TYRE — Greetings everyone. I’m in Tyre at the moment, about as close to the front line as you can get if you’re not an active fighter. The growl of Israeli jets overhead is constant, as is the whine of the surveillance drones. Every morning since I’ve been here, I’ve heard the thump-thump sound of the pamphlets being dropped by jets.
To the south, along the curve of the coast, Hezbollah is launching Katyushas, but I’m loathe to say too much about them. The Party of God has a copy of every journalist’s passport, and they’ve already hassled a number of us and threatened one.
Most villages across the south are now inaccessible because the Israelis have turned many of the roads around the cities into kill zones. “Two ambulances were hit Sunday night”:http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2006/07/25/MNGJCK4N0A1.DTL&hw=allbritton&sn=001&sc=1000. Last night, the Israelis hit the United Nations post at Khiam, site of an infamous prison run by Israel’s proxy army during its occupation, the Southern Lebanese Army.
With all that, I’d like to provide some links to recent stories I’ve done. My internet connection is very bad here, and I’m unable to get online much. My apologies. I’m also not able to get the larger story, as my access to the wires and what’s happening is limited. But here they are:
* “War with Israel helps bridge sectarian divide”:http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2006/07/23/MNG98K42651.DTL&hw=allbritton&sn=002&sc=420
* “Road to Nowhere”:http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1218556,00.html
* “Fleeing Bint Jbail”:http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1218838,00.html
* “Hezbollah Nation”:http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1218049,00.html
More later, inshallah. I am well, and Tyre would be beautiful under better conditions.
Category Archives: Lebanon
Trying To Get South
BEIRUT — Wow, this seems like old times for the blog, eh? Here I am trying to get a driver to take me south to Tyre and I’m thanking you all for your generosity in donations. I’m really, really grateful. This will help a lot, considering the Lebanese — who are a merchant people — have recognized the war as a gouging opportunity.
The Israelis have come in, but it’s unclear just how far in they are. Most reports say only a kilometer or two inside the border, but I’m trying to get more information via phone, etc. Frustrating to be up here in Beirut while this is happening. I hear they’re bombing Sidon now, but again it’s unclear how badly.
Yesterday I dashed into Sidon with some colleagues and we found some refugees who had just arrived from the south a couple of hours previously. I will be posting that shortly. And it won’t be appearing in any newspapers. Think of it as a value-add for your generosity.
OK. Going to try to find a drive crazy enough to drive south who won’t charge us $600 – 700. I hear they’re charging $400 *a day* down in Tyre. Man.
Bombs and Politics
BEIRUT — Why, oh, why do people with access to really big bombs continue to think they can change people’s loyalties by dropping those big bombs on their homes and families?
Israel’s strategy in Lebanon is pretty clear now: Make the pain of “supporting” or “harboring” Hezbollah so great that the Lebanese will deal with the group. That was also the idea behind the attack on Gaza and Hamas as well as the so-called Bush Doctrine — the U.S. will make no distinction between the terrorists and those who harbor them. It’s also the hot air for the trial balloon often floated in D.C. regarding regime change in Iran: Bomb the mullahs and watch the pro-American youth embrace the _Pax Americana_!
Except… it almost never works. I mean, George Bush was considered barely qualified to make coffee at the White House in August 2001. (Remember that?) And then, boom, 9/11 hit and he’s suddenly the best wartime leader since Churchill. Was there a rethinking of American policy on the part of the masses and a call for changing those policies? Or even, dare I say it, removing the Bush Administration from office because the consequences of having a nincompoop in office had grown too painful? Hell, no! Americans rallied around the flag and the leader. In fact, the only incident that I can think of that involved bombs leading to the victims blaming their leaders and punishing them was … Madrid.
So why do Washington and Tel Aviv think Arabs would react any different? (Maybe a bit of cultural chauvinism?) Did the Iraqis turn on Saddam Hussein through 13 years of sanctions? No. Did the Palestinians turn on Fatah after the start of the 2001 _intifada_? That’s a negative. The Gazans this year? Nope. Will the Lebanese turn on Hezbollah? Not likely, and certainly not in the short term.
