Qifa Nabki | A Lebanese Political Blog

Several months ago, I found myself in a group discussion on Facebook about the Arab revolutions. Egypt and Tunisia had recently toppled their dictators, and the freedom train seemed poised to roll into Yemen, Libya, Syria, and beyond.

It escaped no one during this season of political transformation in the Middle East that Lebanon was a strange study in stability. Usually a magnet for civil unrest and ideological fervor, the country felt oddly insulated from the waves of popular dissent that threatened to fashion a new Arab political order in the space of a single year.

True, Beirut had witnessed the odd ragtag anti-sectarianism march, but no sign of the enormous public demonstrations seen in Benghazi or Cairo. This was evidence, so my Facebook interlocutors suggested, of Lebanon’s political immaturity, its parochialism and fractiousness, and perhaps even the artificiality of its claim to nationhood. While the people of Egypt and Tunisia had demonstrated remarkable unity and bravery by standing as one to break their shackles, the Lebanese remained hopelessly mired in a rut of sectarianism and petty divisiveness.

Something about this reading struck me as simple-minded. This is not to say that I subscribed to the chauvinist ‘been-there-done-that’ argument that one regularly encountered among many Lebanese (who gestured gallantly toward the events of March 2005 by way of explaining why Lebanon had no need to partake in any revolutionary activities in 2011).

Rather, what I found problematic about the discussion on Facebook was its assumption that Egypt and Tunisia had reached the finish line in their struggle for democracy and self-determination, when it seemed fairly straightforward that these two countries (like the rest of their regional compatriots, the Lebanese included) were still very much at the starting line.

There’s certainly no question that Lebanon’s politics are crippled by sectarian institutions and the false idol of consensual governance. However, sectarianism is surely not the only flavor of social divisiveness that can undermine democratic processes and institution building. Economic inequalities, ethnic and tribal divisions, religious fundamentalism, etc. represent other major challenges. As inspiring as the events of the last year have been, they hardly represent a litmus test for the viability of a national identity, much less a certificate of sovereignty and self-determination.

I was reminded of this discussion recently by an excellent article in The New York Review of Books, by Hussein Agha and Robert Malley. They argue that the Arab revolutions have been effectively overtaken by the Arab counterrevolution, the primary agents of which include entrenched economic elites, military leaders, former regime operatives, and foreign powers, all of whom are now seeking to shape events in their favor (and are largely succeeding).

The essay is worth a close read, but I thought I’d draw your attention to an excerpt that struck me as relevant to the question of Lebanon’s membership in the Arab Spring club.

“Revolutions devour their children. The spoils go to the resolute, the patient, who know what they are pursuing and how to achieve it. Revolutions almost invariably are short-lived affairs, bursts of energy that destroy much on their pathway, including the people and ideas that inspired them. So it is with the Arab uprising. It will bring about radical changes. It will empower new forces and marginalize others. But the young activists who first rush onto the streets tend to lose out in the skirmishes that follow. Members of the general public might be grateful for what they have done. They often admire them and hold them in high esteem. But they do not feel they are part of them. The usual condition of a revolutionary is to be tossed aside.

“The Arab world’s immediate future will very likely unfold in a complex tussle between the army, remnants of old regimes, and the Islamists, all of them with roots, resources, as well as the ability and willpower to shape events. Regional parties will have influence and international powers will not refrain from involvement. There are many possible outcomes—from restoration of the old order to military takeover, from unruly fragmentation and civil war to creeping Islamization. But the result that many outsiders had hoped for—a victory by the original protesters—is almost certainly foreclosed.“

I am very rarely optimistic about Lebanon’s short-term political prospects. We seem to go from one election to another pinning our hopes on the notion that the next crop of plutocrats will not be as feckless as the last. However, reading over Agha and Malley’s prognosis, I could not help but think that Lebanon’s problems seemed somehow more manageable than its neighbors’.

Consider the fact that of the three major players shaping the future of the post-Arab Spring states, only one (the members of the old political class) possesses any real political muscle in Lebanon. The army enjoys widespread  support but is not a major political and economic force, as it is in places like Egypt and Turkey, or in Iran, where the army controls entire industries and maintains its monopolies with the assistance of the state.

