Muqawma, A Synonym for Coup De'ta?

I needed to let out some emotion; Most of my pieces are cut and dry travel logs/analysis/political articles, but I needed to release.

Another protest, because of what? Oh, they just sacked the Beirut Airport security head because he was spying for Hizbollah? ... There is something new, oh, and they are shutting down Hizbollah's communications systems, ok. It all looked like normal posturing and an interesting move by the government to undertake, Nasrallah will probably just launch into a tirade and set a few tires on fire. Only this time he did, but went further, much further.

The "conflict" between March 14th and the "Opposition" (aka the Christian FPM, Shia Muslim Amal and Hizbollah, with help from the SSNP and Marada) had been brewing for the past few months considering no president has been elected. March 14th has tried time and time again to push a "compromise candidate" such as General Suleiman, but to no avail. Hizbollah and her allies keep pushing for the power of veto (that sounds like something you would hear on the show Survivor; Hm...Survivor Beirut? Irony), however this would kill any president the majority would want to elect, not to mention essentially be a defacto veto coup for Hizbollah. So the elections never happened, March 14th couldn't muster the courage to elect a good person for the presidency, and Hizbollah kept up its militant attitude, launching a protest every now and then.

Fast forward to three days ago. Everything in my first paragraph happened. Hizbollah and Amal rioted, Shia speaker of parliament and head of the Amal party called for "talks" (that's opposition slang for we are going to burn things unless you do as we demand) and the road to Beirut International Airport was closed...It had happened before, no one in the foreign media really paid attention, I did, but I monitored events sporadically.

Then the fun started today. Nasrallah addressed his adoring masses and accused the government of "declaring war against the Lebanese resistance (aka Hizbollah)" through the government closure of the communications lines. In "celebration" Amal and Hizbollah broke out the RPGs, Kalashnikovs and M16s to "celebrate", only this time instead of firing into the air, they fired into Sunni neighborhoods in Beirut. They clashed with Saad Hariri's al Mustaqbal (the Furture Movement) militia. They fired their RPG's into buildings. Special Hizbollah forces made it as far as Rue Hamra, seizing a number of buildings. Amal is storming up the coastal axis towards the Rouche. The airport remains closed, and the Sunni-Shia version of April 13, 1976 is now upon Beirut.

Beirut is being seized, taken by Nasrallah, a prize for his friends who sit upon their Persian throwns. I think back to my time in Beirut, if I was there now, with what is going on, I would literally be in the heart of the battle. Tonight I had lunch with a Lebanese friend, I figured the Lebanese disturbances may have just been a larger version of what happened in Dec, 2006, those had fizzled out. I took the train home, happy and content to have had a great conversation with my new friend. I came home to look at the news: Hizbollah is running rampant in Beirut. The battle is where I was. I went to school for the summer at LAU, its environs are now filled with Mustaqbal, Amal and Hizbollah combatants.

The positions keep changing, the Rouche, Beirut's two huge stones that rise from the Mediterranean like spines off a stegosaurus now form the backdrop to Amal's putsch up the Corniche. On my third day in Beirut, my first walk that I engaged in alone was to the Rouche, it's also the day I learned people often would end their own existence by jumping from the rocks. On the famous, swanky Rue Hamra I would swing by Nandos restaurant with my friend Mohammed and walk to the Radio Shack up from the restaurant. The only fighting was between myself and Mohammed over who would take the check (a common Lebanese past time), now Hizbollah special forces control some buildings in the area. Last summer I had a mediocre meal of what seemed to be canned corn, once packaged French fries and some form of a frozen burger at Roadsters, it baffled me how Lebanese, so obsessed with their appearance and class image could be suckered in to spend $13 (American prices +) for so-so food. Now Roadsters has become a point of semi-demarcation between Hizbollah fighters and Mustaqbal defenders.

