Qifa Nabki | A Lebanese Political Blog

Most people I speak to these days about the upcoming elections are, understandably, not that interested in the niceties of cabinet formation, the constitutionality of minority vetoes, or the viability of consensual politics in the post-Syrian era. Rather, what most people want to know is: “What’s the worst that could happen after June 7?”… or, alternatively: “What’s the ideal outcome, after June 7?” Here’s a tentative response to those questions.

The Good…

If March 8 wins, the best scenario it could hope for would be one in which all the March 14 parties agree to participate in a national unity government with a minority veto. A consensus PM would be chosen, and an atmosphere of national reconciliation would prevail. The scenes of MPs embracing each other and agreeing to put past grievances behind them would inspire investor confidence in Lebanon and Saad Hariri would hop on his jet and make a quick tour of Western and Gulf Arab capitals, assuring them that everything in Lebanon was fine, and that nobody should panic about the changing of the guard or about Hizbullah’s weapons. A few months down the road, Hariri himself would sign a Memorandum of Understanding with Hizbullah and Solidere shares would go through the roof.

If March 14 wins, on the other hand, the best it could hope for would be to form a cabinet in which it holds over two thirds of the seats OR a cabinet in which President Suleiman holds the balance through a few loyal ministers, without facing a Hizbullah-Amal boycott. Rather, the opposition parties would happily join the cabinet with no blocking powers, agreeing to settle the thorny issue of the resistance through national dialogue talks, which have worked so brilliantly in the past. In the course of these talks, Hizbullah would agree to disarm of its own accord (because M14 “asked nicely”), donating its guns to another worthy resistance somewhere in the world.

The Bad…

If March 8 wins, the worst that could happen would be a boycott of its cabinet by all of the March 14 parties (with the likely exception of Walid Jumblatt), and a concomitant loss of foreign aid, loan guarantees, and Gulfi tourists. Iran would quickly jump in with an offer to supply the Lebanese army with weapons and training, which would lead Israel to make the case — accepted by the world — that Lebanese officialdom was now an extension of the Iranian Revolution. A couple of months later, a Lebanese shepherd firing his ancient rifle at an Israeli wolf on the border would trigger a massive ground, sea, and air invasion (not countered by a single retaliatory strike from Syria or Iran), and Lebanon would be flattened.

If March 14 wins, its doomsday scenario would be the aforementioned boycott of its cabinet by the FPM and the Shiite parties, and a return to the sit-in days of 2007-08. The coalition splinters as the West grows tired with the Cedar Revolution, and an ignominious settlement reached in Doha (or worse yet, Damascus) returns the country to yet another round of parliamentary elections. This time, March 14 loses in a landslide. Syria offers to send in its troops to stabilize Lebanon from another round of failure and impotence at the highest levels of government, and the West happily agrees. Hail the Third Republic!

The Likely…

As for what is likely to happen, I may as well just quote the most common response of the vast majority of people whom I’ve asked this question — including politicians, journalists, soldiers, taxi drivers, political consultants, and pollsters: “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

Let’s have a look at the question of cabinet formation, post-June 7. When all the votes are counted and a victor is declared, the choice of a prime minister and the composition of the cabinet will be the next items on the agenda (after the fistfights and neighborhood gloat-bys, of course.)

I met recently with Ghassan Moukheiber, an opposition MP in the Change & Reform Bloc. He seemed optimistic that the distribution of seats in the next cabinet would be executed on a pro rata basis, i.e. that ministerial portfolios would be allocated based on the proportion of seats won by each party in parliament. Of course, this depends on who wins. March 14, as we know, has not promised to grant the opposition even a basic blocking third, let alone a pro rata share. And while March 8 has promised to form a power-sharing government (with a veto-wielding cabinet minority), they could do that to the tune of a blocking third rather than full-fledged pro rata representation.

Why does this matter, one way or the other? A veto is a veto, right? Not really. Over burgers at DT, Moukheiber also suggested that “on issue politics, we may see a reshuffling of majorities and minorities after the election. On financial and economic issues, for example, Change & Reform is more in line with the Future Movement than with Jumblatt and Hizbullah. On structural and confessional issues, we are probably more in line with the Lebanese Forces.”