Lebanon has Islamists, but there is no mainstream movement calling for the creation of an Islamic state. A recent Pew Research poll found that only a small minority of Lebanese Muslims (second only to Turkey) were in favor of harsh punishments for adultery, theft, and apostasy.  Meanwhile, it is rare that one meets a Maronite today who believes their country should be a Christian homeland in political and spiritual communion with France.

Finally, even our politicians, as odious as they are, hardly constitute a unitary and hegemonic “regime”. For all of Lebanon’s problems — a weak central authority, political and economic corruption, clericalism, foreign influence, sectarian structures and mindsets, patronage networks, etc. — it remains a multi-polar arena, with all the “self-regulating” mechanisms that such a structure engenders.

Would I trade this brand of dysfunction for the challenges facing reformers in Egypt, Libya, or Syria? I don’t think I would. I’ll take entropy or centrifugality (or whatever physics-inspired euphemism one might use to put a positive spin on our chaotic system) over the deeply rooted political, military, and economic structures of a post-dictatorial regime.

Thoughts?

I recently read an interesting profile of ex-Minister of the Interior Ziad Baroud in Al-Akhbar English (which, by the way, you should all be reading on a daily basis). The last two paragraphs, in particular, caught my eye:

As part of his interest in electoral law, Baroud is in contact with Bahij Tabbara, a former Lebanese minister. Together they are preparing a proposal on proportional representation, an electoral system many believe would undermine the current sectarian structure governing Lebanon. Baroud says their proposal “is not about a political party, tendency, movement or coalition,” but simply a campaign calling for proportional representation and hoping to raise awareness about the issue. Baroud confirms that they have not gone into the project’s details, but he feels that Tabbara is an intelligent person who will help move the project forward.

Although Baroud hopes to see proportional representation implemented in Lebanon, he is pessimistic about its acceptance among Lebanon’s political elite. He predicts that the prevailing political groups will never agree to such electoral reforms, because their direct or indirect interest are heavily vested in the status quo.

Is this true? Baroud is right that many of the bigger parties have no interest in changing the existing majoritarian system, but I think that a few important players would be far better served by proportional representation (PR), while at least one major party is probably agnostic on the issue.

In particular, Prime Minister Mikati would stand a much better chance of increasing the size of his legislative bloc if majoritarianism were to be replaced by a proportional scheme for the 2013 elections. With Hariri’s political relevance being depleted by the day, in fact, all of Lebanon’s “independent” Sunni politicians (particularly Mikati and Safadi) would seem to have a good shot at making inroads into Mustaqbal’s share of Parliament under a PR system.

On the other hand, any party that anticipates winning its seats by a margin short of a landslide is probably going to be against PR. This applies not only to Hariri’s Future Movement but also to Aoun’s Free Patriotic Movement and the rest of the Christian parties. All of these groups (as I argued in an article from a couple years ago) won their seats in the 2009 elections by decent margins (in the 55%-65% range) but not by total landslides. This means that under a PR system, they would likely lose seats in those same districts to their opponents. (See also this post for more reading on electoral districting in Lebanon and PR).

Meanwhile, if Hizbullah’s support in 2013 is anything like it was in 2009, they would have very little to lose from a PR system. In fact, they might even gain seats under this scheme, by running resistance-friendly candidates against Hariri’s people in the districts that the latter won by a narrow margin.

(Note: the same could be said of Aoun. While losing seats in districts like Jbeil and Kisrawan, the FPM might pick up seats in Beirut and elsewhere, particularly given all the new political capital that has accrued to the party as a result of its visible successes in the areas of telecommunications and energy.)

In sum, I’m not particularly optimistic that PR will be implemented in time for 2013, but my lack of optimism has less to do with the fact of entrenched political interests as it does with political inertia. Still, it would be nice if it happened.

“Prime Minister Najib Miqati on Sunday confirmed remarks attributed to him by a WikiLeaks document about describing Hizbullah as a “tumor,” but stressed that his words were taken out of context and that he had described the Shiite party as a “non-malignant tumor.”  (Naharnet)

Here follows the transcript of Mr. Miqati’s televised address to the nation, in which he addressed the scandal arising from his comments.

*

My fellow Lebanese, good evening. I am addressing you tonight to clarify some comments attributed to me by a US official in a confidential diplomatic cable, which was recently released to the public by Wikileaks. I’m not going to deny what I said (unlike certain people who shall remain nameless!) but I would like a chance to explain myself.

