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DECEMBER 1999, pages 24-25 Letter From Lebanon
War, Peace, Israeli Withdrawal and Repatriation of Palestinian Refugees: Voices From the South
“Our main hope for the future is to have peace, and not to see Israel as an enemy but as a neighbor who respects our rights and our property,” said Tawfiq Ala-alDin of Madjal Selm, a frontline village that often falls victim to shells of the Israel Defense Forces and the IDF-directed South Lebanon Army. Peace. Everyone in southern Lebanon wants it, though there is little agreement as to what “peace” with Israel would mean concretely. Like Ala-alDin, most residents living in the confrontation zone strongly support the notion. The question gets difficult when the details must be defined. Definitions range from a comprehensive settlement and normalization of relations with Israel to the simple withdrawal of the IDF to the international border and a cessation of hostilities. “When there’s peace it will be made between the governments, but not the people. I can’t even imagine Israelis coming here and I wouldn’t dream of going there,” says Mahmoud Aldor of Madjal Zoun.
Distrust of Israel’s intentions runs high everywhere. “The Israelis don’t want peace. Israel will only leave Lebanon because of the resistance,” says Abdel Karim Beddami. “It’s like Nasser said, ‘what has been taken by force must be returned by force.’ Why is the one who wants to ‘make peace’ asking the USA for 50 new, modern planes?” Like many of his neighbors, Beddami is a farmer. He has five hectares of land and must support a family of 11. His fields have often been set on fire by tracer bullets. He’s grown used to the shelling that accompanies the harvest. And his family has land inside the Israeli-occuppied area that can be neither planted nor harvested. “I think if the American people knew what is going on here they wouldn’t accept it. It is their money and weapons that are killing our kids,” Beddami continues. “The Americans can put pressure on Israel to leave and they will leave. Look at Yugoslavia. Look at the Gulf. Why did America help there but not here? When America tries to stop countries from aggression, they have to stop it everywhere—not just in one or two places. “There must be equality. It is very hard to have hope here. If the Israelis really leave everything will be OK. Peace? It’s simple—all sides should stop the fighting and the Israelis should leave Lebanon.”
“I hope Israel will leave but I don’t believe it,” says Hassan Farran, of Ain e Bal, a suburb of Tyre (Soor in Arabic). “I don’t think we will be living in peace anytime soon. Sometimes people get used to bad things—unfortunately the bombing and shelling has become very familiar to us.” Farran’s views are typical of many in the south. They have gotten used to living with the war, and are in no hurry to make a “peace” that is less than total Israeli withdrawal. They believe that the resistance is “winning,” pushing Israel out, so there is no need for Lebanon to make concessions. On the contrary, Farran believes that any “peace” should be part of a larger settlement that includes resolving the question of Palestinians in refugee camps inside Lebanon, as well as regional economic issues. “There must be economic and financial solutions parallel to the peace,” said Farran, referring to the effects the war and occupation have had on the economy. “We have an external debt of several billions, but we have no way to earn this money. In the past our economy was based on tourism and transport, but we’ve lost this due to the war.” Farran and members of his family have studied in the U.S., and are well versed in the complexities of the international political realm. “What happened to the Palestinians concerns us, and I think peace must be with conditions,” he explains. “We have the right to live in peace on our land. We have been pretty hard hit by Israel and it’s hard to forgive. There are things you can’t forget and, after Qana, it will take a long time.”
The Qana massacre site is just a short drive from Farran’s home. A memorial on the site of the tragedy is the first stop for dignitaries and even tour groups visiting southern Lebanon. Fatmeh Balhas of El Botm survived the attack, but lost her husband and all four of her children. Speaking with an anger fueled by the pain of her unfathomable loss, she says, “Peace? What for? Now after all they have done to us, what good is peace? We will not accept their peace. Maybe if we’d had peace before, but now we are already living in hell. I saw my baby beheaded. [Her child’s head was severed by shrapnel from the Israeli shelling of Lebanese who had sought refuge in the U.N. compound at Qana]. God forbid the Israelis come here—even in peace. They cannot imagine what would happen to them after what they did to our children.” Fatmeh’s father, Adel Balhas, is angry, too. In total he has lost 42 family members to the conflict, including seven at Qana. Still, through the wisdom of age, he says calmly, “God created all of us equal. God created all of us with rights. All we want is security so we can live normally. I don’t wish any harm to the Israeli children, because I am sure Israelis love their children as we love ours, but they should let us live in peace.”
Within families there are sometimes lively debates when it comes to discussion of the details of peace. Mira teaches at a private elementary school near Qana. Her brother, Hassan, is a baker, and his wife, Aliyah, teaches at a government school. They each have very different opinions on the subject. Aliyah doesn’t believe there will be peace anytime soon. She says emphatically, “The Israelis only understand force. They will only leave Lebanon thanks to the resistance. No one believes their words. Nothing has changed with Barak.” Hassan is more optimistic. He thinks that there may be a peace settlement. He says pragmatically, “The most important thing is that Israel leaves. We are ready to work hand-in-hand with the government. If there is a negotiated settlement we will go along with the peace agreement rules made by the government. The south will be in a good position if there is peace. This place could become an important crossroads once again. Imagine a highway linking the whole region...” Hassan’s sister Mira, who lost a number of her students in the Qana massacre, vehemently disagrees with her brother. She says, “The Israelis will have to face all the mothers who lost their children. Whether we accept the peace depends on how the agreement is made. There can be ‘peace’—meaning stop the fighting—but not ‘normalization’ of relations. Until the Palestinians can go home to Haifa and Akkar, there can be no normalization of relations with Israel.”
Haj Ibrahim Said is 110, according to his family. He has lived in the same village of southern Lebanon his whole life—throughout multiple wars and occupations. He recalls the Turks, and then the French. “The Israelis are new,” he says simply. “There is no future as long as they are here, but the Turks left and the French left and one day Israel will leave too, and we will still be here. I only hope that I will be alive to see that day.” JoMarie Fecci is a free-lance photojournalist based in the New York City area. |
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