After fighting over differences in opinion (political arguments: another Lebanese past time [sometimes executed using firearms, other times minus them]) regarding Barack Obama. My friend, a Lebanese who worked in Hamra, she, a Christian, couldn't get to work. From her comments this morning I should have known Lebanon was in store for something else, I ignored it, I ignored the warnings I knew were there, war was on Lebanon's horizon. My friend, in this calm and sweet disposition she usually presents in any conversation, set a rain check for when we could have a meal at Nandos, I hope the place is still standing if I get to go back.

I am up at this ungodly hour because I am upset, I feel like my mind went through a deep frier, and I am not even in Beirut, I can't see the black smoke rising from these places that I had so many memories in...It still hurts though.

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So Long Beirut, Hope to See You Again!

I have really fallen in love with Beirut. The people are as sweet as sugar and as hospitable as can be. The politics are enthralling, interesting, all with a slice of danger. I truly love Beirut and love Lebanon, they will maintain a special place in my heart. The culture, is a mix between the ancient East and the worst parts of the West, nevertheless it makes for a great time, and an interesting study. Many bad things happened, but so did many good things. I met a wide range of people, some radicals, others mainstream, while others were apathetic to what went on around them.

Many Americans look at me as if I had 10 eyes when I say, "I love Beirut," to them Beirut is something out of a 1980s action film with crazed bomb makers running around decapitating Westerners. Of course, Lebanon does have a small minority of such people, but I have honestly felt safer here than anywhere I have ever lived.

Politics and violence aside, the architecture, natural wonders, religious heritage, and general melee that is Lebanon is something only the best story book writer could come up with. While "I love life" has become a popular political expression here in Lebanon, the people do truly LOVE life, it is evident in the food they eat, how they dance, the clothing they wear, the way they drive, and how they act.

A Jewish prayer that ends the Passover Seder dinner goes, "L’shana ha’ba-ah b’Yerushalayim." meaning "next year in Jerusalem." While I am not a Jew, I can relate to Jewish urning to visit a place they feel close to their roots. The place I feel close to is also in the Middle East, and oddly enough just north of Jerusalem, I have been thinking "next year in Beirut."


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Dictatorship, The Only Solution For Lebanon?

I was listening to a band play some oldies and munching on some tabouli when the discussion on how to "fix" Lebanon came about. After much debate the director of my LAU program, a woman who had lived through the Civil War, and has a doctorate from Georgetown say, "the only way to fix Lebanon is with a dictator. Get a dictator who stops the sectarianism, makes us a nation, and gets some order." While she was fervently anti-Syrian, she must have noticed how Syria had grand gardens, clean streets, working traffic lights. Laws were observed and there was a semblance and order about the place. This is all completely lacking in Lebanon. Lebanon looks like a tribal mishmash.

A village pledges allegiance to their feudal tribal lord and that's final. Most Lebanese still don't go outside of their sectarian boundaries. Many Lebanese Christians I've met still refuse to drive down to predominantly Muslim Hamra, in Beirut. Just to note, Hamra is no more than 10 to 15 minutes away from Achrafieh (the Christian area).

How can democracy even hope to thrive in a place where the people will really only vote for their feudal lord and/or their sons? Its less a Parliament and more of a Bedouin style gathering. Each family/sectarian group has its own "tent," ie the Druze tent would constitute portions of the Chouf, the Christians would have much of Jabal Libnan, the Shi'ites would have the Bekka and the the south, Sunnis would have portions of Beirut, Sidon and Tripoli. In the end they all gather and try to grab as much of the pie (Lebanon) as they can for the family and sectarian group.

And we expect democracy to win out and deliver Lebanon from Syrian domination? I think not.

Dictatorship offers:

• Stability
• Security
• A chance for a country to have a unified goal
• The possibility of secularism

However, Lebanon would need some sort of a benign dictator the likes of Lee Kuan Yew. I doubt we will see such "progressive" leadership out of Lebanon. A Lebanese leader would need to push Lebanon as the Middle East's leader for free-market reforms, be secular (no more sectarianism), clamp down on Islamists (that includes Fatah al Islam types and Hizbollah), build a strong Lebanese Army, shut down anti-Lebanon parties (this would include the likes of the SSNP, a group that wants Lebanon's union with Syria). All in all a successful leader would end up alienating a good 50% of the population, at the very least.