In the cable, I was quoted as describing Hizbullah as a “tumor needing removal.” That sounds pretty bad, I admit. It’s not the kind of thing you should call someone behind their back, especially not a dear friend. And I’m really the nicest person in the world — ask anyone — so let me begin by apologizing to Hizbullah from the bottom of my heart.

Hizbullah, I’m sorry.

For what it’s worth, I didn’t mean you were a tumor tumor, like one of those “you’ve-got-six-months-to-live” tumors. I really did mean that you were a non-malignant tumor, and there’s a big difference between the two. You see, non-malignant tumors are totally not a big deal. I personally have no problem with them, whatsoever. They are absolutely fine in my book. Fact, some of my best friends are non-malignant tumors. Ha ha! I kid.

That’s really not very funny so I apologize. Again.

And hey, the same goes for a comment I made about Hizbullah being “a state within a non-state.” Once again… context! Context is key, people. Hizbullah is a state within a state… of mind. Do you see what I mean? It’s a state of mind, Hizbullah is, and one that I personally think is very, very healthy for Lebanon, which is itself a state of mind, except not quite as powerful as Hizbullah’s state of mind.

While I’m here, I’d like to apologize in advance for a few other untoward comments I may or may not have made in the past about some of my good friends and colleagues.

For example! I might have said something at one stage about Syria being a “client of Iran.”  Well, obviously what’s missing is the rest of the sentence. I recall saying “Syria is a client of Iran, and a very powerful and important and prestigious client that Iran is very proud to have.” Look at it this way. When I send one of my assistants to have my shoes shined by Abu Tariq, the local neighborhood shoe shine boy, I’m clearly acting as Abu Tariq’s client, right? But who’s more important, wealthy, and powerful? Me, or Abu Tariq? There’s no shame in being a client, nosiree. You get the idea.

Ok, what else? (shuffles some papers) Oh! It may be pointed out, for example, that I might have called General Michel Aoun “a joke and a laughingstock” on one occasion, and perhaps even a “crazy guy,” but I absolutely meant that in the best way, honest to God. If you’ve ever had a few drinks with the General, you’d know that the man is totally hilarious, just crazy. He’s crazy funny, and crazy smart, and just an all-around crazy awesome guy. Would have made a crazy good president. Too bad. Anyway.

Along similar lines, I may have referred to Saad Hariri at one point as “naive and easy to fool,” but it’s clear that what I really meant here was that Saad finds it “easy to fool others into thinking that he is naive.” Easily misunderstood. Saad Hariri is absolutely not naive and easy to fool. The man has a mind like a steel trap! He’s the total opposite of naive and easy to fool, and I’m sure he’ll agree with me.

I could go on, but I think I’ll just end here by saying that I really do feel awful about any offense taken to my comments. Just awful. Awful awful awful. Next time, I will try to be more discreet.

Good night.

On most days, Nabih Berri is pretty happy to be Nabih Berri. Sure, his political party is viewed as Hizbullah’s uncouth country cousin, and no, there isn’t really anyone in line to inherit the throne once the Estez adjourns his last parliamentary session. But for the time being, he’s Nabih Berri, and that’s pretty good.

These days, not so much. Many Lebanese politicians have gotten egg on their faces courtesy of Wikileaks, but the cables have made a veritable Quiche Lorraine out of Nabih’s mug. His conversations with US embassy personnel during the 2006 War are full of terribly embarrassing statements about Hizbullah. One day he claims that the resistance will no longer be needed if the Shebaa Farms are liberated; the next day, he promises to lead the Lebanese Army back to the South in lieu of Hizbullah; the following week he says that Israel has the right to defend itself when attacked.

Most scandalous of all was a comment to Ambassador Jeffrey Feltman in which Berri lauded Israel’s bombing campaign as a positive development that would help weaken Hizbullah, describing it as “like honey”:

“I like a little bit of honey, but if you eat the whole jar you get sick!” Berri exclaimed, and then threw his head back in riotous laughter.”

As if things couldn’t get any worse for the Speaker, our tireless cyber-sleuths at the Qnion have managed to get their hands on the transcript of yet another July War meeting between him and Feltman. We’re sure he’ll deny it, and we don’t blame him.

*

The scene: a formal living room at Nabih Berri’s residence in Ain al-Tineh.

Feltman: Mr. Speaker, thank you for seeing me on such short notice.

Berri: Ahlan wa-sahlan. Ahlan wa-sahlan. You are most welcome. Most welcome!

