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Since I am now comfortably situated in Beirut again with an apartment and semi-reliable ethernet access, I am going to attempt my hand at this blogging endeavor again. Writing has never come easy for me, so my goals are humble; I will simply be aiming for a minimal lucidity and clearness in my posts, and maybe an occasional original and illuminating analysis of what’s going on in this often confusing and contradictory area of the world. My interests have also veered significantly towards development issues in the Middle East, so I will try to work out my jumbled ideas on this topic while also leaving room to rant about Arabic, Farsi, Lebanon, the Levant, U.S. foreign policy, Islam, terrorism, Iranian machinations, Persian carpets, Central Asia, and whatever else strikes my fancy. Who knows, its even possible the winds of change might arrive from distant America to blow across these barrenly autocratic (or in Lebanon, anarchic) lands.

Poor Akkar

I don’t plan to follow slavishly current Lebanese politics on this blog, especially since the outcomes are often endless reformulations of “no victor, no vanquished” before another round of political escalation or outbreak of fighting occurs. However, I have been doing a bit of reading on Akkar of late, especially as it has gained interest from development NGO organizations as a type of “new South” in terms of poverty and social marginalization from the rest of Lebanese society.

The story of Akkar, a governorate located in the far north of Lebanon, is one told by many of the peripheral areas of Lebanon, where development and public infrastructure investment was historically limited to Beirut and its surrounding environs with few funds reaching the South, the Bekaa, Baalbek-Hermel region, or Akkar. However, while the Shia, first under the leadership of Musa al-Sadr, and later Hezbollah, politically awakened and benefited from Hezbollah’s well-organized and generously Iranian-funded social services (along with increased Western aid in the form of UNIFIL projects and other NGOs), the Sunni-dominated Akkar region never sprouted their own self-help services, and governmental neglect continues to this day.

This article makes clear there are individual donors and a smattering of NGOs in Akkar, but these efforts are often directly connected to the endemic patron-client politics of Lebanon and nonetheless are too haphazard and limited to attack the poverty of the region in any structural way. Sadly, while there has been a recent flood of studies flowing from the UN and other aid organizations (see this recent one from the NGO Mada for example), the current political situation makes it unlikely the government will be undertaking massive efforts to build and expand public infrastructure, improve the dismal schooling conditions, and establish micro-lending programs to fisherman and farmers who were in some cases devastated by the back-to-back 2006 July War and the more damaging Nahr Al-Bard conflict in the summer of 2007.

For the amount of money involved, it seems short-sighted that the American government doesn’t step into the breach and put more thought into heavy investments in these types of areas. Where else could they invest in an area that would gladly welcome the aid, greatly assist in shoring up support from perhaps the only pro-American Sunni Arab population (and just barely so), and further foreign-policy goals by helping the pro-American ruling Lebanese government in winning over a politically contested region that was until recently pro-Syrian. Al-Jazeera just this morning showed a segment on the strength of salafist parties in Tripoli, and it is exactly these groups that will balloon in size through funding from Saudi Arabia and the international-crazies financial networks, just as they have emerged in the poverty-stricken and socially isolated Ain al-Helweh camp in Saida (documented by Bernard Rougier in a first-rate, recent sociological work). Of course, since the U.S. government’s development arm is represented at present only by the limited means of U.S. Aid (whose projects are limited to isolated sewage treatment facilities in the Shouf and selling olive oil from the South), I’m not exactly holding my breath, and neither should the residents of Akkar.

There is a lot of conflicting reporting being generated from the fighting that took place over the past several days in Choueifat (a mixed area in Beirut) and the Shouf mountains. According to this jumbled and poorly sourced LA Times article, Hezbollah fighters have already captured strategic Druze areas in Niha and Aley, although it is difficult to ascertain whether the reporter is conflating the Lebanese army taking over these areas with Hezbollah gaining control of them. The reporter also quotes anonymous “analysts” stating the motivation for these Hezbollah attacks is “consolidating strategic gains that…would be used in confrontations with Israel”, since it is well-known to military observers in the region that Aley overlooks several important Israeli military installations, including the various Starbucks scattered across Beirut. However, other sources have pointed to Druze victories against Hezbollah military incursions (see here and here). Smoke sparked by any civil conflict tends to obscure facts and a precise accounting of events in the near-term (especially in such a polarized media environment like Lebanon), but it is worth emphasizing what has been noted by most reporting: the almost mystical Druze solidarity when their community is under threat. Sectarian dynamics in Lebanon cause all confessional groups to close ranks under crisis, but the tiny Druze population (maybe 5-6% of a country of nearly four million) is renowned for rallying under centralized leadership (in this case Walid Junblatt) and defending their ancestral territory. As a British traveler in Lebanon noted in 1833, “although the Druze army did not exceed 2,500 men, due to their resolute action each man is worth twenty.” In fact, during sectarian conflicts, the Druze have decimated their historical Maronite rivals twice, once in 1860 amidst the peasant uprisings of the time and again during the Mountain War of 1983 between the Maronite Lebanese Forces and the Druze Progressive Socialist Party (PSP) militias. This communal cohesion is also the reason the Druze were the only sect not to become factionalized during the Civil War. In these most recent clashes with Hezbollah, similar phenomenons of mass mobilization of the male population in towns have also been reported. And while Hezbollah has one of the most impressive para-military organizations in the Arab world, fighting the Druze in their Shouf base is a choice they make at their own peril.