In this context, the question of balance within the cabinet becomes important, and may make a difference on legislative fights where one or both coalitions are divided on a specific issue. Let’s say, for example, that the opposition wins the election, 68-60. With 53% of the parliament, they would then be entitled to 16 spots in a 30-member cabinet (if pro rata representation is used), and not the 19 they would command in a one-third-plus-one formula. Those three extra seats that would go to M14 parties could make a difference in helping to build opposition to legislation on a case by case basis (or, theoretically, even a supermajority, for issues of major “national significance”).

Does this make sense? Someone tell me if I’m completely wrong here.

Conspiracy Chronicles series, no. 5

There are plenty of worthy analyses out there of the German soap opera known as Der Spiegelgate. This is all I have to contribute.

There’s an interesting debate about Hizbullah’s weapons going on in the comment section of the last post so I thought I’d alert those of you who don’t spend much time in the trenches. The debate kicked off when I asked the following question:

“Let’s say March 14 wins the election. Personally, I feel that this is a less than likely possibility, but let’s say it happens. M14 wins, and it wins on the following basis:

1. An electoral law that the opposition proposed in Doha and that no can accuse of marginalizing this or that community;
2. No Quadripartite Alliance like in 2005;
3. No vague national dialogue agreements;
4. A March 14 campaign that is absolutely clear about how it feels regarding Hizbullah’s weapons;

Under these conditions, if more Lebanese vote for March 14 than vote for March 8, would you say that the resulting government would be justified in pressuring Hizbullah to disarm? If not, why not?“

There have been several interesting responses thus far. MM replies with a resounding “YES”. Mo answers in the affirmative, provided that M14 wins at least 65% of the popular vote. Joe M takes a more circumspect position, arguing that there are many factors to consider such as “the ability of the country to defend itself without Hizbullah’s weapons, and whether the weapons instigate Israel to attack Lebanon, and whether the people believe in Hizbullah’s goals to liberate Palestine.” RedLeb says that while M14′s fears are legitimate because of the size of their public support, the state “would have to provide credible alternatives to the resistance as it disarms it. It cannot simply declare the arms illegal and throw everyone in jail. There is no mandate large enough to legitimise an unfair process.”

J of Chalcedon and Majid correctly identify the underlying issues. It makes little sense to speak of popular will as long as it is reflected through the cracked prism of Lebanon’s political system. So I’d like to follow J’s suggestion for a debate along these lines. Here’s how he lays it out:

Let’s do a vox pop, QN willing. Whoever wants to submits 100 words on what the outcome of the vote means for the big questions: what does electoral will mean for consociaotional govt, and what to do with Hizbollah’s weapons in light of the first? But no more than 100 words. Make your case tight; no citations. QN, if he’s willing, can pick from the results, summarize and opine.

This is a debate that needs to happen on a national level. It should happen because — for the first time in decades — it can. It is easy to be cynical about all the posters you see on the highway with slogans like “The Second Independence”, “The Third Republic”, and “Kulluna li-ayy Watan?” but in an odd way, they gesture toward an important reality that we have already become jaded about: The Lebanese are finally in a position to confront certain existential issues about self-governance. We should start doing so.

The floor is yours.

So. Who else wants to try debating `Uqab Saqr on live television? No one? I thought not. Unless the opposition is willing to dig a lot deeper, I don’t think March 14th’s James Carville is going to see much action for a while.

Of all the political operatives on the Lebanese talk show circuit, Saqr gets my vote for being the most dynamic rhetorician of all. Whether or not one agrees with his positions, can anyone dispute that his delivery is impeccable? The command of the language, the proverbs that come tripping off the tongue, the ability to pick apart arguments without missing a beat…  all of this would be impressive in a political insider twice his age. As is, one can only imagine what Saqr’s skills will be like in another ten or fifteen years.