Feltman: I know that you must be extremely busy.

Berri: For Ambassador Jeffrey, I always have time. I am at your service. You know, there is an old Arabic proverb that says, “Don’t shed an eyelash for an enemy, but for a friend you must slaughter the sheep.”

Feltman: (has heard it a dozen times) How kind.

Berri: Welcome welcome to the American Ambassador. You know I lived in Detroit when I was a young man?

Feltman: (nodding wearily) Yes, I think you’ve mentioned that.

Berri: (reminiscing fondly) Ha hah…those were the days! The Motor City, Joe Louis, the Detroit Tigers…

Feltman: (stifling a yawn)… Pastrami.

Berri: Yes! Pastrami sandwiches! My God I miss those. You know, there is an old Arabic proverb that says: “Slaughter the sheep for a friend, but for your lover, serve a pastrami sandwich.”

Feltman: (puzzled) Really?

Berri: No. I’m just joking. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Feltman: (smiling weakly) Ha ha ha, yes… very droll.

Berri: Hah! I do love pastrami. And bagels! Oh my God, with cream cheese and lox? Divine. Did you know that I have a special shipment of bagels sent to me from Zabar’s in New York every month? Five dozen bagels. Every month.

Feltman: Oh my.

Berri: (suddenly seized by an idea) Would you like a bagel?

Feltman: No thank you.

Berri: Yes! Yes you must have a bagel. I just received a fresh shipment. (He whistles for an assistant) Abu Talal! Jeeb el-bagels 3as-saree3. Yalla t7arrak!

Feltman: Mr. Speaker.

Berri: So, Mr. Ambassador. What can I do for you?

Feltman: I thought we could discuss the latest developments in the conflict. Last time we met, you said that the bombing campaign was like a jar of honey. Is that still your assessment?

Berri: A jar of honey? No. Today I would say it is like a bowl of soup.

Feltman: Soup?

Berri: Yes. A hot soup that is getting hotter by the minute.  And in the middle of this soup is a big delicious matzo ball. It’s a slippery matzo ball, you know? One of those big ones that you can’t cut into with a spoon. You try, but it just spins around and around. And it is too big to swallow whole, so you have to find a way to shrink it. So you turn up the heat, hoping that it will dissolve, but it doesn’t. Do you follow me?

Feltman: No.

Berri: (continuing unawares) Now, Ambassador Jeffrey, I love matzo ball soup, but even I will not eat this soup if it gets much hotter. And what is the point of matzo ball soup if you can’t eat the matzo ball?

Feltman: Hmm.

Berri: You know, there is an old Arabic proverb that says: “If your matzo ball is too slippery to cut with a spoon, try a fork.”

Feltman: (baffled) Try a fork?

Berri: A fork!

Feltman: (suddenly getting it) Ohhh…

Berri: (arching a sly eyebrow) Right?

Feltman: (pleased with himself) But, Mr. Speaker, where might we find a fork big enough to… (looks at Berri knowingly) … skewer such a big, slippery matzo ball?

Berri: (smiling) The Shebaa Farms.

Feltman: Shebaa? Impossible! The Israelis will never go for it. And you’ve said it yourself: Shebaa is just a pretext! Shebaa is an excuse! Shebaa is nothing!

Berri: Ahh, but Mr Ambassador, Shebaa is both nothing and everything.

Feltman: You’ve lost me again.

Berri: Let me explain. (He holds up a bagel.) What is this?

Feltman: Pardon?

Berri: What is this? Is it a roll? Is it a piece of bread?

Feltman: It’s, umm… it’s a bagel?

Berri: Correct. And what makes it a bagel?

Feltman: (completely lost) I have no idea.

Berri: The hole! The hole makes it a bagel.

Feltman: Okay…

Berri: Now, what is the hole? Is it something or nothing?

Feltman: Is it something or nothing? Hmmm, well… I suppose it’s both something and nothing?

Berri: Precisely. The hole is both something and nothing. In fact, the hole is everything and nothing! The hole is the absence of something, but without that absence, the bagel is not a bagel.

Feltman: Fascinating.

Berri: (leaning forward and whispering) Hizbullah is the bagel.

Feltman: (whispers back) I thought Hizbullah was the matzo ball.

Berri: (ignoring him) Hizbullah is the bagel because of the hole that is Shebaa. Without the hole, Hizbullah ceases to be the bagel, and turns into a common piece of bread. Do you follow?