Lebanon has already been under a dictator's heel, one who let Lebanon retrogress. When Syria's Asad ruled Lebanon, it was like his own private fiefdom. The country's money was sucked dry and everything was as corrupt as could be. As such I have serious reservations about the decendents of Phonecian traders really being able to pull off a success story here in Lebanon through dictatorship. I just don't see the dynamism needed to pull off true reform.

When I am around my Lebanese friends, they usually talk about the need for federalism, and a strong central government. Normally I would be inclined to agree, but realistically it doesn't seem like a strong federal government will come about in this country. The people physically and mentally block eachother off, and the mentalities about outside groups (I'm talking about Christians thinking about Druze, Sunnis thinking about Shi'ites, that kind of thing) has remained unchanged since the 1800s.

What do you seek, my countrymen?

Do you desire that I build for You gorgeous palaces, decorated With words of empty meaning, or Temples roofed with dreams?

Or Do you command me to destroy what The liars and tyrants have built?

Shall I uproot with my fingers What the hypocrites and the wicked Have implanted? Speak your insane Wish!

What is it you would have me do, My countrymen? Shall I purr like The kitten to satisfy you, or roar Like the lion to please myself?

I Have sung for you, but you did not Dance; I have wept before you, but You did not cry.

Shall I sing and Weep at the same time? - Khalil Gibran, My Countrymen

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Long Road To The Bekka

The Beirut to Damascus highway is mired in history. As it name states it connects coastal Beirut to Damascus, and winds through multi-sectarian areas, Jabal Libnan (Mt. Lebanon), and the Bekka Valley. During the Lebanese War it was controlled by countless militias, bombed to submission, and rolled over by Syrian, Israeli, and Lebanese tanks.

We were passing Baabda, the home of Lebanon's pro-Syria president, Emile Lahoud. The Christian areas around Lahoud's compound obviously had no love for him, I couldn't find a single Lahoud poster in the area.

The bus started to gain altitude along the Beirut to Damascus highway, we left the Christian areas and headed into Druze territory. The Druze areas are nominally controlled by the PSP's (Progressive Socialist Party) Walid Jumblatt. This was apparent through a large number of Jumblatt posters and the trademark PSP symbol; a red background with a blue triangle, inside the triangle are a pick hammer and a staff. I didn't see many Druze (or Durssi as they are called in Lebanese) out as we passed through their villages, and in their areas the mood seemed quite relaxed.

The mountains were quite pretty, a golden brown and green color. Fruit trees lined the roads and cloud cover was heavy in a few areas, all in all it was a quiet ride. We finally made our way out of Jabal Libnan to a town just inside the Bekka Valley. The town was mixed, part Shi'ite Muslims part Christians (mostly Greek Orthodox). As a result there were few political posters up and the streets were empty. We stopped for lunch and I had a traditional Halloum (native white cheese, a bit like mozzarella) sandwich.

We continued to drive north through the Bekka. The flags along the road began to change to the distinctive green of Harakat Amal (the Amal Movement aka the Amal Party) and yellow of Hizbollah. The area was mostly Shi'ite, although there were many mixed towns. Posters of the smiling Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah looked upon traffic as we drove through villages and towns. Oddly enough we weren't on our way to see Hizbollah, but ironically to get to the world famous Ksara winery in the south-central Bekka Valley.

Ksara's premises stands out from the cinder block construction and power lines along the road. Leading up to the famous cave and winery complex there is a small terraced area for growing grapes. The bus pulled up to Ksara and we entered inside. Founded by Jesuit priests, the wine was originally used for religious purposes, and when the Vatican sold the property off in the 1970s a group of buyers came in and bought the vineyard and winery. The building was spottless, it probably hadn't seen tourists in 2 years. We were led into a damp, cool cave complex that housed barrels upon barrels of wine. Following the subterranean tour we were ushered up to a beautiful dinning room for a wine tasting. Ksara wine definitely isn't a Chateau La Mondotte Saint-Emilion 1996 (aka a $600 bottle of wine), but for $4 it was cheap, tasted good, and is great with tabouli.