Ahmad Fatfat, a March 14th minister, was being interviewed on al-Arabiya and paraphrased the famous line describing the PLO in Lebanon during the Civil War:حزب الله يعتبر ان طريق تل أبيب يمر من بيروت : “Hezbollah thinks the road to Tel Aviv passes through Beirut”. According to LBC, there’s currently SSNP militia around Clemencau (forgive the spelling, since I don’t speak French and am transliterating from Arabic), and West Beirut, including the commercial Hamra district is generally under control of Hezbollah and Amal gunmen. Since the al-Mustaqbal newspapers offices and satellite station was burned to the ground, most of the March 14th members (I’m watching a Junblatt interview now at his house in Clemencau) are on LBC and al-Arabiya, and are calling for an emergency meeting of the March 14th politicians and describing the events as an Iranian occupation of West Beirut. LBC is reporting that 11 people have died so far.

However, at least today is much quieter than yesterday. Interestingly, RPGs sound to my untrained ear like thunder, and I could have sworn it was raining late last night since there were also lightning-like flashes (I don’t have a good view of the city since I’m not on an upper-level floor). The Druze, Christian, and Sunni leaders on TV all seem to be on the same page politically, while on al-Manar (the Hezbollah channel) they were only showing old resistance music videos; However, NBN (literally, the Nabih Berri network, the leader of Amal), was showing “victory” footage of the burned al-Mustaqbal offices.

I’ll try to keep updating as the events unfold, especially since I’m stuck indoors.

In the final violent spasms of the Lebanese crisis of 1958, the Christian Kata’ib party, outraged over the “rebellious” actions of the pan-Arab Lebanese oppositon and the kidnapping of a Kata’ib newspaper editor, decided to add a new trick to their political playbook. As Samir Khalaf notes in Civil and Uncivil Violence in Lebanon, that “given the strategic location of their suburbs and villages around the capital”, they could “actually sever Beirut and the government from the rest of the country.” And so they did, denying the entry of a variety of merchandise into Beirut, not to mention a couple of hapless government ministers.

In a country as small as Lebanon, de facto veto power of political parties or sects often mirrors military advantages. Who has better interior lines? Who controls strategic overlooks of Beirut? Who can cut off the roads to the airport? In this last case, on a day where smoldering tires cancelled my classes, it always surprised me a bit that March 14th has never threatened to simply build a new airport outside Jbeil (or wherever there is a confluence of useable airport space and land under their control). Unlike last year’s “Let’s Drag Lebanon into Chaos” Day, the Metn was extremely quiet this go-around (possibly a sign of Michel Aoun’s decreasing popularity), and represents an area accessible to those in the North, Beirut, and the Shouf. While it wouldn’t change the underlying problem of Hezbollah’s repeated attempts to overthrows of a state, it would take a valuable card out of their hands.

To build an international airport is a costly and timely affair, especially for a country in debt as deep as Lebanon. But still, it’s not like Hariri and the Saudis are starving; the Great Satan could even chip in, and who knows, maybe even trust it to manage some direct flights to the U.S.

Update: This is what happens when you don’t do proper research before you write. Not only is the northern Lebanon airport I thought was bombed out of existence during the Civil War is still around, a Mustaqbal MP had the same idea a day earlier.

One thing in Lebanon that continues to interest me is the way in which sectarian identity pops up in the most unlikely of places. I went to the Ferry Corsten rave at BIEL (Beirut Exhibition and Leisure Center) last Friday, and was unsurprised to see quite a few folks sporting tattoos, including a number of Christian crosses. However, what did strike me as unique was the multiple times I spotted Druze stars on people’s backs (with the mixture of cramped quarters, brutally repetitive “music”, and liberal consumption of Ectasy seemingly encouraging people to take off their shirts). While the Druze have historically asserted their sectarian identity visibly through their traditional dress, it is likely the long black pants and white cap in this instance might be burdensome to a young Durzi trying to optimize his rave experience. But seriously, the Druze star is something that I have been noticing in Syria more often as well, seeing more taxi and service drivers sticking large stars on their rear windows on the route from Jaramana to Bab Tuma. 

That is not to imply there are no Sunni or Shia Muslims partaking in Lebanese nightlife; on the contrary, indulging in the bacchanalian excess of the Beirut party scene is a passion shared by all sects (if highly limited by social class, since the entry costs are prohibitive for a majority of the country’s residents). However, it is true that traditional symbols of Sunni or Shia sectarian identity in Lebanon are not able to be applied in this context (although seeing chadors and salafist beards on Fashion TV’s unending “Beirut Nightlife” Sky Bar clips would be amusing to no end), and hence their sectarian identity is not as pronounced to the same degree as Christians wearing gold crosses, or seemingly, hip Muwahhidun brandishing Druze star tattoos.