That is, if he’s still alive. Two nights ago, Saqr did battle with MP Hassan Yaaqoub on Marcel Ghanem’s talk show Kalam al-Nas, and Yaaqoub (according to Saqr) made several threats after the show, including one on his opponent’s life. Both men are running for the Shiite seat in Zahle; Yaaqoub is on the opposition’s list headed by Elias Skaff, while Saqr is with March 14th. If you’re at all interested in battleground districts (or if you get a thrill out of watching grown men hurl insults at each other for an hour on primetime TV), I recommend you watch the entire episode (it’s in eight parts on YouTube).

For those who’d rather just catch the highlight reel, here are some memorable clips:

1. `Uqab whips out Karim Pakradouni’s book (yes, he actually brought it with him to the show) in order to prove that Aoun made a deal with the Syrians before coming back to Lebanon. Saqr plays the role of the aggrieved former disciple to a tee; he’s fond of reminding people that he was a strong supporter of Aoun prior to his alliance with Syria.

2. `Uqab addresses the opposition’s argument about how the events of May 7th were a good thing because they led to the Doha Accord. Using that logic, he claims, one would have to conclude that the Lebanese Civil War was a good thing because it led to the Ta’if Accord. “They say that they prevented fitna. Why, what is fitna besides killing, and blood, and occupation? Fitna to prevent fitna, wow!”

3. Lots of shouting and hand waving in part 3.

4. The pièce de resistance: after Yaaqoub mockingly corrects the improper quotation of a Qur’anic verse (Q 49:6) by political opponent Nicholas Fattoush, Saqr swoops in to correct Yaacoub’s recitation as well (substituting the word an for the erroneous kay). For philology geeks like me, pedantic quibbling along these lines is more dramatic than televised cage fighting. (Catch the interchange from 6:00-7:15).

A friend recently drew my attention to a fascinating and rather addictive website called Vote Match For Lebanon, designed by Nahar al-Shabab. The site takes the form of an online survey meant to help people figure out which Lebanese party best suits their political positions.

The survey contains twenty-six statements and you have the option of agreeing or disagreeing (either partially or completely) with each one. You can also rate the importance of the issue raised, or pass on it altogether.

After you finish the survey, the website produces a list of Lebanese parties, ranking them according to the degree to which your answers match their political platforms. The “match” is expressed as a percentage.

The statements range from predictable litmus tests of party loyalty like the status of Hizbullah’s weapons and the future of relations with Syria, to questions about different policy issues (e.g. electoral reform, women’s rights, a national curriculum for public schools, etc.)

Here’s a quick paraphrase of the first ten items for those who don’t read Arabic:

1. The president’s powers of forming a government and dissolving the Chamber of Deputies — as they existed prior to the Ta’if Accord — should be restored;
2. A Senate should be established, along with a National Commission to Abolish Political Sectarianism as a first step towards secularizing the state;
3. The reason why administrative decentralization has not been pursued is because of the fear that it will lead to federalism;
4. There is no point in continuing the national dialogue talks because they haven’t led to anything productive;
5. Turning Hizbullah’s weapons into a permanent reality threatens the building of the state;
6. We should get rid of Palestinian weapons in Lebanon;
7. The future opposition should have a blocking veto in the cabinet;
8. Syria and its allies want to impede the progress of the Tribunal by any means necessary;
9. The division of the security services threatens the security situation in the country;
10. The borders between Lebanon and Syria should be drawn despite the continued occupation of territory by Israel…
11. Etc…

**

I bet you’re all wondering how I did, right? Well I’m going to tell you anyway. The first several times I completed the survey, the website seemed to crash while processing my answers. I kid you not. The system just couldn’t handle the eccentricity of old QN, could it? (That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.)

By the time I managed to get the blasted thing to work (gearing my responses to a less imaginative and more rudely partisan sensibility, ho ho ho) I was given a 68% match with the Democratic Left Movement.

“Thank God,” I thought, breathing a sigh of relief. “At least it’s one of the cooler fringe parties that can afford to remain principled because it has no power whatsoever.”

And then my heart sank.

Second on the list was the Future Movement, immediately followed by Amal and the Communist Party. Directly below them was a three-way tie between the FPM, the Kata’eb, and Jumblatt’s PSP.

