Anecdotes from a Banana Republic

War heroism: Opium for the masses

2009-01-05T11:41:00.003+02:00

The Israeli press' reporting on events in Gaza (abetted by the ban on foreign journalists, the destruction of electricity and telecommunications networks in Gaza, and the Israelis' own cowardly press corps) has reached new heights of hilarity:

According to this article in the Jerusalem Post, a lone Golani soldier foiled his own kidnapping, chased a half-dozen Hamas fighters down a tunnel, engaged them successfully in a fierce gun-battle, only to regroup with his comrades a few minutes later.

What they forgot to mention was that he was balancing a banana cream pie on his head and was wearing strapless stiletto heels.

And that is what we call "re-establishing deterrence."

Mourning period math

2008-08-14T09:40:00.003+03:00

Yesterday morning, 14 people were killed and a further 35 wounded in a bus bombing in downtown Tripoli. In response, Prime Minister Saniora called for "one hour" of mourning today. What happened to the three-day mourning period for every two-bit politician?

In case you harbored any doubts about the heart-felt priorities of the national power-hording clique, one "elite martyr" receives (1 x 14 x 24h x 3 days = ) 1,008 times the mourning period of your average, hapless, public-transportation-dependent citizen.

Your government on the web

2008-08-12T15:25:00.003+03:00

If you've never had the pleasure of perusing the Lebanese Internal Security Force's website, I highly recommend the English version. Not only will they advise you on some common sense means of "limiting snatching of handbags", such as keeping "your bag hung around your neck" (with a priceless photo of a woman in a short-skirt struggling to wrench her purse from the clutches of a thieving motorcyclist), but you can also learn about the history of the ISF.

Here's a highlight (emphasis in bold is mine):

"Emir Fakhreddine II is the founder of the modern Lebanese State. After a perturbed childhood, he acceded in 1589 and started working for the unification of the country, by destroying some independent objecting Lebanese families. In order to keep order and execute the usual police missions, the Emir created a group of armed men, “Zelems”, i.e. direct servants. There were also other little groups of “Zelems” for feudal lords. when internal disorders used to threaten the security of the country, the Emir did not hesitate to ask for the help of his professional elements “The Sikmans”, who were foreign mercenaries. Nevertheless, he avoided the participation of “Bedouins”, known to be thieves and murderers."

Nothing like a "perturbed childhood" to prepare you for the founding of a modern state. When in doubt, "destroy" objecting families and exclude those murderous, thieving Bedouins from your police force.

The rather self-deprecating forward by ISF Chief Ashraf Rifi is also well worth a read, which begins: "Lebanon has always been the heaven of security and peace and the oasis of the East, in spite of the tragic circumstances he endured." (Note the final, "Good Willing" [sic].)

What struck me as odd, however, is the "Health Guidance" section, which offered three points of advice (with accompanying power point presentations): "25 Reasons Why You Should Start Drinking Green Tea Now", "Honey & Cinnamon" and "Brisk Walking."

In case you want to learn more about some of the less well-known lawmakers in Lebanon's new cabinet, you can also consult their public profiles on Facebook:

According to his Facebook profile, the new Minister of Justice, Ibrahim Najjar, is "conservative" and "married" but was recently hugged by an anonymous admirer.

Dr. Antoine Karam, Minister of Environment, only has 9 friends.

Gebran Bassil's profile is closed to the public but a group called, "Gebran Bassil is gay... I swear!! :D" boasts 96 members.

Cops, fireworks & summer savings

2008-08-12T10:00:00.005+03:00

Hezbollah's TV station, Al-Manar, has been running ads for a restaurant called K-33 on the Airport Road. For 33 days, between July 12th and August 14th, customers can dine and smoke narghileh for 33% off, to commemorate the anniversary of the July War.

This is perhaps the least volatile period I’ve witnessed in Lebanon; to deal with the unbearable calm, people everywhere set off fireworks all day long. Even the Armenian Patriarchy next to my house sporadically fires volleys of deafening fireworks from the top of their majestic compound. “What is it now?” I wrack my head for possible holidays and commemorations that might justify breaching the peace after midnight on Sunday. “Oh it’s this Saint’s day,” or, “Oh, its Mika—that half-Lebanese pop sensation. He’s playing in downtown. He has an eight-octave voice.” Occasionally, fireworks mix with gunfire; this usually signals a wedding or – to justify a whole day of nerve-wracking explosions—the publishing of the baccalaureate results.

But the wounds have not yet healed from the last 18-months of internecine strife. I spotted a few cars in Hamra with photos of the “Two Ziads” plastered on their rearview windows—the 12-year old boy and 25-year old man who were kidnapped and murdered last year in a vendetta killing, both “active members of pro-government parties” according to the pro-government propaganda outlet, Now Lebanon. In Caracas, a poster spanning the full-width of the street, displays a photo of a teenager who was kidnapped during the May events. In the picture, he is wearing a T-shirt with “Still Virgin” emblazoned across it in big block letters. I have seen this T-shirt slogan before—but I couldn’t figure out if the slogan was later photo-shopped across his chest or if the family decided this was a most fitting image to remember their son.

In the meantime, most people are buckling down to enjoy the summer at beach resorts along Lebanon’s polluted coast. An Italian scientist I met alleges that many hospitals dump their waste, untreated and un-incinerated, in urban areas. That perhaps explains the sheer volume of hypodermic syringes strewn across the sand at Beirut’s Ramlet el Baida beach, which is sandwiched between two sewage pipes. “If Beirut was on fire, I wouldn’t jump into that water,” F. says. And while forest fires are a regular occurrence during the hot summer months, Saad Hariri, Lebanon’s own Saudi billionaire, can be counted on to pitch in and rent fire-extinguishing helicopters from Cyprus.

In the meantime, the Internal Security Forces have new toys, courtesy of the American embassy and MTV's Pimp My Ride.

It’s only a matter of time before someone starts sniping at their lights—which they have on at all times. “This isn’t an American soap opera,” I yelled at one patrol vehicle, which was creeping along at a snail’s pace down Gemmayze street, blinding lights and wailing sirens in full regalia.

Not that the security forces have anything better to do these days. L.S. was reminiscing the other day about an old policeman who used to regulate traffic at the Bechara al Khoury-Sodeco intersection. The man was illiterate and therefore couldn't write up traffic tickets. Instead-- when faced with an infringing motorist-- he would damage the car, punching or kicking it, suitable to the amount the violating party would have had to pay in official fines. He passed away a few year ago. They don't make 'em like that anymore.

Profane passenger

2008-07-10T14:49:00.003+03:00

A few days ago, I hailed a servis from Geitawe to Raouche. As we were inching through traffic towards my destination–– after the other passengers had disembarked ––the driver began to ask me the usual questions:

Are you married?
Of course.
To a Lebanese?
Of course.
What religion does your husband belong to?
No religion.
Nothing? No. I mean, is he Muslim or Christian?
Not Muslim, not Christian. Nothing.
No he must be Christian or Muslim.
He doesn’t believe in God.
No, its impossible. He doesn't believe in God?
No. I don’t either.
You don't either? You must believe in God. You will be more satisfied. You must! You must!

As I reached into my wallet to pay him for the 45-minute journey across town, he refused payment with a plea to save my soul. I got out of the cab and left my godless wad of thousand lira bills on the back seat.

Telepathic handyman

2008-07-07T18:56:00.003+03:00

I moved into a new apartment; to furnish it as quickly and inexpensively as possible, I borrowed a spare refrigerator from a friend. After we had moved, cleaned and let it sit for 24 hours for good measure, the refrigerator didn't work, instead emitting a sporadic rumbling sound.

Half-a-dozen of our new neighbors came to our rescue, offering their “best refrigerator repair guy”, until the shopkeeper next door convinced us that his “was the best in the entire region.” The handyman was duly summoned. “Don’t be worried, because he is a cripple,” the shopkeeper whispered loudly, as the repairman retrieved a wrench from his tool box using one of two deformed arms.

He never did put the wrench to use; instead he sat down at the kitchen table and over endless cups of coffee and half a dozen cigarettes, listened to the refrigerator hum–– his eyes closed, his chin resting on his chest. I sat across from him, pouring him more coffee. At times, I thought he might have nodded off, his breath perfectly synchronized with the soft rumble from the refrigerator, the ash from his cigarette growing longer–– a hovering, precarious arch. I nudged the ashtray closer. Then he would raise his head, his eyes still closed, and mumble, “It might be the thermostat, in which case you had best throw the whole thing away.” Or “It might be the motherboard. Don’t bother. It’ll cost you more than a new one to repair it.” After 45 minutes, I left S. and the repairman to their own devices. Not long after I left the room, S. discovered a dashboard with buttons, hidden behind the flap on the front door where he could adjust the refrigerator’s functions.

The handyman had another cup of coffee before he left; he refused payment. “Next time,” he said, waving a contorted arm at us as he shuffled out the door.

Sunday jitters

2008-02-10T15:29:00.000+02:00

I have come to dread Sundays in Beirut. Previously my favorite day of the week, Sundays now instill a sense of dread that the artificial calm might collapse-- with breaking news of street battles, car bombs; or that this time perhaps—Monday could dawn on a country at war.

The short list of Bloody Sundays in recent memory include the Danish cartoon riots, the 2006 Qana massacre, the beginning of the Nahr el Bared siege, the car bomb at the ABC mall in Achrafiye, and the deadly riots in Shiyah last month. This might be a bogus calculation. On second thought, Tuesdays and Thursdays have a commensurate penchant for turning violent.

Frequently these days, there’s talk of a civil strife being an inevitability; we spend hours debating when—in hindsight—historians will say this war started. In 2004 with UN Security Council Resolution 1559? On February 14th, 2005? On July 12th, 2006? In November 2006, when Hezbollah and Amal quit the cabinet? Some of my friends argue with near conviction that Iran will be attacked by the US or Israel (which I don’t believe), that the region will go up in flames, and a global recession will usher in a world war. R’s mom—"Information Central"—is already carving plans for “after the war”.

Friends who were children during the civil war now customarily share stories— devastating stories of narrow escapes, of wedding parties under fire, of Picon processed cheese (a treat compared to the Ramek and Smeds variety, I am told), of munching on sunflower seeds holed up in a bomb shelter for hours, days.

Cab drivers pull out all the stops for an increased fare. In the seven- minute car ride from Tabaris to Mar Elias, a driver detailed how his mother, father and sister were killed by Israeli bombs in Marjayoun during the July War; a year later, his favorite nephew was wounded in Nahr el Bared, and now his car had not a drop of fuel left in the tank. Look at the gas meter. Empty! He expressed bewilderment that the car could even make it uphill. With every tragic detail, I found myself groping for extra cash in my pocket.

Unlike the deadly riots last January, the feudal political class has not responded to the proliferating incidences of street violence with hollow good-will gestures and talk of compromise. The rhetorical escalations continue with Sleiman Franjieh deriding the Maronite Patriarch as a senile old fart, then denouncing Lebanese Forces leader Samir Geagea, as “a criminal, and to top it off-- an impertinent one”, who killed Franjieh’s mother. Jumblatt just made a speech that rivals Goebbel’s finest moments—"If you want chaos, we welcome chaos. If you want war, we welcome one."

The March 14th Forces have called upon their followers to come out in droves for the third anniversary of Rafiq Hariri’s assassination. A source close to army intelligence claims that Hariri plans to “sweep” the tent city downtown. That would be an immeasurably reckless and stupid thing to do. I can already see the Grand Serail in flames.

I left Beirut to take care of some unfinished business and will return in March. The Martyr Prime Minister Rafiq Hariri Beirut International Airport (M.P.M.R.H.B.I.A., for short) is a deceptive gateway in and out of the country. After weeks of turmoil, departing passengers are left with the spurious impression of a stable, modern state. Shiny marble floors, tarted-up duty free saleswomen, eager baggage attendants, neon billboards which depict bustling cafes in downtown Beirut and other attractions, a competent immigration bureaucracy and a soldier who reviews your passport and asks you, “Please don’t leave Lebanon.”

Anecdotes from a banana f**k midget republic

2008-02-03T21:51:00.000+02:00

One of the most invasive features of blogging is the sitemeter, which allows you to trace all visitors to your website. Good blogger etiquette dictates that the sitemeter should be open to the public-- a nicety that some bloggers, such as GPC over at "Friday Lunch Club" have chosen to ignore.

With a sitemeter you can detect the location, operating system, domain name and time spent by each visitor perusing your blog. You can also see how people found your blog-- usually through a Google search or when another blog has linked to you.

For a while now I've been tracking "unique visits" and what led people to my blog. As I expected, most unintended visitors hoped to find information on the "Banana Republic" clothing label. With perplexing regularity, people in search of pornography are directed to this site. Some ten months ago, this blog ranked second in a Google search for "pooping female pictures" and "fucking girls Irbil" -- a city in northern Iraq.

Other highlights included Google searches for:

--Iraq + fatwa + women + banana + cucumbers (this blog ranks 2nd place)

--Nasrallah + son of virgin (4th place)

--What makes cheerleader uniforms so provocative?

--Do Lebanese people have Christmas?

--Midget + get + fuck

--Al Qaeda how to join

--fat fat Fatfat ass

--Lady using banana for fuck

Energy riots & Sunday snipers

2008-01-27T17:11:00.000+02:00

"This country is like a person with liver failure who continues drinking," L. said, her head in her hands, as news of the day's first casualties broke.