Some Geography & Politics of the Bekka

To give you a better idea the Bekka is in Eastern Lebanon, opposite Syria. The valley is smack dab in between the "Eastern" and "Western" ranges of Mount Lebanon (in the West) and the anti-Lebanon Mountains (in the east). The area is known for its wineries, incredible produce, and almost complete control by Hizbollah. From the mountains the Bekka looks like a green swath cut through two huge chunks of dry earth.

There are two very important population centers in the Bekka. The first is Zahle. Zahle is the largest Catholic town in the Middle East, during the Lebanese War it gained fame amoungst Lebanese Christians for holding out against a Syrian seige. The second city is Baalbek. Baalbek is situated to the north of Zahle and is primarily a Shi'ite town with a small Orthodox Christian minority. Politically Zahle is a stronghold of the Christian Lebanese Forces, however, most of the Bekka, including Baalbek is a base for Hizbollah and Amal.

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*More Posts later on my trip to Baalbek, Bcharre, Batroun, and Douma

Downtown Silence & The Hariri Effect

A skinny black and white cat ran by, the only souls within a 100 yard radius were a security guard, a Lebanese Army soldier, and a group of about three gussied up girls waiting to enter White, a club on top of the An Nahar building. Beirut is officially dead. Its only Thursday, but there should have been hundreds of people lining the walkways of downtown.

I had originally gone to downtown to see a friend and look around the Virgin Mega Store. After my friend left I was about to take yet another poorly maintained 1980s Mercedes taxi back to LAU. It was getting dark, and I was tired. Nonetheless, my more adventurous side got the best of me, so I decided to wonder around the downtown, talk to people where I could, and just see the city at night.

I headed towards the famous statue to the Martyrs in Martyr's Square, no one was there, earlier I spotted a French tourist snapping pictures of the bullet holes in the statue, but that was it. I was the only one to go into the Rafik Hariri memorial, I was told by another friend that the memorial got a shipment of new flowers every single day. I had originally ruled this out as impossible, to replace sets of flowers like the ones in the Hariri memorial, it would take hours of labor and thousands of dollars a day. That was until I saw 7 flower arrangers putting together wreaths and other decorations made completely of red and/or white flowers.

The memorial was made to commemorate the assassinated former Prime Minister of Lebanon, but I noticed something a bit more interesting in the photos that lined the tombs and walls inside. The memorial really highlighted what a zaim is. Zaim (or plural Zuama) is Lebanese for a leader, but it has a broader and more political meaning, referring to feudalistic sectarian leaders. Hariri could easily be characterized as one of those leaders. His sectarian group were Sunni Muslims. The mountains of cash he made from lucrative construction deals and his party, The Future Movement were all his brainchildren. In some respects he was the modern equivalent of a Japanese Shogun.

The pictures looked a bit like something out of Socialist Realism. One picture or painting would show Hariri praying or meeting with a dignitary, another would show him as the builder of the great mosque that is downtown. One must also remember the memorial isn't supposed to just be about Hariri, it also had an area where his guards are entombed. In the US many leaders (if they were killed in such a horrific manner) who characterize themselves as populists would be buried right next to their slain guards, not in Lebanon, egalitarianism is not a concern. Hariri, in true zuama fashion is buried out in front with a huge tomb, his guards are entombed behind him. All of the guards have their pictures next to their graves, but in each of those photos there is a superimposed Hariri in a semi-heroic stance behind them.

Construction in the downtown is booming, all thanks to Hariri. As part of the rebuilding effort Hariri launched his Solidere company, a plan to largely reshape downtown Beirut, bring in high end shops, and clear away many of the shell ravaged buildings. I always imagined Beirut as an interesting dichotomy of Orthodox/Byzantine style Christian buildings and a number of Ottoman style mosques. The real Beirut is a mix of cranes, in some cases poorly built high rises, an odd war scared building or two, all obscuring historical Beirut. Roman ruins are dug up and left out, during the March 14th protests my friend told me that some people urinated into a Roman ruin opposite the Martyrs' Statue because there weren't enough (correction: any) bathrooms.