And so it went. It seems that I am a 50%+ match with twenty-seven different parties, including the Lebanese Forces and Hizbullah (tied at 56%), Suleiman Frangieh’s Marada (60%) and the Nasserists (55%). One thing I apparently am not, is a Green Party supporter (11%), which is strange because I’m the only person I know in Beirut who has a kitchen full of empty plastic bottles awaiting the next trip to the recycling depot. I must be one of those phony environmentalist types… I hate those guys.

Anyway, if you haven’t yet decided on your candidates, go check out the website and then come back here and report. (You’re sure to be more confused than you were before you discovered it.)

Two nights ago, Sayyid Hasan Nasrallah gave a speech in which he, for reasons I can’t quite comprehend, re-opened the file on the events of May 7th 2008. It seems that the Future Movement’s latest round of campaign billboards — which feature slogans like “We won’t forget,” “They won’t return,” and “We won’t leave  you,” which reference the May 7 takeover of West Beirut — managed to touch a nerve with Nasrallah, and he felt the need to respond.

Nasrallah’s reading of the events is one that most opposition partisans will typically present: March 14th was doing the bidding of the United States, Israel, and the Arab puppet regimes by attempting to disable a crucial component of Hizbullah’s military apparatus; as soon as they crossed this “red line”, they were given two days to reverse their decision, which they ignored; Hizbullah then struck with surgical precision, shutting down the city and neutralizing all the pro-government militias that had been preparing for a battle envisioned to last weeks and which would eventually lead to the intervention of foreign armies to “keep the peace”; when this plan was foiled (with minimal casualties), the country was forced back to the dialogue table and a peaceful solution was  reached in Doha.

Therefore, concluded Nasrallah, “May 7th was a glorious day” for the Resistance. Predictably, there are many who disagree, and interestingly, they are not all on March 14th’s side. Former PM Salim al-Hoss, a strong supporter of Hizbullah, criticized Nasrallah’s remarks yesterday, and the Free Patriotic Movement has not moved in any overt way to back up their ally. My own experience speaking to various pro-opposition types here in Beirut confirms the uneasiness with which Nasrallah’s words were received. The feeling is that he overstepped.

Not that it really matters, this close to the election. It seems that the desire to win is so strong on both sides that it overrides any petty intra-coalition grievances. At some point, however, one wonders whether the FPM and Hizbullah are going to lock horns on resistance issues.

I had a conversation recently with a relative of mine, “Samir”, who is a strong supporter of both the FPM and the Hizb. I think his feelings are representative of how many opposition voters (particularly within the FPM) think about the future of the resistance and Lebanon’s role within the Arab-Israeli struggle. I reproduce as much of it as I can remember, below:

"We won't forget, as long as the sky is blue." (h/t beirutntsc.blogspot.com)

Samir: What the March 14th Christians do not understand is that the FPM is able to have a more productive dialogue with Hizbullah based on respect. It is easier to have an effect on someone when they respect you.

QN: What kind of effect?

Samir: I mean, let’s take a superficial example. I, as a Christian, have no problem going on al-Manar and being interviewed by a Muslim woman wearing a headscarf. I respect her customs. But why is it a problem for a Hizbullah leader like Naim Qassem to be interviewed by a Christian woman if she is not wearing a headscarf? Shouldn’t he respect her customs? Do you see what I mean? This is not an important issue, but the basic point is that a Lebanese Forces MP can’t have a sensitive dialogue with Hizbullah because there is no trust between the two sides. But the FPM can, because we are allies.

QN: Is there anything that the FPM can’t talk about with Hizbullah?

Samir: Like what?

QN: Like the Resistance. Take, for example, the business about Hizbullah cells operating in Egypt.

Samir: I’m totally against that. It was a major mistake for them to get involved in Egypt. Not that I’m defending Mubarak — I can’t stand him — but he was right when he said that Hizbullah has no business operating secretly in Egypt.

QN: Do you think Nasrallah made a mistake by admitting it?

Lebanese Forces mock FPM "selling out" its principles (h/t Ouwet Front)

Samir: They shouldn’t have been involved at all, in my opinion. I don’t understand why Lebanon — which is the smallest country in its region — has to pay the largest price in the struggle with Israel. We have paid enough already. For now, I want to go back to the hudna and in the long run I want a peace deal. I want to support the Palestinians in the camps here, to improve their living conditions and give them their rights, and to send money to Palestine. That’s what I can do. But to go and fight and bring another disaster down upon our heads… no, I’m against it.