At around 4pm this afternoon, dozens of men--mostly followers of Nabih Berri's Amal Movement-- gathered near the Mar Mikhael Church in Chiyah (in Beirut's southern suburbs) to protest electricity shortages. Riots over living conditions have been an almost daily occurrence in recent weeks; some neighborhoods outside central Beirut receive only 2 hours of electricity per day.

When the impromptu rioting broke out, the army routinely moved in to clear the burning tires from the road and disperse the angry crowd. They were met with a barrage of rocks. A scuffle between soldiers and protesters ensued; and then-- sniper gunfire from an unknown location. A local Amal leader shot dead. On TV later, continuous rounds of gunfire could be heard; panicked soldiers ducked and elbowed their way along the ground as protesters tried to flee the scene.

We had been at R.'s house in Mar Elias earlier that afternoon and had just left to go to a cafe in Clemenceau. R.'s mom called and insisted she come home immediately; she called back five minutes later and told her not to come home at all that night-- the protests had spread to their neighborhood and other areas. On TV we watched a mass of young men light garbage cans on fire just a few feet from her house. One young man interviewed on New TV yelled, "Let's see whose stronger now. Sunni or Shia!" Everyone gathered around the TV set gasped. "Why are they showing this? Can't they edit it out?" S. complained.

Outside Mar Mikhael church--more wounded, more dead, amidst reports that the army had retreated under fire. The violence continued into the night. I finally decided to take a cab home. R. and S. took down the driver's name and told him to take me straight home to my front door. The driver and his friend-- who was riding shotgun-- were on their way to Casino du Liban for a night of gambling. They invited me to join; I politely declined.

At home, more bleak news: a grenade attack wounded 5 people in the Christian neighborhood of Ain el Rummaneh. An RPG was fired in Chiyah. Just before midnight Hezbollah security finally stepped in to help the army control the situation. Snipers were apprehended and arrested. The tally-- 8 people killed, and more than 22 wounded.

S. works in Burj al Barajneh -- originally a Palestinian refugee camp that now is also home to many Shia, poor migrant workers from Syria and southeast Asia. That area has barely received any state-supplied electricity and so most people are forced to subscribe to power supplied by a generator. The man who supplies the generator power to her building-- a Sunni Beiruti merchant, as she describes him-- was mobbed by dozens of angry residents last week when the electricity went out every five minutes. He was reportedly stabbed five times, but survived the attack. J. reports the same from the southern coastal city of Tyre, where his local generator supplier was shot after he announced a hike in prices. "Our standard of living only seems to decrease here," L. laments.

Prime Minister Saniora just declared tomorrow--Monday-- a "national day of mourning". All schools and universities will remain closed. Yesterday was also a national day of mourning, in honor of the 10 victims who perished in a car bombing the previous day. It seems we now have a day of mourning, followed by events that warrant a further day of mourning. "One day yes, one day no," to borrow from my first Beiruti landlord-- a phrase she employed to describe the erratic supply of potable water.

2008-01-22T11:18:00.001+02:00

The current blog layout is a work in progress... do not be alarmed by my inability to color coordinate.

The banner photo was taken by my friend Hisham Ashkar on January 23rd, 2007.

Ashura refreshments

2008-01-21T16:29:00.000+02:00

On Saturday I attended my first Ashura in Nabatiye, which commemorates the anniversary of Imam Hussein's martyrdom in Karbala some 1300 years ago. I had warned my friend D. before our early morning departure from Beirut that this might be the only Lebanese event where there is no street food and insisted we stop for a manaeesh on the way down south. But in fact there were plenty of refreshments being sold -- the metallic smell of blood didn't deter bystanders from wolfing down kababs, chickpeas and corn.

Ashura in Nabatiye is a pretty bloody affair-- young men (age 3 to 30, usually) participate while the rest of the town and visitors watch. As soon as we arrived, groups of 10-12 young men started to pour into the street from the local mosque, white cloths draped around their necks and bleeding from a (superficial) cut in the front of their heads, which they smacked with a sword or their hands, creating a flow of blood down their faces and staining their clothes. (I thought that a good advertisement for laundry detergent would show a mother trying to wash blood out of her sons clothes after Ashura).

Banging the wound ensures that the blood doesn't clot and continues to bleed, but it also means that bystanders are often covered in specks of red. I was standing back a little behind my friend S. who was getting the brunt of the spray. Suddenly a serious amount of liquid hit the side of my face. I dabbed it with my hands-- the liquid was clear and smelled acidic. Then-- another splash of liquid, this time drenching the sleeve of my jacket. I turned around and realized-- to my relief-- that I was leaning against a juice cart and was being sprayed by freshly squeezed orange juice.

Orange juice man hard at work

Two boys enjoying orange juice at Ashura

Blackout

2008-01-21T12:40:00.000+02:00

"Gaza plunged into darkness"-- last night's headline read on the BBC website.

Doctors in Gaza are being forced to choose between heating the maternity- or the emergency wards in hospitals. The Israeli government yesterday maintained that the humanitarian catastrophe was "exaggerated... because they have an interest in exaggerating" and a "ploy to attract international sympathy." After five people allegedly died in hospital wards from the shut down of Gaza's power plant, Olmert proclaimed that the Strip's residents "can walk" and added, "We won't allow the Palestinians to fire on us and destroy life in Sderot, while in Gaza life is going on as usual." 'As usual' in the relative sense, I'm sure. Because life is usually a fucking tea party in Gaza.

In Beirut we usually have 3 hours of electricity black-outs, which is totally manageable. Today I went downstairs to use my neighbor L.'s washing machine. We loaded the laundry, filled the detergent drawer and pushed the 'on' button. "It'll turn itself on when the electricity returns," L. said pragmatically. Then we went to make breakfast and coffee in the kitchen. When L. lit the stove top, the flame flickered and extinguished. No gas left in the tank. So instead I took the pan with the raw omelette upstairs, made coffee and breakfast on our camping stove, and brought it back down to her house. On the stairs I passed our neighbor M. He laughed when he saw me carrying a pan and a steaming pot of coffee. Even with neighbors like L., in Gaza there's not much you can do under a total blockade.

On Authority

2008-01-17T12:54:00.000+02:00

M. tells us the following story:

Late one night, his friend Samir is driving through Beirut in the torrential rain. He passes under a bridge; suddenly his car is submerged in a massive puddle, a veritable pond. Water begins to flood into the car's interior. Samir calls for help; he calls his friends, his family, his acquaintances-- to no avail at this late hour. Finally he dials 112-- the emergency operator-- and explains his situation, only to be informed that this did not fall under the jurisdiction of the police department. Well who do I call, Samir asks. I don't know. Try another number.

Samir waits. He again attempts to rescue his car. A passing motorist stops to help. Knee-deep in water, Samir gives up. He's cold, he's wet. He calls the emergency responder again. The same officer picks up. "Listen you son of a bitch. I'll screw your sister, you useless piece of shit..." Samir unleashes a stream of vulgarities and personal insults. "You idiot, I'm fucking insulting you. I'm cursing your mother and your sister. Come and fucking arrest me. I'm under this bridge. And please rescue my car while you're at it." He hardly got a rise out of the guy. Again he was politely informed, that such emergencies were not the business of the police department.

On Loss

2008-01-17T12:48:00.000+02:00

We met S. at my neighbor L's house. A tranquil, portly man in his late 30's with a neat beard and a penchant for guzzling vodka, S. works as an architect. He nestled on the leather couch cradling his drink and said very little for most of the evening. After the first few minutes of animated chatter (I haven't seen L. in months), she introduced S. "This is S. by the way. His house burned down two days ago!" M. interrupted her, grabbing my arm. "Burned down, you say? He lost everything! Every last item he owns! You won't believe it, man. He sunk 20,000$ into that house in renovations. He had just moved in four days before the electrical wiring caught on fire." M.'s laughter rumbled; S. nodded. A jovial grin spread across his plump cheeks. Then, as if it had just occurred to him, he added, "You know it's funny that 25 years of civil war couldn't do to my house what the fire did in 3 hours." Laughter all around.

My friend D. asked if S. was sad about the loss of his house. He thought about it for a while. "You know, once I had a friend who died. And I only started to miss him a year later. Perhaps it will be the same with my house."

Feltman's farewell

2008-01-15T19:07:00.000+02:00

A roadside bomb targeted a US embassy motorcade this afternoon as it passed through Dora, along the coast to the north of Beirut. We were up on the roof in my pied-a-terre in Rmeil, when we heard a massive explosion; I jumped up from my seat and looked out the balcony window. A vertical gray smoke cloud shot into the sky near "Normandy"-- a picturesque grassy landfill of garbage, just off the curving coastline. "Its in Dora," S. observed. "Probably a gas explosion of some sort. An accident." T. had just come over for coffee. "Well we can still have coffee, " I suggested, opening my laptop to inform anyone online of the explosion.

We all tried to make phone calls but the lines were already overloaded. The power had been out for two hours that afternoon; when electricity is rationed, it usually turns on after three hours in our neighborhood. "Hey look, the electricity went back on just seconds after the explosion," Danielle noted. "It's our consolation prize."

For the next half hour, I re-loaded the news websites to look for updates and chatted online. Sirens wailed as ambulances raced to the scene. First, they reported that 10 were wounded; the source of the explosion yet unknown. Then three dead. Then four. I told my friend Danielle, who is visiting from New York, "Usually when they bomb during the day it means somebody has been targeted. The symbolic bombing that is just meant to scare people usually happens after nightfall." She looked at me as if I was trying to convince her of something utterly unscientific.

A few minutes later then, the news broke that one of the targeted cars had US embassy license plates, that in fact outgoing US Ambassador Jeffrey Feltman had been on his way to a farewell party at the Phoenicia hotel. Then they said, two Americans were wounded. Then the State Department denied any Americans were wounded. J. claimed an American guy called "Matthew Clayton"-- an Evangelical preacher, apparently-- was wounded and brought to Geitawe hospital. D. -- who lives in Washington D.C-- kept us informed of live news coverage on Al Jazeera, because we don't have a TV. No Americans were wounded, he said, but a "Lebanese personality" from March 14 was riding in one of the Embassy cars. Apparently the car that was hit was a decoy for the Ambassador. And so on and so forth.

Two and a half hours later, I'm getting hungry. Feltman's farewell bash at the Phoenicia hotel was canceled. I told J., "Just yesterday I said something was going to happen this week." He replied,"Oh really?!? Well if this were Sweden, I'd be impressed."

Back in Beirut

2008-01-14T12:00:00.000+02:00

Man in Hamra straddling two ladders

I found Beirut much as I left it six months ago—stagnant and uneasy. At night, the army and darak (police in gray camouflage uniforms) patrol Beirut’s abandoned streets; tanks sit idly stationed at every big intersection. R. complains that –since the end of the Nahr el Bared campaign— the army soldiers have started to behave obnoxiously. “It’s gotten to their heads—all the praise. Now they’re behavior is indistinguishable from the darak.” On our third night in Beirut, a soldier menacingly trailed us through the streets as we walked home-- just a foot or so behind us, not a taxi in sight.

Billboards and advertisements tailored to the current woes of the Lebanese line the highway from the airport to Beirut: for the many citizens dependent on remittances from abroad--Western Union pledges to “Send Peace” with your money order. The city’s billboard-scape also boasts USAID’s newest PR campaign—“A gift from the American people to the Lebanese”, as well as a few new entries to the martyr hall of fame. Regal portraits of Army Commander General Michel Suleiman, the unlucky president elect, have been erected under the banner “Our Savior.” Rafiq Hariri has been dead for 1000-and-God-knows how many days, according to the gigantic counter at the entrance to Hamra; my friends joke that they want to erect an additional counter to track how many times the presidential elections have been postponed. Is it 11 or 12 now?

Prices for every day things have gone up; an Almaza beer will cost you 1250 LL, a manaeesh jubneh up to 2000LL, a one bedroom apartment in Rmeil or Jeitawe $400. Narcotic- and alcohol abuse is rampant; on Sunday afternoon the little bars in Gemayze are packed. "I drink because it makes me calm," S. says. "For twenty-five years, I lived in a bomb shelter. Now I'm free and I drink to forget those twenty-five years."

On Tuesday, then, a series of violent incidents down south—a car bomb targeted a UNIFIL vehicle wounding two Irish peacekeepers--hardly upset the routine of most Beirutis. People were preoccupied with the possibility of a surprise visit by George W. Bush. R. called. "Do you know if he's coming or not?" she asked. "How come the shit hits the fan as soon as you arrive in town?" Hezbollah threatened to bus in hundreds of thousands of protesters in the eventuality of a presidential visit, to put him under a "tight siege" but prevent any "assault" against him by Al Qaeda or the likes.

I am writing all this from a café-bar where the house specialty advertised on the menu is a “Sex with the Bartender” cocktail. More soon.

2007-12-15T11:10:00.000+02:00

I failed to conclusively sign off. I'll be back at the beginning of January, right after the New Year. In the meantime, revel in the "betrayal" of the Cedar Revolution on a blog near you.