Another reason the “bomb ‘em and they’ll love us” strategy won’t work here is that Hezbollah is not the PLO. An historical digression, if you’ll allow me: Israel invaded Lebanon in 1978 and 1982 in two attempts to dislodge the PLO from Lebanon, where it was using the country launch attacks on the Jewish state. The Palestinians had developed a state-within-a-state in the south, which was often called “Fatah-land.” (Sound familiar?) In 1983, Israel finally pushed the PLO out and Yasser Arafat and his followers fled to Tunisia. Still, the Lebanese war dragged on for another seven years as various militias — some supported by Israel, others by Syria and Iran — before finally ending in 1990 from exhaustion. Lebanon was shattered and Israel ended up occupying parts of the country for 22 years, spawning Hezbollah.
This is important. Hezbollah was not _started_ by the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. It was _organized_ by them out of the disparate Shi’ite groups that popped up to resist the Israeli occupation. Iran helped merge them together, but they’re a Lebanese creation.
This means Hezbollah is an indigenous group, not a foreign body like the PLO was. Saying that Lebanon “harbored” Hezbollah is like saying the United States “harbors” white supremacists or anti-government militias. You probably hate them and despise their goals, but you can’t they’re alien parasites on American society. Like Hezbollah in Lebanon, they’re an integral if extreme part of the political and social fabric. Ending of expelling Hezbollah is akin to amputation rather than lancing a boil.
I’ve been in love with Lebanon since 2004 when I took a flat here and began immersing myself in the place whenever I could take a break from Iraq. In March, I settled here for the foreseeable future. I have a wide variety of friends, not just upper-crust Christians, and while I’m not a polling company, I think I have a decent grasp of the zeitgeist here.
Before this damn war, Hezbollah was losing support. It wasn’t draining, but it was ebbing. The political process was stuttering along, but it was moving. Many people here hated Hezbollah… Many people also loved it. The society was split but there was a consensus the problem had to be settled judiciously and politically because no one wanted another civil war.
When the first Israeli bombs fell, some Shi’ites even blamed Hezbollah. I met a guy in the southern suburbs last Saturday, just four days after things started. He’s a Shi’ite from Nabatiyeh in the south and hated Hezbollah. He thought they’d screwed up big-time. These days, when I talk to him, he says he hopes Hezbollah rips the Israelis apart. Another friend of mine, one of those upper-crust Christians, told me last night that as much as he hates Hezbollah, he hates the Israelis even more now.
The Lebanese are closing ranks in the face of an external threat, just like people all over the world do — with the exception of Spain, I guess. They’re no different from anyone else, and the same thing happened in the initial days of Iraq. The same pattern would play out in Iran, too, if this war gets that far east. The West has no monopoly on unity, patriotism and nationalism.
That said, unity rarely lasts. In the case of America, it led to a polarized public where the public debate seems to involve screaming “traitor!” when someone votes for a Democrat for the school board.
In the Middle East, things rarely stay at that level. Once that unity breaks, we’re left with civil war. (See, Lebanon, 1975 – 1990 and Iraq, 2003-present.) And in civil wars, lots of people die and the situation that needed to be fixed is usually worse. (Does anyone think Iraq is a more stabilizing force than it was?)
Which is why it’s important to end these things before they start.
Lebanon Delenda Est?
BEIRUT — Yesterday I went on a media tour of Harat Hreik, one of the southern suburbs with Hossein Nabulsi, spokesman for Hezbollah. The devastation of that neighborhood is total. It’s gone. I’m posting a video I shot of Nabulsi as we stumbled through the rubble in a kind of roving press conference. Anyone know who was that guy was who kept pushing Nabulsi on Hezbollah “infiltrating” itself into civilian population?
Anyway, I’ll just let Nabulsi speak for himself in this video. And I screwed up and put “June 20″ on the video instead of “July 20.” I’m going to leave it because I would have to re-encode the whole video and upload it, which takes forever, and I’m short on time and bandwidth. I regret the screwup.