QN: So the Resistance is, in your opinion…

Samir: … a national defense. That’s what Hizbullah is saying and I trust them. If they start to reveal something else, then I’m against it.

As we saw recently in the flap about Jezzine, it does not take much for the old battle lines to become visible. I don’t know how many people feel the same way as my cousin Samir, but I’m sure he is not part of a tiny minority in the FPM. M14′s Christian leadership, however, has proven to be so hamfisted in its attempts to exploit this ambivalence that it will probably end up costing them the election.

Conspiracy Chronicles series, no. 5

We are frequently told that these elections are the most expensive, per capita, in the history of the universe. Recently, I asked an opposition MP running for re-election how much he was spending on billboards and TV appearances.

“Well, I just can’t afford to spend the kind of money that others are spending,” he said wistfully. “I’ve got one big picture of myself on the side of a building, and that cost me a lot. The unipoles [large billboards on the side of the highway] are especially expensive, anywhere between $6000-9000 each, for the campaign season.”

Where’s all of this money coming from? In the case of March 14th, there’s an assumption among Lebanese that Saudi Arabia is footing the bill. What about for the FPM?

“Well, candidates are expected to finance their own campaigns, but also to make a contribution to the overall bloc. Of course, not everyone can pay the same amount,” the MP continued.

So how does the FPM pick up the slack? For enlightenment on these matters, I turned to my friend Hussein, who keeps a close eye on opposition relations.

“So what do you think, Hussein? Who’s funding the FPM campaign? Wealthy candidates? Rich Lebanese abroad? Qatar? Dubai? Iran?”

Hussein flashed one of his signature smirks. “Who’s funding it? Please… Obviously the Hizb is funding it.”

“Hizbullah is paying for the FPM campaign?”

“Of course. Do you think the FPM has that kind of money?”

“Ok… but how is that different from saying that Iran is funding it?”

Hussein gave me a weary look. “Iran does not fund Hizbullah. Whoever told you such a silly thing?”

“Umm… It doesn’t?”

“No. Iran, as a state, does not give us any money at all.”

“So where does your money come from?”

“The khums, of course.” (Hussein is referring to the one-fifth share of the spoils of war and other income, a kind of tithe whose payment is deemed a religious duty within both Sunni and Shiite doctrine).

“Ahh yes, the khums, how could I forget?”

“We don’t get our money from Iran, but rather from the worldwide Shiite community.”

“Ok, but it still is more or else channeled through Iran, right?”

“Not through the state. It’s channeled through the office of the highest religious authority (marja`).”

“Which one?”

“Ayatollah Khamenei of course.”

“Ok, so let me get this straight. You are saying that the FPM campaign is not being funded by Iran.”

“Of course not. That would be preposterous.”

“Fair enough. So it’s actually being funded by the tithes collected from the worldwide Shiite umma via the intermediaries of Grand Ayatollah Khamenei and Hizbullah?”

“Naturally.”

“Alrighty then.”

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“Seems like kind of a stretch.”

Hussein smiled, patted me on the shoulder, and walked away.

View from a ’72 Benz C250 series, no. 6

I went out for dinner last night with some family visiting from out of town and a few friends. We piled into a service taxi heading down Hamra Street and gave the cabbie the address. As the old Benz lurched its way down towards the sea, my mother (who has more charisma in her little finger than I do in my whole body, and from whom I inherited my penchant for chatting with chauffeuriyyeh) took it upon herself to show me how it was done.

Cabbie: Tourist? American? English? French?

Umm Elias: What tourists? Lebanese, habibi.

Cabbie: Ah, pardon me. I thought I heard you speaking English with the others, that’s why I assumed…

Umm Elias: No, no. We’re Lebanese. From the Bekaa.

Cabbie: (perking up) Me too. Welcome, welcome…

Umm Elias: The Bekaa. Living on kishk and awarma.