Travel ban for Lebanese opposed to Saniora government

2007-06-29T22:19:00.000+03:00

Suspension of Entry as Immigrants and Nonimmigrants of Persons Responsible for Policies and Actions That Threaten Lebanon's Sovereignty and Democracy

A Proclamation by the President of the United States of America

"In order to foster democratic institutions in Lebanon, to help the Lebanese people preserve their sovereignty and achieve their aspirations for democracy and regional stability, and to end the sponsorship of terrorism in Lebanon, it is in the interest of the United States to restrict the international travel, and to suspend the entry into the United States, as immigrants or nonimmigrants, of aliens who deliberately undermine or harm Lebanon's sovereignty, its legitimate government, or its democratic institutions, contribute to the breakdown in the rule of law in Lebanon, or benefit from policies or actions that do so, including through the sponsorship of terrorism, politically motivated violence and intimidation, or the reassertion of Syrian control in Lebanon.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, GEORGE W. BUSH, President of the United States of America, by the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, including section 212(f) of the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952, 8 U.S.C. 1182(f), and section 301 of title 3, United States Code, hereby find that the unrestricted immigrant and nonimmigrant entry into the United States of persons described in section 1 of this proclamation would, except as provided for in sections 2 and 3 of this proclamation, be detrimental to the interests of the United States.

I therefore hereby proclaim that:

Section 1. The entry into the United States, as immigrants or nonimmigrants, of the following aliens is hereby suspended:

(a) Lebanese government officials, former Lebanese government officials, and private persons who deliberately undermine or harm Lebanon's sovereignty, its legitimate government, or its democratic institutions, or contribute to the breakdown in the rule of law in Lebanon, including through the sponsorship of terrorism, politically motivated violence or intimidation, or the reassertion of Syrian control in Lebanon;

(b) Syrian government officials, former Syrian government officials, and persons who meet the criteria for designation under section 3(a)(i) or (ii) of Executive Order 13338 of May 11, 2004, who deliberately undermine or harm Lebanon's sovereignty, its legitimate government, or its democratic institutions, or contribute to the breakdown in the rule of law in Lebanon, including through the sponsorship of terrorism, politically motivated violence or intimidation, or the reassertion of Syrian control in Lebanon;

(c) Persons in Lebanon who act on behalf of, or actively promote the interests of, Syrian government officials by deliberately undermining or harming Lebanon's sovereignty, its legitimate government, or its democratic institutions, or contribute to the breakdown in the rule of law in Lebanon, including through the sponsorship of terrorism, politically motivated violence or intimidation, or the reassertion of Syrian control in Lebanon;

(d) Persons who, through their business dealings with any of the persons described in subsection (a), (b), or (c) of this section, derive significant financial benefit from, or materially support, policies or actions that deliberately undermine or harm Lebanon's sovereignty, its legitimate government, or its democratic institutions, or contribute to the breakdown in the rule of law in Lebanon, including through the sponsorship of terrorism, politically motivated violence or intimidation, or the reassertion of Syrian control in Lebanon; and

(e) The spouses and dependent children of persons described in subsections (a), (b), (c), and (d) of this section.

Sec. 2. Section 1 of this proclamation shall not apply with respect to any person otherwise covered by section 1 where entry of such person would not be contrary to the interests of the United States.

Sec. 3. Persons covered by section 1 or 2 of this proclamation shall be identified by the Secretary of State or the Secretary's designee, in his or her sole discretion, pursuant to such procedures as the Secretary may establish under section 5 of this proclamation.

Sec. 4. Nothing in this proclamation shall be construed to derogate from U.S. Government obligations under applicable international agreements.

Sec. 5. The Secretary of State shall have responsibility for implementing this proclamation pursuant to such procedures as the Secretary, in the Secretary's sole discretion, may establish.

Sec. 6. This proclamation is effective immediately. It shall remain in effect until such time as the Secretary of State determines that it is no longer necessary and should be terminated, either in whole or in part. Any such determination by the Secretary of State shall be published in the Federal Register.

Sec. 7. This proclamation is not intended to, and does not, create any right, benefit, or privilege, substantive or procedural, enforceable at law or in equity, by any party against the United States, its departments, agencies, instrumentalities, or entities, its officers or employees, or any other person.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this twenty eighth day of June, in the year of our Lord two thousand seven, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-first."

GEORGE W. BUSH

Lebanese Army Fires Live Ammunition at Protesters

2007-06-29T20:59:00.000+03:00

My intention was to write a final post and bury this blog. That will have to wait. These eye-witness accounts of today's events tell a completely different story than what is being reported in the press. In all of the mainstream media reports I have read, witnesses remain undisclosed and army officials are cited anonymously.

According to Caoimhe Butterly, an Irish activist, the protesters were unarmed and possibly a few hundred meters away from the army checkpoint when soldiers opened machine gunfire on the civilians for two to three minutes. They opened fire again, injuring people who were trying to evacuate the wounded.

"Two civilians were killed, and 35 wounded, including 5 women, one
elderly sheikh, and 7 children below the age of 15 – including one
3-year-old child. Seven of the wounded are critically wounded, having
been shot above the waist."

Read the rest below.

Lebanese Army Fires Live Ammunition at Peaceful Protest in Solidarity
with Nahr el Bared Refugee Camp

2 killed, 25 wounded, 7 critical cases shot above their waist

Today, during the second day of a three-day peaceful protest in the
Palestinian refugee camp of Badaoui in solidarity with Palestinian
refugees from Nahr el Bared, the Lebanese Army opened fire on the
protestors in Badawi refugee camp, killing two people and injuring 25,
7 critically.

A peaceful protest began within the Badawi Palestinian Refugee Camp in
north Lebanon. The protestors had signs reading "Nahr el Bared is in
our soul" and "Nahr el Bared, we won't forget you." The protestors
were calling for an end to the violence.

Energetic male youth continued the protest outside the camp, against
the wishes and attempts of the organizers.

As they proceeded towards the Lebanese army's checkpoint, the army
issued verbal warnings telling the protesters to stay away. At this
point, women and children raced to the front to try to prevent the
army from firing upon the crowd. The Lebanese army shot two warning
shots into the air and then immediately responded with machine gun
fire at the crowd of approximately 300 peaceful protesters. The army
continued firing on people as they were attempting to retrieve the
wounded.

Caoimhe Butterly, an activist and organizer, reported on what she had
personally witnessed. "The army first opened fire with 2 to 3 minutes
of sustained fire. When there was a lull in the shooting, we rushed in
with our hands above our heads. At this stage, the Army started firing
on the road again. Thus, people retrieving the wounded were wounded."

In response to the Lebanese Army's claim that a "significant number"
of the protestors had clubs, Butterly said, "the protestors did not
have clubs. Nobody had clubs. We saw the whole demonstration. They
weren't carrying anything. We went from the beginning to the end of
the demonstration. We saw it all, and no one was carrying clubs."

Furthermore, she continued, "the protest was never out of hand. They
weren't throwing stones. At the time the Army opened fire, women were
sitting on the ground at the front, and a number of people even had
their backs to the soldiers. At the time the Army opened fire, people
were getting quieter and had stopped shouting, as if shouting is
enough to legitimize open fire."

In response to the Lebanese Army's claim that the protestors were 10
meters away from the checkpoint, Butterly said, "We were at a distance
where we couldn't distinguish their faces; we could only distinguish
their figures. We were possibly at a distance of a few hundred meters,
and definitely not 10 meters. We were far away from the checkpoint."

Two civilians were killed, and 35 wounded, including 5 women, one
elderly sheikh, and 7 children below the age of 15 – including one
3-year-old child. Seven of the wounded are critically wounded, having
been shot above the waist.
The protest was held in a response to the ongoing siege of Nahr al
Bared refugee camp in an attempt to highlight the worsening
humanitarian situation and indiscriminate shelling endured by the up
to 3,000 civilians still remaining in the camp. The protest began
yesterday by initiating a three-day water-only symbolic hunger strike
in solidarity with family and friends in Nahr al Bared who are
presently experiencing the hunger, fear and vulnerability of facing a
second month under siege. The protest included a silent procession and
die-in to highlight the to-date 36 civilian casualties earlier this
afternoon and an open mike and opportunity for the press to interview
people throughout the day who have recently evacuated Nahr al Bared.

--
Eyewitness Contacts:
Caoimhe Butterly: +961 70 824084
Rasha Najdeh: + 961 3 963562

press release written by: Rania Masri, 961 3 135279

Bus bombs & the Blame (a Syrian) Game

2007-06-05T10:20:00.000+03:00

Yesterday evening, at around 8.30pm, a bomb exploded in Sad Boushriyeh, in the eastern suburbs of Beirut. Ten people were injured. It followed a similar pattern of previous bombings-- evidently designed to scare, rather than inflict maximum casualties. I was sitting at my computer in my office, listening to music. These days, I habitually turn the volume down every few minutes to listen for ambulance sirens or dogs barking. I heard a thud from the east, followed by another smaller thud, but didn't make much of it. I often confuse the sound of shipping containers being carelessly unloaded at the nearby port with acts of violence.

A few minutes later an instant message flashed at the bottom of my computer screen. "Did you hear the bomb?" Jamal inquired. "Was it coming from the east? Thought I heard something." "Yeah. New TV says in Industrial City, Bourj Hammoud." "Oh shit." I reached for my phone to call M. but the lines were already overloaded. I signed off the Internet and walked down to my apartment, stopping at the corner store for cigarettes and water. The shopkeeper was gone; his teenage daughter sat behind the counter, holding her head in her hands.

At home I turned on the TV and repeatedly tried to call M., to no avail. The explosion must have been very close to his house, I thought. Images of police army cordoning off the area around a bombed out bus and torched cars in a poorly lit street. After a short while I found myself changing the channel, in search of mindless entertainment.

I was watching the Democratic Primary "debates", when my neighbor Tariq appeared at the door, which I had left ajar. "What are you doing?"he asked. "Nothing. Watching TV." "We're going to the bomb site. Do you wanna come? You have one minute to decide." Tariq is a conflict zone-junkie, a reporter for BBC Brazil. He recently spent twelve-hours holed up in an apartment right next to army artillery positions on the periphery of Nahr el Bared camp. At all times he sports a khaki multi-pocketed vest; his press-pass dangles from his neck for convenience's sake. "Sure...", I hesitated, and turned off the TV.

We drove around in circles in search of the bomb site, following the smell of burning tires and petrol. We stopped to ask a man for directions. He matter-of-factly pointed us in the right direction with the usual polite formalities.

The outer perimeter of the cordoned off area was guarded by plainclothes men armed with automatic rifles. Tariq flashed his press card and slipped under the police tape. Teenage boys, women, men, photographers and soldiers were standing around outside the Mar Takla church, just 30 meters from where the bomb detonated.

The blue-and-white bus in which the bomb was allegedly placed was off limits to the press. Shopkeepers were already clearing the broken glass from their storefronts; the owner of a kebab joint had swept all the glass into a neat pile and continued to make sandwiches. The facade of a six-story commercial building across from the blast was damaged; twisted shutters hung from their hinges exposing office furniture and overturned filing cabinets.

Suddenly a commotion ensued, as four plain clothes men handcuffed a young man-- perhaps twenty-years old-- and escorted him to a white civilian car with Saida license plates. They shoved him into the backseat and closed the door. He sat in the backseat, straining his neck to peer out of the rearview window, terrified. A group of 10 to 12 men stood around the car. Occasionally they opened the door of the car and said something to him. I walked over and asked one of the younger men, who was wearing a T-shirt with "Jesus Soldiers" blazoned across the back, why they arrested the young man. He declined to respond, but his friend replied, matter-of-factly, "Because he's Syrian."

A tall man with a shaved head who seemed to be in charge, overheard this exchange and bellowed, "No, he's Lebanese. Please move away!" As we retreated away from the car, I made eye contact with the young man under detention or arrest, as the car drove off. "It's going to be a rough night for him..." Tariq muttered.

We left the cordoned off area, down an alleyway padded with broken glass.

I hailed a servis to go home. The cab driver-- a card-carrying member of Jumblatt's PSP party as he told me-- dropped off the other two passengers and promptly started railing against the Palestinians and Syrians. "What do they want from Lebanon? Can't they go back to their own country?" "Well, no..." I thought, as I reclined in the back seat. A young man on the side of the road signaled for us to stop. "To Ouzai," he said. The cab driver declined, drove on, and then suddenly hit the brakes. "He's Syrian!" he hissed, peering through the back window as if to reverse the car. "To Ouzai? I don't go to Ouzai..." "Please I need to get home," I interjected. For the rest of the journey he muttered to himself: Lebanon, beautiful Lebanon-- the mountains, the food, the sea-- alas! always at the mercy of others.

This morning M. finally called. His brother was in a car, ten meters in front of the bus when it exploded. I told him about the young man arrested at the scene of the bombing. "Yeah, I heard about it. They said he was trying to run away... I would run away, too, if a bomb went off."

A Day in the North Pt. II

2007-06-03T22:18:00.000+03:00

Yesterday morning, I woke up and switched on the TV. The usual black and white smoke clouds above the skyline of Nahr el Bared camp. The army claimed it had advanced so-and-so many meters into the camp; miraculously only Fatah al Islam "intruders" were killed. The news update ended; a clip set to a bombastic marching tune praising the heroic Lebanese army. I turned off the TV and went to wake M. up. He was in his usual position-- face down, sprawled diagonally across the bed. "We want to go to the north. We don't know what's going on from watching TV. Will you take us?" "No. Take a bus," he mumbled, and went back to sleep.