I walked to the famous clock tower, I counted about 25 people (not including the countless private security and Lebanese Army soldiers) and 6 cats in the whole area. Cafes were empty, many stores were closed. The smell of shisha (Arab water pipe) was in the air, and ice cream was slowly melting in the Haagan Das near the clock tower. Soldiers would gawk at me, I was probably the only American within 5 miles. I continued to walk through downtown towards the Phonecia Hotel, location of Hariri's assassination. I walked more, passing an Ottoman era mosque, 3 people were inside praying.

I could see the shell ravaged Holiday Inn Hotel. The hotel used to be one of the highest and most strategicly placed buildings in Beirut. It achieved a legendary status amoungst many Christians after a Phalangist militia man threw himself off the top floor of the building, so he wouldn't be captured by Palestinian gunmen. After passing the hotel and buying myself a diet coke I flagged down a cab, and was back at LAU.

My movie of Beirut as seen from Martyrs' Square:



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* I will try to post, but will be out in Northern Lebanon in Batroun, Bcharre, and Duma until Sunday, the 8th of July

Classes Begin

Let's start out with what I did yesterday.
My friend(s) (let's call them J, E, and A) took me to a wondeful little restaraunt\bar called Cafe d' Orient. The restaraunt was off of the main coastal road, the same road one would take to get from Rabieh to Gemayze or Hamra (note: I am in Hamra). I sampled a wonderful assortment of Arabic bread, tabouli, houmus, and smoked a lime/mint shisha.

Before the meal we went to the ABC shopping center in Achrafieh, the ABC had been bombed a few weeks ago, and, as a result security was quite strong. I picked up some grocceries, a beer, and some soap. I must have been the only American in the whole building and no matter where I walked (even with my Lebanese friends) I was stared at.

After the mall, J, E, and A took me back to J's apartment. While there we discussed politics, watched an LBC (Lebanese Broadcasting Channel) presentation on Chiek Pierre Gemayel. It was a very wonderful night.

Today my classes began, I attended my upper elementary Arabic and my Lebanese dialect class, can you say, "Shufi Mafi?" Classes were quite good albiet the power went out a few times (not great when the weather is like a Florida August).

I also had lunch with J's sister across from AUB. The food was somewhat American although it has much Lebanese influence. We had an interesting discussion about publishing in the Lebanese world.


Parts of Beirut I've been wondering around are denoted by a red box:

Dinner & Arak With Friends

Yesterday was my first full day in Lebanon. I slept about 3 hours in total, but had many adventures and met many interesting people. My first adventure was going outside of the LAU campus to get some coffee, water, sodas and some other assorted junk food. Afterwards a fellow student and myself took a stroll down to the Raouché (Pigeon Rocks). They are a spectacular formation of stone jutting out of the Mediterreanean, the water surrounding them is a mixture of teal, green, light blue, and a medium shade of blue I can only describe as "Azure Mediterreanean."

The stroll down to the Raouché was quite an interesting one. The school I am attending is in the heart of Quoritem, the bastion of Rafiq Hariri and his Future Movement (a March 14th associated political party and heavily anti-Syrian). As such, there is heavy security by both the army and police. On almost every major intersection one can find an M113 Armored Personel Carrier with a .50 caliber machine gun mounted atop its metal hull. To get to the Raouché you have to pass the Saudi embassy, which is a massive building loaded with private security and a battalion of soldiers outside. Because I am a free wheeling American I decided I would take some pictures of the APCs dotting the streets---BAD idea. I got yelled at repeadedly by the soldiers, although it seems if I just play the "dumb American" card I won't get my camera smashed.