Cabbie: Ahhh… now you’re talking. Is there anything more delicious than a plate of eggs and awarma, or kishk and sizzling ground beef? Where are you from in the Bekaa?

Umm Elias: Deir al-Ahmar.

Cabbie: I’m from Nabi Osman! We’re neighbors!

Umm Elias: Uh huh. (The first and last time my mom stepped foot in Deir al-Ahmar was probably 30 years ago, but she can fake local know-how with the best of them).

Cabbie: Let’s see… the Kayrouz family is from Deir al-Ahmar, right? And Rahme, Haddad…

Umm Elias: Uh huh. So tell me, what’s your cash crop in Nabi Osman?

Cabbie: Apples. What’s yours?

Umm Elias: Hashish.

Cabbie: Yeah, I know (laughing).

Umm Elias: Why? You got a problem with that?

Cabbie: No, no… We grow hashish too. But not like you folks in Deir al-Ahmar. You’re serious growers.

Umm Elias: Better believe it. We’re drug dealers.

Cabbie: Yes ma’am.

Umm Elias: Macho men. Tough guys.

Cabbie: Umm, ok.

Umm Elias: The macho men of the Bekaa, know what I mean? The real deal.

Cabbie. Uh huh… So do you vote in Deir al-Ahmar?

Umm Elias: I’m not going to vote for anyone.

Cabbie: Me neither. They’re all liars.

Umm Elias: All of them.

Cabbie: Well, not all. Sayyed Nasrallah is honest, may God keep him. And General Aoun too. I love the General.

Umm Elias: And Berri?

Cabbie: No. I don’t like him.

Umm Elias: I don’t like anyone.

Cabbie: Look, here’s how I see it. Why not try the General for four years? If he’s bad, then we’ll throw him out, right? This is democracy. It can’t hurt to try him.

Umm Elias: Sure, why not…

Cabbie: I mean, don’t get me wrong. Everyone is a sheep in this country. Some people — pardon my language — if Saniora pissed in a bowl, they would call it champagne. And for other people, even if Israel came and destroyed all of Lebanon, they would still claim it as a victory for the resistance. I’m not a sheep. But I think we should try the General. Why not?

Umm Elias: Why not…

Cabbie: Where are we going again, by the way?

Umm Elias: What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know your way around?

Cabbie: I’m sorry, madame. We were talking and I got distracted.

Umm Elias: We were talking? You were talking. Take the next right.

Cabbie: Yes madame…

Umm Elias: “We were talking,” he says… Unbelievable.

We’re less than four weeks away from the elections, and al-Akhbar has done us a service by aggregating the predictions of four prominent Lebanese pollsters: Jawad Adra, Abdo Saad, Rabih al-Hibr, and Kamal Feghali. Here’s a summary of the article.

All four experts agree that the following districts are sewn up. For the majority: Akkar, Miniyyeh/Diniyyeh, Bsharreh, Shouf, Aley (4/5 seats), Beirut III, Beirut II (2/2 seats). For the opposition: Aley (1/5 seats), Beirut II (2/2 seats), Baalbek, Jezzine, Marjeyoun, Bint Jbeil, Nabatiyeh, Sour, al-Zahrani, Jbeil.

In total, therefore, the majority has 36 guaranteed seats while the opposition has 37 guaranteed seats.

There are four districts that are almost sewn up: Tripoli, Zgharta, Baabda, and Kisrawan. Factoring these seats with their margins of error into the above totals yields the following “virtually guaranteed” minimum ranges:

Majority =42-44; opposition = 48-51.

The experts are divided on the remaining seven districts (Koura, Metn, Beirut I, Saida, Batroun, West Bekaa, and Zahle). Those of you who are interested in the nitty gritty of electoral calculations and get off on pretending to be John King (like I do) should read the article. Those of you who have a life can just read my calculation below, which is the sum of the guaranteed base figures and the high/low predictions for each of the swing districts.

Majority best case scenario: 71 seats; worst case scenario: 48

Opposition best case scenario: 80 seats; worst case scenario: 57

As you can see, the opposition’s over/under is nine points better than the majority’s, which may be why many people are predicting a slim win for Aoun-Hizbullah-Berri.

Back to you, Wolf…