M. is from the north; he knows Nahr el Bared camp and the surrounding area. Last summer he worked as a fixer driving journalists around Dahiye and the south in his rusty wreck of a Honda. It has seen twenty or more accidents and can barely make 60 km per hour. Half of the car's body is black, the other half grey with some splashes of white. The car horn -- a primary means of asserting yourself in traffic -- only works sporadically; this has taught him patience, he contends. M. knows how to talk to every type of authority. He has a knack for dialects and caters his word choice to each individual situation.

I consulted with my roommate Y. who was all dressed up and ready to go. I shrugged. "You ask him. He might listen to you." We returned to the room, and tugged on M.'s leg, like two pesky children begging for a goodnight story. "Please, will you go with us? We can't go without you. You know the roads. Please?" He yawned, rolled over, and obliged us. "OK, we'll leave in ten minutes. Go load the batteries for the camera and get us breakfast."

An hour and a half later, we turned off the highway north of Tripoli and headed towards the sea, along the same road I had taken only a few days ago, past the former army checkpoint 5 to 6 kilometers south of the Nahr el Bared refugee camp. Two very loud explosions from the mountains to the east caught us by surprise. We ducked; M. hit the brakes. A BMW skidded and raced past us. We honked, signaled for him to stop and pulled up next to him. "Is it safe to take this road? Are there snipers? We are trying to find the place where the journalists and medics are stationed." The young man behind the steering wheel was in a hurry. "You can go about 4 kilometers. The road beyond that is in the line of fire. You take a right up at the corner..." He broke off in mid-sentence and signaled for us to follow him instead.

We trailed him, along the coastal dirt road, lined with dilapidated houses and car mechanic shops. A few dozen men were tinkering away at their cars; women and children stood on their balconies or peered from the windows as explosions and gunfire erupted, seemingly from various locations. "It sounds like they are firing those new American 240 mm shells," M. said. "It's definitely bigger than a 155mm. Be really vigilant and on the look out," he instructed us. "On the look out for what? Snipers?" I inquired. "Just be alert," he replied keeping his eye on the road ahead.

The BMW we had been following now pulled over to the side of the road. "I have to turn off to the right here. The journalists should be at the next intersection, just up ahead. Be careful," he advised. We drove on slowly, but there was nobody at that intersection, nor at the next. "Have we driven too far," I wondered. "Is it even possible for us to get too close without the army turning us away?" My roommate in the back seat agreed that we should turn around, except then, just ahead I recognized the checkpoint at which last week's demonstration had taken place.

To my surprise it was unfortified and only manned by one soldier in the company of a tall, lanky man, sporting olive green fatigues, a hefty but well-trimmed beard, sunglasses and what resembled a straw safari hat. We crept towards them and rolled down the window. "Excuse me, where are all the journalists and medics?" M. asked the soldier. "Everybody's gone. They left," he replied with remarkable disinterest. "Where did they go?" "They went somewhere else. That way..." he replied waving his hand. "Is it safe to drive up that road?" "No," the bearded-man in the olive green fatigues interjected. "But go if you like..."

We reversed and drove back down the same road. "Can we drive really fast?" I asked, reclining in the seat. M. assured me that we would, as soon as we got further away from the checkpoint. "That man... the man with the beard-- he's not in the army," M., whose father is an administrator in the Lebanese Army, noted. "Who the hell was he?" I asked. "He was probably a militia man. Must have been. And his uniform was ironed. This wasn't some makeshift outfit. He wears that every day. That's his job," M. surmised, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "He looked like an Islamist version of a platoon leader," I remarked. "Perhaps we just saw one of the 'third party' fighters." "I believe it now," M. concluded. "That was probably the militia they've been talking about. It's true what they've been saying."

We turned left at the end of the coastal dirt road to return to the highway. Three or four military jeeps passed us. None of the soldiers took note of us. Back on the highway, a procession of ten to twelve tanks, fortified with sandbags, each carrying 5-6 soldiers, their rifles cocked in every direction passed us en route to Nahr el Bared. "This looks like something out of World War II. These aren't the same boys who lackadaisically man the tanks in Beirut. They are here to fight..." I noted, as we slowed down to a crawl for the road block ahead.

M. routinely removed his sunglasses, earring and turned off the stereo. The soldier peered at us through the window. His eyes yellow and bloodshot, he mouthed "hawiyyeh," and signaled for an ID card with both his hands. M. handed him the document. "Tfaddal. Allah ma'ak," the soldier whispered hoarsely.

We turned off the highway and up the winding road to Badawe camp. Outside a shop, two armed Palestinian guards directed us to the back entrance of the camp. We parked outside a UNRWA school and entered the yard. Men, women and children sat around on plastic chairs seeking shade on the steps leading up to the school. A hand-written sign in the yard read, "Massacre is in Nahr El Bared. PRESS: Go there."

We crossed the school yard and entered the adjacent Ghassan Kanafani cultural center I had visited last week. In one of the offices, two members of Save the Children foundation were at work, labeling the positions of Fatah al Islam, schools and mosques on a Google Earth map of the camp.

A Swedish woman, a "child safety consultant," according to her business card, briefed us on the latest developments. "We are receiving pictures of the dead-- children, the disabled and elderly. Most of the people who remained are very old; others stayed because they fear not being allowed to return to their homes and being re-located to temporary encampments." "How are you receiving the photos?" I asked. "People are sending them in over their phones. I just received one of a sixty-year old woman, her head blown off. Just now they say a large building near the marketplace, in the densest area of the camp, collapsed from continuous shelling. The situation is bad. Bad. Very bad," she said, and returned to her computer. "Oh and the Lebanese press are denying there are still as many people in the camp," she continued. "There are at least 5,000 who remain inside. They keep reporting that only the Fatah al Islam remain. It's simply not true."

I asked her about the bus of refugees fleeing Nahr el Bared that was allegedly ambushed by militia men during the first ceasefire. That day, I had received text messages from people up north, reporting that civilians had been shot and tortured as they tried to flee; shot and tortured by a "third party militia". When I visited Badawe last week, I heard the same story from a young man and an elderly lady. The Swedish child safety consultant sized me up. "The thirteen year old boy on the bus, he was tortured with electricity. He survived. His grandfather has taken him out of the camp, because he doesn't want him to have to answer any more questions. An Amnesty International delegation is here looking for him." I replied that I had also heard of two survivors who were being treated in the Norwegian hospital at the camp's entrance. "Yes, that's what they say. I don't think they want to talk about it now," she replied cooly.

We left her office and wandered out into the yard. A group of teenage boys surrounded us. "Are you journalists? Who do you work for?" "Not really," M. replied. "We are just here visiting for the day." "Hey, do you want to drink some laban donated by Hariri?", Ali, who claimed to be seventeen, inquired puffing on a cigarette. "I don't like Hariri," I declined. "Neither do we. But it's good laban. Come!" he beckoned. We walked with him and his friends back to the UNRWA school yard and out into an adjacent parking lot. "If you don't want laban. We can drink whiskey," he suggested. "I will invite you for a night at Casino du Liban. They serve big platters of fruit with the drinks there," Ali mused. "It's very expensive. And full of khalijis," I replied. "No, it only costs 75,000LL ($50)," Ali insisted.

An elderly disabled man came over and handed us a petition, hand-written on the back of a sheet of baking foil. "We ask that the army and Fatah al Islam agree to take the fighting outside our camp." "It's like Jenin," another man interjected. Ahmed, who I spoke to last Tuesday hours he had fled the camp, was eager to re-tell his story to M. and Y. The frenzied pitch with which he spoke reminded me of stories of torture victims from the 1980s in South America. Many survivors were maddened by the prospect that nobody would believe them; their torturers had been careful to leave no exterior wounds, instead inflicting internal bruising and psychological injuries. "There is not one dead civilian. Not one. Many many many. Not one," Ahmed repeated.

While we were chatting with the kids in the street, a gunman from "Saiqa" asked us to disperse. "I'm really sorry, but we need to keep things calm," he said. "Things are very tense." We apologized as he horded the kids back into the parking lot. He offered us juice. "I was born during the summer of 1982. In a bomb shelter. Our situation now is quite similar," he remarked.

A Day in the North

2007-05-30T11:11:00.000+03:00

Yesterday I visited the outskirts of Nahr el Bared camp in northern Lebanon, the newest front of the US-led "war on terror". The camp-- the second largest in Lebanon, home to 40,000 Palestinian refugees-- is located just north of Tripoli, bordering the Mediterranean coast on one side, surrounded by luscious greenery and a highway on the other.

Just outside Nahr el Bared camp

The Lebanese Army has besieged and shelled the camp with the help of American weapons, express delivered over the past few days, in an attempt to eliminate 300-500 Fatah al Islam fighters who attacked and killed 27 soldiers earlier last week. Fatah al Islam is a fanatical Salafi group of Lebanese, Saudi, Bangladeshi, Yemeni and Syrian fighters who set up shop there late last year, allegedly with the help of certain individuals in the pro-western Lebanese government. Claims of outright government complicity, which first surfaced in an article by Seymour Hersh in a January issue of the New Yorker have been substantiated through interviews with the Fatah al Intifada leadership and other sources. Locals in Tripoli claim the apartments used as a sniper nest by the militants belong to Future MP Ahmed Fatfat's son. Talk about a negligent landlord who doesn't notice his upscale rental is being used as a weapons cache by a gaggle of devout foreign men.

On the tenth day of the siege, the casualty numbers for civilians killed by army shells and Fatah al Islam gunfire, as well as sniper fire by a yet unknown third party, have not been confirmed as the fighting rages on. The army claims only one civilian was killed; the camp authorities and civilian population cannot clear the rubble or damage incurred to more than two hundred housing units, schools and mosques. Ambulances, aid workers, reporters and inhabitants are denied entrance or re-entrance. Estimated casualties range up to one hundred. Nahr al Bared inhabitants have drawn up a list of seventeen confirmed deaths and dozens more wounded.

Names and ages of the confirmed dead on a wall in Badawe camp

A protest was scheduled for 12.30 in the afternoon, about a kilometer from the northern entrance to the camp. This as close as the Red Cross, Red Crescent and media can get to the camp. An estimated 10,000-15,000 residents remain in the camp.

About two dozen people-- inhabitants of Nahr el Bared, some journalists and activists-- gathered, carrying banners: "More access for ambulances", "Against the restriction on coverage of camp siege. The right to know the humanitarian crisis" and "Condemn the assault on the army. Refuse to jeopardize the safety of the camp and its inhabitants."

Twice as many soldiers formed a line across from the demonstrators, occasionally ordering people to move back as sporadic gunfire erupted in the distance. The atmosphere was notably tense, the soldiers aggravated by the presence of cameras. A reporter from NBN was hauled in and detained by the army. They suspected he was filming them. Other reporters have been detained by the army since the fighting broke out last week.

After an hour, word came from Badawe camp that a group of displaced women and children, refugees from Nahr el Bared were going to walk to join the protest. We set off to meet them by car, to help them get through the army checkpoints. But as they were set to march from Badawe, the camp leadership prevented them from leaving.

En route to Badawe, an equal number of women and foreigners were assigned to each car, to prevent Palestinian passengers from being harassed by the army. As we stopped at an army checkpoint, the soldier peered in and asked us where we were from. "Beirut," the driver responded. "Killon, al chabab? (All the guys?)" he asked. He responded, yes, and we drove on, the displaced breathing a sigh of relief.

We drove around the periphery of the camp on the highway. Army tanks were stationed along the outer wall, which was lined with sandbags and mounds of dirt; we could see two or three scorched multi-story buildings and a damaged mosque.

Nahr el Bared; army tank and dirt mounds outside the camp walls

Refugees from Nahr el Bared surveying the destruction of the camp from the highway

We stopped at a building overlooking Nahr el Bared and climbed to the roof where a camera crew had set up shop before continuing on to Badawe.

Badawe Camp is ordinarily home to 16,000 Palestinian refugees, but has taken in an estimated 15,000 inhabitants of Nahr el Bared who fled the fighting between Fatah al Islam and the Lebanese army. Families have trickled in every day. Ahmed, a fifty year old man, had left Nahr el Bared just that morning. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes dirty. "They are going to destroy the camp tonight. For nothing. Fatah al Islam-- they will fight to the death." I asked him who funds Fatah al Islam and got the same response I received from a mukhabarat agent (army intelligence) in Gemmayze on Saturday night. Saad al Hariri. "We knew it all along. But why do they have do this now?" Ahmed puzzled, shaking his head.

At the Ghassan Kanafani cultural foundation, a young man showed us a map of Nahr el Bared, the areas he believed to have been shelled and five places where Fatah al Islam are holed up in along the periphery.

"Fatah al Islam are shooting from homes right next to my house, but my house was not hit by the shells. But other areas were all over the camp," he told a group of activists and volunteers. "This area by the beach, we call it Jounieh [a Christian port town to the north of Beirut]. It's very nice," he grinned. He detailed the same story I have heard from numerous parties but have not been able to confirm, since the first busloads of people fled the camp during a ceasefire last Tuesday. Apparently one of the busses leaving the camp was stopped by unknown militiamen. They ambushed the bus, shot the driver and a pregnant woman, stole her valuables and tortured and mutilated other passengers, including children. One of the survivors is allegedly recovering in a Badawe clinic. "We have their names, the names of those were attacked and killed," he avowed.

At a school in the center of Badawe, volunteers and displaced inhabitants of Nahr el Bared had planned an evening of activities in protest of the destruction and siege of their camp. The principle of the school refused to let them host the event in the school's yard. "They are selling us out," a young man protested. "They have orders not to let us protest even inside the camps." After an hour of deliberation, it was decided the event would take place without the permission of the school principle. Loudspeakers were set up as hundreds of children roamed around, playing, helping to put up banners, shouting and clapping.