Also, during the day, I stopped and found some nice little coffee shops, and had some of the best iced coffee in a place across from the school. Around 11 in the morning I gave a close Lebanese friend a call. She invited me over to her home for a dinner complete with the Lebanese specialty drink known as Arak (also spelled 3arak--the 3 is an ain in Arabic) . Arak is made of anise and is quite sweet, almost like drinking an incredibly sweet tequila without so much alchoholic bite.

After speaking with my friend she informed me that her boyfriend (who was playing soccer at the time) was going to pick me up around 9:30PM. As 9:30 passed I called her up again and she told me he would be there to pick me up around 10PM. I had little to do, so I sat in the guard house and talked with the guards. The guards told me that rent (per month) was around $700 a month, they earned around $1.30 an hour and they couldn't get over the fact that America had a minimum wage around $5.75-$7.00. I tried out my rudimentary Arabic/Lebanese with the guards and they seemed to get a kick out of it, teaching me a few new words and pronounciation. As 10 o'clock rolled around my friend's boyfriend pulled up with another person I am friendly with and we headed off to Rabieh.

Rabieh and Christian Beirut (and its suburbs) seem a lot more organized and clean as compared to the Muslim sections. Of course both Muslim and Christian Beirut have much alore, but that difference definately sets them apart. On the drive down to Rabieh we passed downtown Beirut. I was told that ever since Hizbollah started protesting the current government they were subsidizing poor Shia (giving them $3 a day) to squat in Martyr's Square. There is a joke that is going around (some of it is true according to photos I've seen) that these Hizbollah members brought their shishas (water pipes) and TVs with them---Now Martyr's Square is their new home. I was also told that to get down to Martyr's Square (which stradles the old Green Line seperating Christian and Muslim Beirut) one must go through, not one of the numerous Lebanese Army checkpoints, but a Hizbollah checkpoint. Yes, Hizbollah has people who "guard" their encampment in downtown Beirut, and they (not the government) allow people in and out.

As we entered Rabieh we pulled up to a nice looking apartment building. My friend had a beautiful home with a wonderful family. Politics was the talk of the night, and of course I felt as if I had center stage (its not everyday some random American walks through your door and wants to talk about inter-Christian/Sunni-Shi'ite politics). I had a wonderful meal prepared for me complete with native bread, salad, arak, and pleasantly spiced chicken just to name a few things served. After the meal we all sat down and watched the television, my friend's sister had an international phone so I gave my mother a quick call. I must say after a great dinner there are few things more amusing than to have Seinfeld with Arabic subtitles.

For some time I had been talking about trying to get as much political paraphenalia out of Lebanon as possible. My friend went through a huge poster collection and gave me a Lebanese flag, a Kataeb party flag (Kataeb is also known as the Phalange party, and are right wing, anti-Syrian). As I was driven home my hosts took me to the Bachir Gemayel memorial in Achrafieh. Bachir Gemayel, a hero to many Lebanese Christians, was the son of Kataeb founder Pierre Gemayel, founder and leader of the Lebanese Front and later Lebanese Forces, and was president elect of Lebanon in 1982 before an SSNP bomb killed him. I visited the very place he was murdered that night. Formerly it was an unspectacular apartment building, after the explosion flattened that building, it became a square with concrete floors, trees, and a memorial to Gemayel and those killed in the building. The square was mostly quiet, save for a few young men who jokingly wanted to cheer for George W. Bush because I was in the area. Large posters and a massive metal carving of Bachir Gemayel's figure adorned the building adjacent to the memorial and it reminded me of a modern day shrine. In Lebanon it seems that the whole city is one massive shrine to opposing/allied political leaders who were supported by their confessional group. Eventhough I have been here a day, you can tell what sectarian section of town you are in by the posters that are stuck to the walls: Rafiq Hariri for Sunni sections, Walid Jumblatt for the Druze, numerous Hizbollah "martyr posters" and pictures of Hassan Nasrallah for Shi'ite sections, and Bachir Gemayel and the recently assassinated Pierre Amin Gemayel for Christian areas.

All in all it was a very spectacular day/night filled with adventure and great conversation.