“A Flickr set”:http://www.flickr.com/photos/baghdadchris/sets/72157594206552541/ is available and I will be updating it as I go, so feel free to subscribe to its RSS feed. (By the way, can Windows users see this movie?)
Mountains of Tears
BEIRUT — Yesterday, after thinking I didn’t have enough of the Lebanese in these pieces, “I went up into the mountains to find the southern refugees.”:http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1217530,00.html
Lebanon has become two countries.
For a change of pace, and a desire to get away from the incessant worries over the Westerners’ evacuation plans (relax folks, you’ll get out), I went up into the hills above Beirut Thursday, into the Christian enclaves where small shrines to Mary mark the sharp switchbacks in the roads leading up into the cedar and pines.
It’s peaceful up here. Broummana is particularly picturesque, perched as it is on the side of steep hills that look down into valleys that then spill out into Beirut. During the 1975 – 90 Civil War, residents of the city would flee into these hill towns and watch the artillery duels between the various militias, between the Israelis and the PLO, between the PLO and the militias, between the Israelis and the militias… Well, you get the idea.
Stopping for lunch at an upscale Crepe-Away diner, I’m taken aback by the sheer normality of the scene. Young people hanging out and flirting? Check. Bad American pop music on the loudspeakers? Yeah, got that. Families playing peek-a-boo with their kids over menus? That, too. It was a typical Lebanese scene and one that would be instantly recognizable in, say, northern California. It was easy to forget that just a few miles down the mountain roads, people could suffer an Israeli air strike at any minute — in fact, if there had been any bombings, we would have had a great view.
But the war had reached Broummana; we just had to look for it.
We found it at the local public school. Shi’ite refugees from the south had taken shelter here, in the heart of this Christian community that splits its loyalties between Michel Aoun’s Free Patriotic Movement, which has a political alliance with Hizballah, and Samir Geagea’s Lebanese Forces, which are virulently anti-Hizballah and even anti-Muslim.
A few families fleeing the south arrived on Saturday, but numbers surged on Monday, said George Abisamra, an Aoun supporter who had volunteered to help out at the school. As of today, 400 people had taken shelter here, he said, and his party had taken it on themselves to organize care for them. “We have to help them,” he said, “They are Lebanese.“
In some cases, there’s only so much one can do. I met Abisamra while witnessing a tragic, but increasingly common, scene. An extended family of Shi’ites from Tyre in the south was seated on a semi-circle of white plastic chairs. The men wore grim expressions. They had just been told that Hussein Zikehammede, 40, and his father, Hajj Zikehammede, 70, had been killed in an Israeli missile strike yesterday on their way south to fetch Hussein’s wife and six children and bring them to safety. According to Hussein’s cousin, Majid Hammadi, the two men were about a mile from their house when an Israeli missile struck their car, killing both. When a rescue truck attempted to retrieve the bodies, Hammadi said, the Israelis struck again. Today, they say, after a day in the street, the bodies are still unclaimed because people are too scared to approach the destroyed cars. Neighbors who witnessed the attack had called Hammadi with the news about an hour before we arrived in Broummana.
Hammadi’s eyes brimmed with tears as he related the story. Then, he turned. Hussein’s sister was being told the news. She kneeled before an older man, who was speaking softly to her, his face drawn, his eyes tortured. She cried out, “Hussein! Hussein!” in a long, shrill lament. She held her head in her hands and began to pull at her hijab while screaming out her brother’s name. A young man tried to help Hussein’s sister to her feet, but she couldn’t bear to stand. Small children began to cry, and one little girl had a purple star sticker affixed to her forehead, a jarring symbol of childhood pasted over more grief than she should have to experience at such a tender age.
Hammadi pressed his thumb and fingers to his eyes and turned away, trying to push the tears back inside. But then he pulled himself together and turned to me. “We are with Hizballah, even if everybody dies,” he said. “God forbid.“
Then his eyes again filled with tears.