"I am from Nahr el Bared," a seven-year old boy told me. "But now I live in Badawe". "But you are going back to Nahr el Bared," I replied. "Inshallah," he said cocking his head defiantly.

A young boy selected women's boots from the relief donations

A little girl and her friends came over to tell us that "their" camp is much nicer than this one, as if apologizing for a messy house to unexpected visitors. "My camp is beautiful. Not like this," she said, waving her hand dismissively at her surroundings.

Then it was time for poetry readings, speeches and finally a slide show of four hundred pictures taken from inside the camp. Much of the evening seemed geared towards the media and outside world. "Are you a journalist? Are you a journalist?" screeching children tugged at our clothes. But the media was curiously absent, and the slogans-- many of them in English-- might never be seen beyond the gates of the camp.

Two or three young men dominated the evening's events, shouting through a microphone. S. said, in disbelief, "they are yelling at them not to accept food and aid and sit around helplessly."A little girl read a statement she had written from a piece of paper, to loud cheers from the crowd; a boy recited Koranic verses which were received with whoops of Allahu Akbar.

Fairuz's "Al Quds fil al Baal (Jerusalem on my mind)" played; a slideshow of destruction and dismembered bloody bodies was screened from a projector. I sat next to Noor, a ten year old girl from Nahr el Bared.

She began to sob at the sight of a little boy with bloodied legs followed by a photo of amputated arms; a pair of sandals abandoned in the middle of the street. She dried her tears and asked me about Germany. Candles were handed out and snatched up by all the kids.

The event was over and we drove back to Beirut, mindful of slowing down at army checkpoints and the less evident random paroles. Five people have lost their lives, having failed or refused to stop for the army during the past few days. Oh, but one of the men, a cabdriver shot at a checkpoint near Beirut airport was a criminal, a forger of papers, and Syrian to top it off.

To the readers who complained that I failed to express sympathy for the soldiers and did not condemn the brutal attack against them last Sunday by Fatah al Islam, I have this to say:

I sympathize with the families of the young men and when I first head of the events I was horrified. But their killing does not justify the collective punishment of the camp's inhabitants, who are not to blame for Fatah al Islam's presence in their midst. On the contrary. While much of this country is misdirecting their anger and desire for vengeance against Palestinian civilians and failing to blame the parties who funded and/or tolerated Fatah al Islam, while that same army is blocking the media, paramedics and inhabitants from returning to the camp, and is executing orders that are against international conventions and law, I am more inclined to condemn the political leadership (and of course the kooky fanatics) for those soldiers' deaths.

Support the army from those who put them at risk by funding Fatah al Islam; prevent efforts to split the army along sectarian grounds; protect the army from orders to fight a dirty war against civilians and their homes, against waging a losing battle against a group that should have been denied access to this country, the camps, funds and weapons in the first place.

These civilians are helpless; the army is not, certainly not with the gung-ho support they enjoy on Facebook and from some of my readers.

2007-05-24T19:22:00.000+03:00

Palestinian civilians fleeing Nahr el Bared refugee camp

Pop Quiz

2007-05-24T13:33:00.000+03:00

Who Said It?

1. We will hunt down and kill the terrorists/ We will not surrender to the terrorists

A. George W. Bush
B. John Kerry
C. Ariel Sharon
D. Elias Murr
E. All of the Above!

2. Support our troops/ the army

A. The Yanks
B. The Phoenicians
C. The Israelis
D. All of the above!

3. They hate us for our Freedom/our Tribunal

A. George "He Tried to Kill my Daddy" Bush
B. Walid "They Killed my Daddy and I didn't mind until 25 years later" Jumblatt
C. Saad "They killed my Daddy. I am Saad Hariri and I am for Chapter Seven" Hariri
C. Nayla "They killed my Husband and I kept silent while on mukhabarat payroll" Mouawad
E. All of the above!

Send your answers to pitythecedars@gmail.com. Winners will be announced at a mass grave in Nahr el Bared. The winner receives an "I love Life & the LAF (Lebanese Armed Forces)" bumper sticker for the back of their armored hummer.

And here's the Bonus Question:

Which parties previously funded -- directly or indirectly-- terrorists that they later tried to hunt down and kill?

A. Reagan & the Bush dynasty
B. March 14th
C. The House of Saud
D. All of the Above!

The winner of the bonus question gets a free midnight shopping spree at any of the malls mentioned on the UN's list of possible targets.

Bewareth the Mall & Rallying behind the Troops

2007-05-24T09:07:00.000+03:00

Monday night at R. and L.'s house in Mar Elias.
I invited R. and L. over to my house, but they declined. "We're staying away from Jesusland for a while." Nearly every car bomb during the past two years has occurred in the "Christian areas" where I live. I took a servis from Achrafiye at around 9 or 10 pm. The streets in Saifi and Gemmayze were almost empty, save a street cleaner or two. "Nobody is out tonight," the car driver noted, expressing his displeasure with the fare we had agreed upon during this lull in business.

At R. and L.'s house, we sat in the living room and discussed the situation. "What are we going to do?" I asked. "You mean where are we going to hang out," L. replied. "We are not going out." "I am not going out ever again," R. said. "It's house party season from now on."

"I've been preparing myself. If a war starts, I will not start smoking again," L. said reclining on the couch as R. and I puffed away. Fifteen minutes later, L. left the room to fill a pitcher with arak in the kitchen. R. and I were deep in conversation, when we heard a thud in the distance. We continued speaking for a few seconds. "Did you hear that?" L. rushed in from the other room. "Did you hear something?" The landline phone rang. R.'s mother, who is also known as "Information Central", walked in puffing on a cigarette in her robe, and answered the phone. She spoke for a few seconds and then hung up. "It's in Verdun"-- an upscale shopping district-- she said and left the room again.

We turned on the TV. Nothing on the news yet. I sent a text message to a friend in Dubai, to my roommate who was at home in Achrafiye, to another friend in Zahle. The lines were already overloaded. I had to re-send each message five or six times. "It will take a few minutes before its on the news," R. said, flipping through the channels. The phone rang again. "It's in Verdun. Near Scoozi restaurant." New TV interrupted its broadcast and confirmed that an explosion had occurred in Verdun, that security guards were pushing people away from the scene of what might have been a targeted assassination. "Who could it be?" We listed the politicians who live close or nearby. Saad Hariri, Nabih Berri, Ghazi Aridi. "Please let it not be Saad Hariri. I won't be able to stomach the campaign-- father and son, reunited in heaven."

"Now they have consecutively targeted both the upper crust Christian and Muslim areas in Beirut. I bet over in Achrafiye they're relieved its not in their neighborhood again," I remarked. "I passed by there twice today," L. muttered as we watched a chaotic scene unfold on TV. Dozens of people and policemen gathered around torched cars; flames spit from a commercial high rise building. The camera scanned across the fearful face of a woman of southeast Asian origin, perhaps a tourist, and zoomed in on the smoking facade of Joe Raad's salon-- the hairdresser to the stars. "Where is Nancy Ajram going to get her hair done?" L. remarked. "Perhaps a rival beautician is behind this one."

"This can't be Al Qaeda. Why wouldn't they target Starbucks or Dunes mall instead of a side street?" I posited. "Al Qaeda don't do damage control. They aim for maximum casualties. Usually they ignite a bomb and then wait until the paramedics have arrived, then set another one off. If they did that in Beirut, with all the by-standers rushing to film the explosion on their cellphones, we'd really be screwed."

Twenty minutes later we were channel surfing again, in search of entertainment. "How short our attention is dedicated to such events. After twenty minutes we have already come to terms with it. It seems like old news."

The numbness has set in again. I woke up in the morning and looked at my reflection in the mirror. That slight tan, the detached gaze, the dusty early summer sunlight pouring in through the window-- it was all too reminiscent of last summer.

Somehow it's a relief to be absorbed entirely by outside events; you abandon all other concerns and complaints, when you see 15,000 desperate Palestinian refugees fleeing on foot and by car. But that knot in my stomach has returned-- that sensation of dread and helplessness. And anger.

I promised myself not to spend twenty-four hours a day glued to the TV. If something happens, I will know before it's broadcast on TV or over the Internet. In Lebanon, you either hear an explosion first hand, or someone calls you; at the very latest, a cab driver or shop keeper informs you. The Lebanese are professionals at rapidly dispensing information; everybody knows that you have to be the first to call, because the system will be overloaded within minutes, as an entire nation simultaneously messages and calls their friends and relatives.

The pressing need to know will eventually subside if this continues. Perhaps we will all go about our business during the day and ensure to be safely home before nightfall for the rest of the summer. Maybe we will experience a lull as the wheelings and dealings pick up behind the scenes.

It seems ironic that in a place with as many intricate and entrenched variables for conflict, a phantom group would appear on the scene as the greatest threat to stability. And at the end of the day, I suspect the moment will pass and Fatah al Islam will be overshadowed by other developments; their affiliation with Lebanese Salafists with whom highranking government officials enjoy close ties, will ensure that the threat is played down. A policy of "tolerating" them will ensue in exchange for God knows what. Or the Lebanese Army will announce "a victory"-- at what expense?-- and we will never see the evidence.

In the meantime, I will listen to sirens whiz by and try to predict where the next attack will occur. I will recall the nauseating patriotic display in the US after September 11th, and with a heavy heart accept that it is perhaps all too human to rally behind the troops and state apparatus, to so desire a simplistic narrative involving good and bad guys-- "our boys" versus "the terrorists" and their alleged Syrian sponsors, and to reap satisfaction in the futile display of indiscriminate and overwhelming force against "them", whoever they may be. Perhaps 40,000 helpless Palestinian civilians deserve a break.... You're either with us or you're with the terrorists, an idiot once said.

Dubious Militants & the Violated Sanctity of the Bathroom

2007-05-21T09:16:00.000+03:00

It's summertime and Lebanon is making headline news again. "Lebanon hit by worst violence since civil war" the first headline on the Google News aggregator screeches (as if the last summer never happened.)

Well it was about time. The events in Gaza were getting way too depressing. The rhetoric of "severe and harsh" responses, the "promise" of a painful escalation emanating from that profane hole in Olmert's face were just a tad too familiar. So it's time for something new and slightly more esoteric:

Fatah al Islam-- a kooky Salafist group, which nobody had heard about until recently-- has set up shop in the Nahr el Bared Palestinian refugee camp and is battling it out with the Lebanese army. The group apparently also own prime real estate in an upscale neighborhood of nearby Tripoli -- worth a million dollars and upwards-- which they used as snipers' nests during the house to house gun battles yesterday.

The fighting erupted early Sunday morning when soldiers raided an apartment inhabited by militants to arrest the suspected perpetrators of a bank robbery. Fatah al Islam subsequently stormed the army posts outside the camp, lining up and executing eleven soldiers. At least 47 dead in yesterday's clashes, without an updated casualty count from the besieged Nahr el Bared camp where 40,000 Palestinian refugees live. Fighting continued today.

Nobody really knows who Fatah al Islam are or what they want. Their members reportedly hail from as far as Saudi Arabia, Yemen and Bangladesh. They stand accused of having ties to Al Qaeda in Iraq and of carrying out the Ain Alaq bus bombing, which the group denies ( very un-qaeda'esque not to claim responsibility.) According to a spokesman, they seek to "protect the Sunnis of Lebanon" and a sheikh associated with them recently complained that only the Shi'a are allowed to yield weapons. The militant equivalent of penis envy, perhaps. Either way, they need better PR.

Saniora's government claims Fatah al Islam, a breakaway group of the Palestinian Fatah al Intifada, work for Syrian intelligence. Seymour Hersh writing in the New Yorker in January proposed an alternative explanation:

"Alastair Crooke, who spent nearly thirty years in MI6, the British intelligence service, and now works for Conflicts Forum, a think tank in Beirut, told me, 'The Lebanese government is opening space for these people to come in. It could be very dangerous.' Crooke said that one Sunni extremist group, Fatah al-Islam, had splintered from its pro-Syrian parent group, Fatah al-Intifada, in the Nahr al-Bared refugee camp, in northern Lebanon. Its membership at the time was less than two hundred. 'I was told that within twenty-four hours they were being offered weapons and money by people presenting themselves as representatives of the Lebanese government’s interests—presumably to take on Hezbollah,' Crooke said."

Apparently, Interior Minister Hassan Sabaa granted entry visas to 2,000 Al Qaeda-associated militants in December 2005 who never left Lebanon, but rather set up shop in that same camp. Read the rest of Hersh's piece to learn how Saad al Hariri intervened to release Salafist militants from prison. New TV just reported that a framed picture of al-Hariri was found in one of the homes of the militants in Tripoli. Oops!

This is all old news, of course, and the western media is doing us all a great disservice by blindly regurgitating the Saniora government's claims about Syrian sponsorship, and by ignoring these embarassing little details. Fatfat, the minister of Youth, Sports & Caffeinated Beverages, put in his two cents arguing that the violence was intended to derail the International Tribunal. Nayla Mouawad-- just now on CNN-- reiterated the same, and said something about no longer tolerating the "extra-territoriality" of the Palestinians. Lovely. The dumb bell CNN anchor who looked as confused as ever listening to the convoluted ramblings of Dame Nayla made it seem like Fatah al Islam represented the entire Palestinian nation in exile.

