemented Syrian backed President Hrawi, elected in November 1989.

Economic ties were next on Damascus' list. In mid-February, the two neighbors announced the formation of a Lebanese-Syrian economic committee to explore what were called "new fields and horizons for boosting future economic coordination and cooperation between the sisterly Arab states."

This lofty language has a more basic side. One Lebanese businessman explained the Syrian interest in regulating economic cooperation. "Damascus wants to stop the extensive smuggling that goes on across our borders." He said his home appliance business sells huge quantities of imported goods to Syrians who "have their ways of getting contraband into Syria and onto the market."

But there is a long-term political rationale as well. If an international peace conference is convened, Israel might be forced to withdraw from Lebanon, thus undermining Syria's excuse for staying on. If Damascus can establish profitable economic ties with Lebanon, the loss of its military clout would be minimized.

And that's a scenario the Lebanese could live with.

Marilyn Raschka is an American faculty member at the American University of Beirut and an editor of the Americans for Justice in the Middle East newsletter.