Feltman: (in a hypnotic trance) Hizbullah is the bagel…

Berri: (pleased) Exactly…

Feltman: …and without the hole, Hizbullah is no longer a bagel.

Berri: Precisely…

Feltman: I think I’m beginning to understand.

Berri: Good.

Feltman: (in a daze) Shebaa is the bagel hole… It is everything and nothing… Hizbullah is the matzo ball. The soup is getting hotter. The bagel is Hizbullah. Israel is the spoon. Shebaa is the fork…

Berri: (Taking a big bite of the bagel). Mmmm, delicious.

Apologies for the brief hiatus in blogging. I’ve just returned from a trip to Beirut, arriving just in time for the start of the academic semester here, so things are quite busy. I’ll try to do some catch-up over the next few days, but in the meantime, here’s a brief comment on a couple items from the latest Wikileaks cable dump.

Some of you will recall our discussion of Michel Aoun’s return to Lebanon in 2005, as recounted in Karim Pakradouni’s book Sadma wa-Sumud. Pakradouni claimed that Aoun cut a deal with the Syrians, whereby he could come back to Lebanon provided that he did not call for Emile Lahoud’s impeachment or the disarmament of Hizbullah. Naturally, Aoun has denied this story and Pakradouni later recanted it.

We may never know exactly what the terms of the agreement were, but two diplomatic cables from 2005 shed a little bit of light on Aoun’s transformation from a fire-breathing, Hizbullah-disarming, UNSCR 1559-championing anti-Syrian oppositionist to a fire-breathing, Hizbullah-championing, UNSCR 1559-decrying pro-Syrian power-broker.

On March 21 2005, one week after the landmark million-strong rally in downtown Beirut, Aoun met with the US Deputy Chief of Mission in Paris to offer some thoughts about the situation in Lebanon. Here’s the gist of what he had to say:

• I represent the true opposition to Syria in Lebanon. I helped bring about the Syria Accountability Act and I was the only Lebanese politician to publicly support UNSCR 1559. The current members of the opposition are still afraid of Syria after 30 years of “hostage mentality”. They need time to become fully liberated.
• Hizbullah needs to be disarmed. There are no grounds for maintaining its militia, and the pretext of Shebaa is ridiculous. However, the best way to disarm the party is through negotiation and soft power rather than full-on confrontation. If the US can give some guarantees that Hizbullah officials will not continue to be targeted by US courts, then Nasrallah may be willing to deal on military issues.
• Syria’s regime will fall after it withdraws from Lebanon. It will probably be replaced with a majority Sunni government, and this will dramatically impact Hizbullah’s power in Lebanon.

A month and a half later, Aoun met with the US Chargé d’affaires three days before his return to Lebanon. The content of their conversation was similar to the previous discussion with the DCM, but there were a few key differences:

• The current March 14 opposition has rebuffed my appeals to join them in an electoral alliance. They are trying to prevent me from returning to Lebanon, and so there’s no way for me to work with them. So unfair! I hate them!
• Hizbullah, on the other hand, is an honest and reasonable party and so I’ve decided to ally with it. BFF!
• I’ve come to an agreement with Lahoud allowing me to return to Lebanon (but I’m not going to divulge the details of that agreement).

We might conjecture, therefore, that the period between March 21 and May 4 2005 was critical to the post-Hariri-assassination history of Lebanon. Had the anti-Syrian opposition made room for Aoun, things might have developed in a very different way than they did.

On the other hand, we know that contacts between Aoun and the Syrians had begun long before these conversations even took place. Aoun sent an envoy to Damascus in January 2005 to discuss a Syrian withdrawal from Lebanon and the relations between the two countries. What seems most likely to me is that the Assad regime was looking for a way to bring Aoun back to Lebanon as an ally, in order to provide a counterweight to the political opposition that was coalescing in advance of the 2005 elections.

Rafiq al-Hariri knew all about Aoun’s maneuvers and probably guessed what the Syrians were up to, which was why he devoted so much time in his discussion with Walid al-Muallim attacking the “radical Christians” and pretending like he had nothing to do with 1559. If the Syrians did in fact take the decision to kill Hariri, it would have been because they had lost faith in their ability to control him, whereas Aoun, ironically, seemed like someone they could work with.

Anyway, food for thought…