What seems clear is that whoever once sponsored or gave orders to Fatah al Islam has unleashed a beast they no longer control and a policy of trying to contain (or tolerate) the group is no longer working.

In the meantime, the army which is not allowed to enter Nahr el Bared, is shelling the camp "indiscriminately", according to a PFLP spokesman earlier today. The wounded are not receiving medical attention; fires are raging. "We want ambulances to be allowed into the refugee camp to transfer the civilian casualties. We also want fire brigades to enter the camp and put off the fire in many buildings." A cloud of black smoke envelopes the camp, and rescue workers who were trying to evacuate the wounded were fired upon.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Last night, I watched a cheesy thriller on TV as a respite from the bad news. My tolerance for cinematic suspense is low, a hereditary condition handed down by my mother who leaves the room at least 20 times in the course of an episode of "Columbo". After the movie, my friend M. went home and I went to the bathroom. With the ominous film soundtrack still ringing in my ear, I was just sitting down on the loo (excuse the details) when I decided that it was best to close the window behind me, so as not to have my back to it (they always attack from behind in movies.)

Suddenly I heard an extraordinary blast, which shook the whole bathroom. For a moment I thought the noise was in my head, that I has suffered some sort of brain tremor, that my vision was blurred and my ears were ringing from combusted brain cells. I heard something fall in the kitchen. I leaped up and ran into the living room to call my friend M. who had just left the house minutes earlier. By the time I dialed his number, he was pounding on the door.

"What was that?" "A massive explosion. There was glass breaking outside," he said, hurrying past me into the living room to turn on the TV.

There were no reports on TV, so we climbed up to the roof. Most of the neighbors were standing out on their balconies. Nobody spoke, except for the policemen who guard the minister's home across the street. They were frantically trying to re-assume their position in front of the house they are supposed to be guarding. Billows of black smoke and the smell of burning carbon filled the air.

I sent as many text messages as my shaking hand allowed-- to family and friends. Conflicting reports about the exact location of the bombing appeared on various news sites, until-- about forty-five minutes later-- it was established that a car bomb had exploded in a parking lot next to the ABC Achrafiye mall, just a few hundred meters away. The bomb tore a 3 m wide and 1/5 m deep radius into the ground. A wall collapsed on a 63-year old lady in her nearby apartment. 12 others were wounded by broken glass.

Lebanon is making headlines again; the Palestinians are bearing the brunt of it, and we are chain-smoking ourselves to death in the early summer sun.

The Evil of Banality: An alternative approach to the Virginia Tech Tragedy

2007-04-22T14:54:00.000+03:00

I've been following the saga of the Virginia Tech shooter with some fascination. Yes, it's a tragedy and no, the students' deaths are no less senseless and outrageous than -- just to name one example-- the 198 people who perished last Wednesday in Baghdad. Americans have come to expect that kind of violence in the less "civilized" parts of the world, so they are not shocked nor do they comprehend the grief of losing your child to liberation bombing or the "birth pangs" of a new Middle East. Most Americans don't shop at market places so the Baghdad market bombing seems remote, outlandish. They do however aspire to send their kids to college, which is why the killing spree of Seung-Hui Cho (misidentified as Cho Seung-Hui for the past week) qualifies as "senseless" while other more political tragedies are met with indifference (unless they claim the lives of "our boys").

For days now, every television station has broadcast the video clips Seung-Hui Cho mailed to NBC in between his morning and afternoon shooting rampages (with a disclaimer, of course; these "disturbing images" are being screened to satisfy your inner amateur psychoanalyst.) The emphasis is always on the pre-meditated factor of his killings; not a word on the presentation or content. "It shows he meticulously planned and carried out his murderous spree." No shit, sherlock.
The plays he wrote as an English major in college are available online. Not to encourage the starving and neglected playwrights out there to follow Cho's example and have their work widely read and critiqued, but always apologetically presented as further evidence of a disturbed and violent mind. People seek to comprehend why Cho committed these crimes. To prevent a similar tragedy from transpiring, creative writing instructors must henceforth learn to distinguish between assignments that reveal actual violent intent or just plain old shock value.

That violent intent is rather harmless without the liberal means to commit such an act (purchasing guns requires a five-minute transaction; ammunition is readily available 24/7 at your local superstore), is not up for discussion. Not over Bush's dead body.

Well here's my two cents on the disturbed and violent mind of Seung-Hui Cho:

Reading the plays and watching his video manifesto, it strikes me that the killer must have suffered an immense inner void. The dialogue in his plays is as lame as the plot, the violent episodes unoriginal ("You want me to stick this remote control up your ass, buddy?") and childish (stuffing a half-eaten candybar down somebody's throat.) Cho's play "Richard McBeef" is an astounding testament to a confused assimilation into American culture; his use of violent phrases and insults are muddled in their grammatical use and context, a bland and banal expression of unfocused rage. He might as well just have scrawled Shitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshit over 12 pages. Home Alone is fifty times as originally violent and macabre.

The video-taped manifesto is eery not only because of the violent intent it expresses but because his presentation seems so apathetic and insincere. For the most part he is seen reading off of a paper, stumbling over his own awkward cliche-riddled phrases: "You made me do this... I did this for my children." "Have you ever wondered what it feels like to have your throat slit from ear to ear?... Thanks to you I die like Jesus Christ, who inspired generations of the weak and the defenseless people." If Cho had auditioned for his own role as mass murderer in a play, he would not have gotten the part.

Seen from this angle, Cho's killing spree at Virginia Tech perhaps exemplifies the "evil of banality" and nothing more; that someone as empty and stupid as Cho can be driven to madness by his creative shortcomings. Cho's suicidal rampage could embody a case of mediocrity of the mind turned murderous. Hitler too was a bad artist and apparently frustrated and driven to megalomania by his lack of talent.

My father complained after two days of non-stop TV coverage that he was "profoundly bored" by the whole affair. I myself was slightly disgusted by the crowd roaring, "Go Hogies!" at the funeral service for the deceased, or whatever their silly varsity team is called. What did make me very very sad, is the public letter written by his sister and the interviews conducted with his ancient toothless great aunt in Seoul. "I loved my brother. Now I don't feel like I know that person anymore", his sister wrote. TV psychologist Dr. Phil generously recommended that one must have "sympathy" for the family for "they too require our support." May his victims rest in peace.

Ban Ki Moon, british sailors & the good news from Iraq

2007-04-11T19:42:00.001+03:00

I'm back.

I lost my sense of humor for two months and a few weeks, after watching fourteen year olds bash their skulls in during the "opposition" strike on January 23rd.

I left Lebanon the next day, chain-smoking in the cab en route to the airport, where I was finally made to part with the canister of tear gas I have been lugging around in my handbag for the past six years. The baggage screener smiled sympathetically when I told him that my concealed weapon had sentimental value-- it was with me when I departed JFK airport from New York a few days after the World Trade Center attacks ("Ma'am are you carrying nasal spray in your handbag?" the baggage checker asked me, to which I responded "naturally"); it was in my possession at Heathrow airport just a few days after the liquid bomb scare.

He didn't seem to care why I carry it in the first place, but rather inquired when I was coming back. "After yesterday? Perhaps never", I said, instantly regretting the bitterness of my response. Before I boarded the flight to Dubai my duty free purchases were handed to me in an "I love life" plastic bag. The final insult.

The following day a student brawl at Beirut Arab University turned bloody when snipers shot at students and army personnel. The surrounding neighborhoods were soon patrolled by militiamen who set up checkpoints. The army enforced a curfew for the first time in ten years. I got my first taste of what it's like to watch Lebanon descend into violence from a distance, surrounded by Lebanese who register the events with a pained resignation. Ever since then, I couldn't bring myself to contribute lofty "anecdotes" about the state of affairs in my favorite banana republic. And so I remained silent here on these pages.

Well my sense of humor is back thanks to Ban Ki Moon (try saying his name in a Scottish accent: Baan Key Muuuun). Mr. Moon apparently stepped out onto the balcony of his hotel room while he was visiting Beirut and expressed astonishment at the dazzling view of the "Atlantic Ocean."

One of my favorite features of living in Beirut is the frequent visits of expendable dignitaries such as the newly-crowned UN Secretary-General. I understand that it's hard to be briefed in short on the Lebanese mess. I don't blame Nancy Pelosi for spouting all that nonsense about the "historic Cedar Revolution." Everybody knows full well that she doesn't have a fucking clue what's going on here. But you do get a sense of how out of touch these world leaders are and how their words fall on hollow ears with the local population when you foolishly attempt to go from A to B while they are being shuttled around the city. The only tangible effect of their diplomatic efforts are excruciating traffic jams. I love waiting in the midst of angry cab drivers while the police and army block the streets. Then when a motorcade finally goes whizzing by everyone is outraged.

Ban Ki Moon's motorcade consisted of the usual jeeps and 4 x 4s filled with the nation's most able armed men. But Moon himself was whisked around in a low-riding Mercedes Compressor, to which my cab driver remarked, "A small car for a small man."

The rest of this post will be dedicated to my favorite masochistic pastime, watching CNN.

For the first three weeks of the July war, I couldn't bear to tune into Fionnuala Sweeney and Hala Gorani reporting from downtown Beirut. Late one night I caught a glimpse of Wolf Blitzer braving the "northern front" in a helicopter embedded with the IDF. I'd had enough. But by the third week of the war, during the "lull" when Israel concentrated its missiles and bombs on the south and out of my hearing range, I felt guilty for the increasing normalcy that returned to my three-block radius in Hamra. I wanted to share just a bit of the pain of people in the line of fire. And so I turned on CNN to hear their narration of the day's events.

Twenty-minutes of coverage that evening was devoted to 12 IDF reservist soldiers, struck by a katyusha missile in a parking lot in Galilee when they failed to heed to the warning sirens. That was followed by -- no, not extensive coverage of an airstrike in the Beirut neighborhood of Chiah in which 56 civilians perished when two apartment buildings were flattened -- but rather by the "Arab Anger Exclusive", which sought to answer the question on everyone's mind: Why are they so fucking angry?

Two weeks ago I again reached for the remote control and searched for CNN, curious to see their coverage of the British sailor hostage crisis. (Note that they are always referred to as "sailors" as if they weren't military personnel, but rather a jolly bunch of fishermen whose love of adventure drives them out to sea, time and time again.)

I happened to tune in just in time to catch CNN anchor Jonathan Mann narrate an "exclusive special" (they love specials, don't they?) on the Iranian Revolutionary Guards. Except that in this case the emphasis was on Iranian REVOLUTIONARY guards. "This isn't an ordinary army or batallion, Sue," that blue-eyed lout told the other anchor. "Much like the PARTY of GOD Hez-bow-laaa, the REVOLUTIONARY guards are..." and so on and so forth. Doesn't that just strike fear in your heart? These REVOLUTIONARY guards want to deprive your children of their well-earned right to consume cookies and milk and spend slothful hours in front of the TV.

Notice also that CNN anchors always strike a cheerful tone when announcing the bad news. "FIVE-HUNDRED people were killed at a fishmarket in Baghdad today" comes right on the heels of "Billy Sue McGee miraculously lost FIVE-HUNDRED pounds on the new tape worm diet." Get off the prozac, I say. They also have regular specials entitled "The Good News from Iraq", where they interview three little girls at a dance school in Irbil who are finally fulfilling their life-long dream of learning ballet. Just now there was a "special" on university students. A CNN anchor visited a class at Baghdad University. She asked the students if they identify as Iraqis first rather than Shia, Sunni or Kurd. Many of the students shook their heads. The anchor concluded that "Yes, yes, yes, they feel Iraqi" and that there is "hope" in this classroom.

CNN's obsession with Ahmadinijad almost trumps that of AIPAC. Frequently I have heard the newscaster confuse Iran with Iraq. A few days ago I was watching the weather report when the world map behind the weather woman was suddenly replaced with a full-screen picture of Ahmadinijad raising a clenched fist in the air. The weather woman continued to detail the tsunami warning for the southern Pacific to this backdrop of pure evil.

Finally I would like to say that I have nothing but contempt for the ruling elite in this country. The last months have proven beyond a shadow of doubt that while street-level violence might seem spontaneous, it is in fact always ordered and controlled from above. The streets of Beirut are as calm are as ever while the respective war lords, semi-mortal cultish clerics and heirs to their political thrones battle it out in Riyadh and on TV.

At the end of Nasrallah's most recent televised address, I didn't like his ceremonial kissing of children and the revering shower of kisses on the forehead he received. Call me squeamish, but it reminded me of Stalin or Hitler. I was almost waiting for that scene from "The Great Dictator" where Charlie Chaplin (as Hitler) picks up a little child for the cameras and it pees on him. Also I'm glad that gigantic billboard where he is depicted raising the back of his hand has been removed from Fuad Chehab bridge in downtown and on the airport road. Humility goes a long way in my book. And I, too, am a people of the book. Whatever that means. I like saying it.

Who wants the Truth?

2007-03-15T10:50:00.000+02:00

According to New TV, Sergei Brammertz's latest report reveals which countries are refusing to cooperate with the Hariri investigation. Here is a line-up of the truthseekers:

That's France, Israel, the US, Jordan, the UK, Saudi Arabia, Germany and a few others (supposedly Iraq and another Gulf country.) Enjoy your tribunal with an "international character".

2007-03-06T12:16:00.000+02:00

Sirens & Stagnancy
I barely pay attention to the hysterical wailing of sirens whizzing by, perhaps on their way to diffuse bombs planted in potato-chip bags or to remove a crate of TNT deposited next to an overflowing garbage vat. I no longer ponder why the Lebanese security agencies successfully hunt down liquid bomb detonators and uncover terrorist cells and spy networks, but fail to resolve a single assassination case. When I opened the newspaper over my morning coffee I chuckled at the suspect sketch issued a year-and-a-half after an unsuccessful attempt on Elias Murr's life. I am enjoying the stagnant calm.

The suspect has short dark hair, a smudge on his forehead, and a rather sullen expression. If you recognize him, you know what to do.

Occasionally I mistake the late-night chorus of screaming cats, screeching tires, slammed doors and raised voices with an ominous sign that the lull is over. But I reassure myself that whatever happens will catch me by surprise, at a moment when my mind has drifted from politics to the banal-- plans for dinner, or during a weekend out of town. In Lebanon you can theoretically ignore the news and rely on your friends and acquaintances to inform you of momentous developments by text message.

The young men slugging it out for their respective sects and feudal lords have no say in any matter, despite the vitriolic hatred they muster towards each other. Riyadh, Mukhtara, the White House and Tehran, et al. will ultimately decide what's best for you and yours.

In a recent interview, Saniora made no secret of this when he called for the "eleventh" cabinet member to be hand-picked by the Saudi King. The Saudi Ambassador to Lebanon rejected Siniora's suggestion: “Regarding PM Al-Sanyurah’s proposition that Saudi Arabia names the eleventh minister, Khoja said: 'With all due respect to PM Al-Sanyurah whom we appreciate, respect and trust, we do not interfere in such issues. Maybe PM Al-Sanyurah said that out of his love for Saudi Arabia.'" What's there to love? Yuck.

The "opposition" botched the timing and ends of their bid for increased power. By giving the pro-government forces the time to conspire with the White House to draw Hezbollah into a sectarian internal feud, by begging for crumbs, they lost momentum and meaning. Their sit-in has become as watered down and senseless as any other choreographed spectacle. The lifeless tents in downtown are surrounded by the 24-hour buzz of Solidere's inequitable construction enterprise. In villages in the south, people squat a single room in a bombed out house, they live crowded into the homes of extended families and neighbors; in Dahiye bombed out crater holes serve as massive garbage depots, while Solidere erects more unaffordable luxury housing and commercial buildings a t a frightening pace, unperturbed by the opposition's trivial demands. The cruel foundations of dispossession and privatization upon which Solidere was established, the iron grip of the embezzlers and warlords whose faces adorn every billboard and building in the country remain unchallenged by this "opposition". And still their demands are not met! Siniora will infuriatingly remain the unabashed kind of his castle, until someone in a far away capital blows the whistle.

But any settlement between the government and opposition would leave open the door for so many variables of violence. If Jumblatt is betrayed, what then? Will the Lebanese be satisfied if Berri and Hariri agree on a "no victor, no vanquished" formula, if the ruling class goes back to sharing Syrian sweets for the cameras around a roundtable?

"March 11th" is as conceptually preposterous as Lebanese political movements come, not to mention the irony that this date coincides with the anniversary of the 2003 Madrid train bombing. As if this country needs another silly date, another demonstration, another flag to parade under; as if a sectarian middle ground exists.

On Friday night, I sat outside a cornerstore in Gemmayze with a few young men from the Internal Security Forces. They readily accepted my friend's invitation to share a bottle of vodka (I don't drink that stuff). One of the young men, Bashir, age nineteen supports Aoun; the other young man who he is on duty with is follows the Lebanese Forces. "We are like brothers. We would never fight. That is why I hate my job. But there are no other jobs. Otherwise I would never work for them," Bashir said. Their captain arrived and swigged from the bottle before he drove off to quell a disturbance somewhere.

Sectarian school outings
My friend R., a teacher at a snazzy private high school, recently took his students on a paint ball outing. Instantly they organized into political factions-- PSP and Future versus Hezbollah and FPM. "It was like a prelude to the war", R. said with characteristic exasperation. Whenever a student was hit by a paintball and -- as per the rules-- had to leave the game, his fellow party members would instead use him as a human shield.

Natural Selection
A friend who teaches at AUB overheard two of her students discussing her class. One of them was complaining that he had to drop the writing course she teaches because of a conflict in his schedule. The other student responded, "Drop the other class instead. This teacher, she's from the M. family. They are from Baalbek." (The assumption being that they are Shia.)

Mandate
I., a Palestinian born in Lebanon, volunteers as an architect down south in Aita Shaab, a village on the Lebanese-Israeli border . His father came down to visit. They drove to the border village Marwaheen, because --they say-- you have a view all the way down the coast, to Haifa. A UNIFIL jeep pulled up next to them (you rarely see UNIFIL outside of their armored vehicles.) The UNIFIL soldier told I. and his father that they couldn't stand there and look. I. asked, "Why not? It's forbidden to look?" "Yes," the UNIFIL soldier responded. "Who gave you those orders?" I. asked. "The Israelis," the soldier replied. "They don't want you to stand here and look." "Well this is my country and that is my country. So I should be allowed to look, shouldn't I?" I. rebutted. The UNIFIL soldier shook his head, and waited in his armored vehicle until I. and his father complied, and drove off.

Mandate II
I have been following the misconduct of a certain guard stationed near Hariri's palace in Qoreitem. Dressed in plain clothes, this blimp-like imposing figure takes pleasure in humiliating and occasionally smacking around Syrian workers-- street cleaners, bottle collectors, and long-term employees at local establishments. Two days ago I watched him apprehend a young boy, no older than nine, who might have looked Syrian to his scrutinizing gaze. Perhaps some of you March 14th supporters would like to report this to your goateed zaim? Unless of course these security measures are absolutely imperative...

Priorities of a Ne'er existent state
The south is in shambles; reconstruction is slow, funding is politicized and additionally complicated by the pervasive pessimism that another war with Israel is on the horizon. Living between adjacent generations of rubble does not inspire confidence in a better future. Apparently some school children in Aita Shaab are refusing to study for their exams or to apply for universities, because they are sure the war will start soon enough.

The new face of chocolate

The boy whose face adorned the Kinder chocolate package for 32 years has been replaced
with a little goody-two-shoes punk ass who probably doesn't let people copy his homework.

I grew up in Germany; I know his type.

I am boycotting Kinder, and I suggest you do the same. Change for the sake of it is frequently good, but not in the case of Kinder's packaging. I feel my childhood being torn asunder.

Meanwhile, Emir Peretz is busy trying to retroactively christen Israel's misadventure in Lebanon this past summer. Initially coined "Operation Just Reward", the 34-day bombing campaign was apply re-named "Operation Change of Direction" by the army when things started looking bleak. That doesn't suit the families of the fallen IDF soldiers, who don't want to bury their sons under some lame wishy-washy title-- "Schlomo G. 1987-2006 fell in southern Lebanon due to a royal fuckup."

How about "Operation Kidnap the Grocer"? Please e-mail any suggestions to Knesset member Yaakov Everi by Monday at yedri@knesset.gov.il.

Acute shortage of good guys

2007-03-04T20:06:00.000+02:00

"We're all orphans without Joseph," H. a young journalist at Al Akhbar said as we stood outside the Church of St. John Chrysostomos on Damascus Road before the service began. He looked exhausted, emotionally undone. A few hundred people-- colleagues, friends, readers, admirers, some dignitaries -- Aoun, Berri, Saniora and Lahoud sent representatives, and members of the Lebanese Communist Party gathered on Sunday to bury Joseph Samaha. His body was returned from London less than 24 hours before the burial, where he suddenly passed away last week.

Inside the Church we overheard a man telling his friend: "Everyone here is either black or white. They are either terribly sad or secretly happy to see him go." The flag-bearing CP members stayed outside during the service. Rounds of prayers for his soul were conducted by a gaggle of clergy men. A priest spoke, rather loudly. He said Joseph's presence was needed up there, for he tells the truth, and they, too, need a newspaper. He also said, "we waited for you to go to drag you to Church... Even if you don't believe, the Church is like a mother who is proud of her sons. No matter what." Then Yakoub Sarraf, the resigned Minister of the Environment, bestowed an award of presidential recognition on behalf of President Lahoud.

Eventually people poured in to lay a bouquet-- a single yellow rose and a red feather bound together-- on his coffin. Then the pallbearers-- young journalists, colleagues, family members and admirers-- seized his coffin, raised it above their heads, and carried out the church doors and down the steps. Handfuls of rose petals were thrown over the coffin as it made its way towards the graveyard.

The young men shouldering the coffin-- it was as if they were seizing responsibility for the sudden vacuum left by Joseph Samaha's departure. This country --or perhaps this age-- suffers from an acute shortage of good guys. Maybe it's always been that way. We couldn't afford Joseph's loss, but now there are shoes to fill. A close colleague who went to London to bring back his body mumbled, we have to continue our work. It is the best thing for Joseph. He said it as he had been repeating it to himself for days on end.

As I stood in the back of the Church listening to the prayers I thought long and hard about the term "martyr", which still confuses me, in all its nuances and intended meanings. I don't agree with the pedestal martyrdom is placed on. Or perhaps I only appreciate the term in its narrowest sense, as a way to lend meaning to the death of a young man who has died fighting for his freedom and dignity. Joseph Samaha wasn't a martyr-- cigarette smoking and a hereditary heart condition do not lend meaning to his untimely death. But what if his death serves to mobilize people into action, to take over in his spirit, where he left off?

Perhaps he was lucky to have left the way he did, rather than as a consequence of his refusal to live by strict security measures.

The people mourning Joseph in the Church were also mourning the state of the country. Every person present yesterday exuded a profound loneliness, the loneliness of living without Joseph's friendship, his words and thoughts, his support. H., the young journalist at Al Akhbar, went on and on about how supportive Joseph was when he penned his first pieces.

That's all you'll hear from me in the form of sentimental revery.

Visa requirements, carpet lovers & checkpoints galore

2007-02-26T17:07:00.000+02:00

Beirut International Airport. February 25th, 2007. 12:55 AM.

"Welcome."
"Thank you. I'm very happy to be back."
"Where are you coming from?"
"Dubai." (I signaled the urge to vomit.)
"You like Lebanon?"
"Yes. Too much."
"Will there be a war?"
"Yes, I fear so."
"No, don't say this. Will there be a war?"
"Inshallah la. (God willing, no)".
He smiled, stamped my passport and half-a-dozen other forms and handed it back to me.
"Welcome, welcome."

It's been weeks since I posted anything substantive. I left for the Emirates and smug Europe without saying goodbye (no point in calling it "old" to a Mediterranean audience), and upon my return the what-is-occupation lobby had paid me a visit in the form of dozens of redundant comments.

Bugger off, will you? Aren't you busy smashing up Nablus?

At Beirut airport, I was handed an "I love life" plastic bag with my sinful duty free purchases. Right outside the airport, a massive billboard depicting a neat row of Lebanon's elite martyrs towered above me. The culture of life indeed. "What is this? A police line up?" I asked my friend L. who kindly picked me up from the airport. "No, it's the Spice girls," she responded. "That's scary spice and that's wealthy spice...." And so on and so forth. The Sri Lankan maid killed in the February 13th Metn bus bombing was curiously absent.

I noticed before I left that Elie Hobeika's martyr billboards were hung in Ein Mreisse and other neighborhoods in Ras Beirut (in time for the anniversary of his assassination.) I guess his murderous machismo holds a cross-sectarian appeal. The resurrection of Hobeika sums up March 14th quite nicely for me. Along with this lovely list and the slogan, "We are against sectarianism, but God is with the Sunnis."

In addition to the opposition's co-opting of the preposterous, hypocritical "I love life" slogan ("in color", albeit in a lower color resolution,) the private sector has followed suit. Iwan Maktabi now runs "I love carpets" advertisements. And there's also "I love fish" and "I love life-- in diamonds". (Carpets -- in American vernacular-- is a reference to female pubic hair.)

hat tip: Liliane

hat tip

Yesterday Suleiman Franjieh accused a member of the Lebanese Forces killing Pierre Gemayel ("the prince of youth", according to the poet-in-residence at the Grand Serail.) The Lebanese Forces refuted his claim as "baseless" and accused Franjieh of violating the "code of honor" agreement signed by Christian leaders from opposing factions. (No "yo momma" jibes and swearing in front of the kids.)

I suppose that amounts to a denial. Speaking of "baseless", Siniora used the same term today to refute Seymour Hersh's claim that his government is cooperating with US covert operations in Lebanon.

In regards to Lebanon's long bloody history of assassinations and indiscriminate attacks, I will make the following analogy:

Let's say Pierre and Susie are having a lovers' quarrel in a restaurant. Susie gets up and yells at Pierre, "I'll strangle you if i catch you ogling that blond waitress again." Many people in the restaurant overhear this. An awkward silence sets in. I now have a scapegoat, an alibi for killing Pierre, who I secretly resent for his athletic build and boyish good looks (I am a man in this case.) Then Pierre's corpse is found a few days later, floating face down in a swimming pool, strangulation marks on his neck. Everyone will blame Susie. Right?

It is not to be excluded that-- in many cases--- the "obvious" party might in fact not be responsible. I am suspicious when Marwan "Dick Cheney" Hamade rushes to attribute the bus bombing in Elias Murr's home village to the recent confiscation of Hezbollah's weapons. Hamade added that whoever bombed the commuter buses was also responsible for the assassinations of Hariri, Samir Kassir, Gebran Tueni, etc.

Really? That doesn't follow. The bus attack was the first of its kind in decades and Hezbollah doesn't bomb busses in Israel, so why would they do it in Lebanon? I know who I suspect and I'll leave it at that... I wouldn't want to violate the "code of honor" that I signed secretly and bilaterally with each individual za'im at the Patriarch's behest.

There are army and Internal Security Forces' checkpoints all over town, within a few hundred meters of each other. On Saturday night a checkpoint was erected outside Element nightclub, as the army goes about protecting the state's most valuable institutions.

But militia checkpoints are also becoming a facet of life again. Many incidents of violence are going unreported or underreported. Everyone has a checkpoint story to share with you over coffee. My friend R. who works at a fancy private school in a Druze village was confronted by a black-clad young man, roughly 19-years old, armed with a machine gun who demanded to see his papers. When he refused, the young man became very agitated and angry. Only when an elderly man who knows R. intervened did he let him pass. R. also reports that his friend Elias who lives near Antillias drove through a Lebanese Forces checkpoint. They ordered him to shave his beard. He now carries a gun in his glove compartment. "Everyone is armed now," R. said.

At night young men in cars cruise the streets at top speed. There are hardly any women out and about, even on a Saturday night in Gemmayze. A collective malaise and unease has gripped my friends and acquaintances. I recognize the war mode, familiar from this summer, in people's hardened expressions.

Seventy-five businesses (roughly half) have reportedly closed in downtown Beirut since the beginning of the opposition sit-in in December. And there's no end in sight. While I still think the opposition's demands are too trivial (i.e. a bigger share of the same rotten pie), the stakes are getting higher and higher with the Siniora government's refusal to give into (at least) half the population's demands. They're not asking for much, but alas! Siniora's hands are tied.

Hezbollah can't put more pressure on the government without risking a very serious escalation. Now that Jumblatt and Geagea have unleashed their dormant penchant for sniping, incitement to violence, blackmail and the militia way-of-life, it seems Hezbollah's will not remain forever restrained by the threat of Sunni-Shia violence. They bear the greatest burden and have the most to lose if the conflict takes on that flavor (in regional standing, as well,) and March 14th have knowingly used it in their favor. Neither side can back down. Where does that leave us?

Joseph Samaha, the Editor-in-Chief of Al Akhbar, passed away yesterday in London at the age of fifty-eight. The tragedy of his untimely departure is no lesser because his life wasn't taken by violent means. He will be sorely missed. He had a very reassuring presence (when I met him briefly,) and while I only read his columns in translation, I know from his many loyal readers and admirers that he was a proverbial gem amongst columnists. He was a man of integrity, F. said. It's odd how the sudden withdrawal of someone's creative output can utterly unnerve you.

Joseph Samaha (1949-2007)

Nureed el Haqiqah (We want the Truth)

2007-02-13T00:07:00.000+02:00

Lan Nansa, Anna-Nicole Smith (1967-2007)

Someone please start a petition to the UN for an international tribunal to try the drug dealers who supplied Anna Nicole with a lethal overdose.

2007-02-09T14:49:00.000+02:00

2007-02-09T14:41:00.000+02:00

"Excavations" near the Ala Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem

Israel could replace the star-of-david on the flag with a bulldozer.

2007-01-12T19:39:00.000+02:00

Celebrate your love for Aishti* and unbridled capitalism at Biel on January 25th. (Thank you Rasha and Lina.)

*an overpriced clothing store.

Spies, "intellectual terrorism" & Paris III

2007-01-07T16:19:00.000+02:00

In Lebanon, politics either take the form of spectacle (bombing, mass demonstrations, assassinations, street clashes) or under-the-table deals. We are now coming out of the latter phase, which was pleasantly uneventful. Ariel Sharon has been in a permanent "vegetative" state for over a year now. Walid Jumblatt ought to be declared clinically insane.

I am told by the well-connected Shia sitting next to me that four Israeli fighter jets tried to hijack the plane in which Hezbollah Deputy-General Naim Qassim was returning to Lebanon from the Hajj, and to force it to land in Israel. The Saudi royals intervened because Qassim was their guest and this would have not reflected well on the guardians of the two holy sites. Apparently nobody has reported this, even though it transpired days ago. As I have no way to confirm this, I am reporting this as evidence of how the offspring of politicians barter "insider" information to impress members of the opposite sex.

Yesterday's protest by the labor unions and opposition near the Ministry of Finance attracted a miniscule crowd. I can no longer tell if I'm watching re-runs of other protests when I turn on the TV. The protesters were far outnumbered by the army and police who blocked off and patrolled all the surrounding roads and highways. 95% of the protesters were male; a large number, security staff and kaak salesmen. I don't understand the opposition's strategy. The sit-in downtown, now in it's fifth week, and the "escalation" with smaller groups blocking the roads and intersections near ministries, amounts to nothing more than a nuisance. Since they can't afford further escalation which might end in bloodshed or confrontations with the army and police, they will achieve nothing, except roadrage from exasperated commuters and cab drivers. Unlike the teacher's union protest in May, which drew participants from all sects, yesterday's demonstration was clearly a Shia-Aounist affair.

The Daily Telegraph reports that the CIA received a green light to conduct covert actions against Hezbollah.

Crossing Fuad Chehab bridge during my daily pilgrimage to Hamra I noticed that a car had broken through the railing on the highway overlooking Riad el Solh Square (the site of the opposition sit-in). The car must have landed just feet away from the tents housing the protesters. Someone driving a Hummer had too much to drink.

Returning from Hamra, I told the driver to drop me near Mistachfa Roum (the Orthodox hospital). Every passenger we picked up en route requested a ride to a different hospital in Achrafiye. We sneezed and coughed in unision. The driver was amused and seemed unperturbed by the sheer concentration of bacteria in his car.

For the record, Michael Totten-- after whom Tottenism is named-- is a bigotted simpleton, a beggar and a paranoid ill-informed fool. And he thinks he's a good writer. In the comments section on his blog, he compares himself to Fisk and (indirectly) to Orwell. At best his writing resembles Tom Friedman's, riddled with mixed metaphors and annoying cliches. Totten needn't actually travel; his opinions are unbending, pre-contrived, and governed by the "American national interest". Which is not only boring but downright offensive, and reminds me of an all-too familiar saying: "Yes, but is it good for the Jews?" A rhetorical question appropriate to every dilemma-- from political crises to the rising price of toilet paper-- it reveals a frightful tribalistic mindset. And in my opinion, Israel is not good for the Jews, so why worry about anything else? By that same measure, American national interest is not an approriate lens through which to view and judge the rest of the world. "Hard-headed liberal", my ass.

Totten can't distinguish between the people (or terrorists, as he sees them) and the party he holds in contempt because they shout "Death to America!" I, too, am an American passport-holder and I can think of better reasons to dislike Hezbollah. He must have terrible nightmares about Shia children shouting anti-American slogans.

I have now added him four times to my sidebar under "scoundrels". If I was an ultra-Orthodox rabbi I would declare a "pulsa danura" against him. He e-mailed me once to procure a free contribution to his pamphlet-book, alleging that he would not profit from the venture. But on Amazon it says that 20% of the proceeds from the pamphlet-book go to supporting his writing. Needless to say, I declined. I couldn't live with myself if I had unwittingly contributed to Michael Totten's hate-mongering against "militant" toddlers.

I don't understand enough about economics to give you a qualified rundown of why Paris III stinks. But the type of structural adjustment reforms that Siniora proposes did an excellent job of plunging much of Africa and South America into debt and poverty in the 1980s, and have been largely discredited by most reasonable economists.

But I have overheard people expressing enthusiasm for Paris III. Is it possible that some March 14th supporters believe that all the theft and waste of the post-Taef era was due to the Syrian presence, and that these same embezzlers would not line their pockets with new "soft cash loans"? Paris III will offer the ruling coalition a symbolic victory, in the form of a "generous" donation that will do little to alleviate the economic and political crisis.

Saad Hariri complains that Lebanon faces "a new wave of political and intellectual terrorism that coincides with the ongoing preparations" for the Paris III conference. You heard correctly.
Only someone who seriously doubts his own mental abilities could bemoan the threat posed by "intellectual terrorism." What's the remedy? Book-burning? Hariri is desperate to buy up the remaining public industries for chump change. Any argument against unbridled privatization makes his little head throb.

Friday night I was at a bar in Gemmayze. An acquaintance of a friend, a young American of Lebanese descent, struck up a conversation. Thirty seconds into our smalltalk, he gave me a funny look. "Are you perhaps from Germany?" He continued, "You know I think you were kicked out of my house once." I was puzzled and told him that I have NEVER been kicked out of anyone's house, not even when I was fourteen and puked on my friend's carpet from drinking too much tequila. He insisted that yes, his cousin had kicked me out of his house a few months ago, while he was out of town. "You said something about throwing all the cedars into the sea. He looks like me. Don't you remember?" I scrutinized him, noted the resemblance, and recalled the following incident:

Sometime in early May, my former roommate, R. from South Africa, was visiting Beirut. We were out in Gemmayze, and R. who had had too much to drink was sloppily kissing some dubious character with long greasy locks at the bar. He kept telling her he was Italian; it struck me as odd that a Lebanese would try to pick up a foreigner by telling her he was from Europe. When their open-mouthed kissing became the focus of much of the bar's attention, I decided it was time to go home.

I dragged said friend R. out onto the street and hailed a servis to Hamra. She wanted to eat at Zatar & Zeit on Bliss Street. Two young men, preppy Americans in khakis and striped shirts, got in the cab. They told us they both worked for USAID eradicating poppy fields in Afghanistan. And now one of the two, who said he was Lebanese but spoke no more than a few words of Arabic, had relocated to Beirut. I shall refer to him as Lebanese Yank. His friend Jack B. remarked, "Can you believe these broads?" as if we were in som bad 1950s American movie, set in the parking lot of a drive-in movie theater.

Anyway, they ended up joining us at Zatar & Zeit, and the Lebanese yank invited us to eat our manakeesh in his garden just down the road. My friend R. was quite enamored with Jack B. So we walked to their house. Soon R. was asleep, her head face down in Jack B.'s lap.

The Lebanese Yank and I discussed politics, while Jack B. was preoccupied with the mop of hair in his lap. It was evident that we disagreed on almost all counts, on the success of the "Cedar Revolution". He was enamored with March 14th, the economy's performance, the country's stability, US designs and intervention in the region at large. The conversation ensued politely at first, until he raised his voice and cut me off mid-sentence. "Women shouldn't talk politics! You don't know any Lebanese people. You don't know anything!" Suddenly I became very angry. I shouted that if the US invades Iran it will be stupid people like him, who attended community colleges in middle America and now work for the CIA or front agencies like USAID, with little to no knowledge of the language and country, who pretend to be natives, who will be to blame. His jaw dropped, which amused me greatly.

Since I had no desire to further indulge my rage, I got up to leave, grabbed my jacket and told R. that we were leaving. "Why?" she asked raising her head from Jack B's lap. "Because they work for the CIA." "Are they going to kill us?" "No," I said helping to disengage her from Jack B's crotch. I turned back to the Lebanese Yank and held a final fiery oration, denouncing his proxy nationalism for a country he barely knows, the embezzlers and killers he admires, the near-extinct cedars, and disgusting conditional terms of USAID aid packages.

I turned to leave. "Hey. Don't leave! We can drink a few more beers," he insisted. "I do not drink beer with people like you. We have nothing further to say to you," I snapped, and bundled my friend R. out the front door. Jack and Lebanese Yank followed us out onto the street, yelling at us to come back. My friend R. was confused. "You have to explain all this to me in the morning," she mumbled.

Fast forward to friday night. The cousin of Lebanese Yank claims I was "kicked out" of their house, which is patently untrue. The fury I reserve for rabid American zionists and Michael Totten overwhelmed me. I found myself reiterating the same accusations, about USAID being a front organization for the CIA. "Your cousin is political scum," I informed him, waving my hands in the air. The cousin looked a little startled, and evidently regretted having raised the issue. "Let's agree. You were not kicked out of our house, and you are always welcome there. We are hospitable people! But my cousin does not work for the CIA." I think I told him I would burn his house down before I set foot in there again, and that he was lucky I didn't report his cousin. "You really are crazy," he exlaimed and suggested we have a drink to forget about the whole thing. I accepted, but only because my friend-- who had initially introduced me to Lebanese Yank's cousin-- shot me that, "Please don't do this to me now" look. The rest of the evening transpired amicably.

I am becoming soft in my old age. I'm twenty-five this year. By the time I'm fifty, I'll be downing cocktails with the retired Jeff Feltman.

Good Riddance 2006 & 'I Love Life' Goons

2007-01-02T16:06:00.000+02:00

Happy 2007 and good riddance 2006.

I have never been gripped by such unease on the eve of the new year, nor have I experienced a collective malaise in anticipation of the impending political escalation. Should one be grateful for the respite politicians politely granted for the holiday season? I don't make much of the Lebanon's "diviners"-- whose predictive powers are held in high esteem. (2006 was going to be a "hot summer." Duh.) But the shit-hit-the-fan talk does coincide with an abundance of regional disaster scenarios. A US/Israeli attack against Iran still tops my list.

The jury is still out on the White House's record-- if the destruction unleashed in the region is due to sheer arrogant incompetence or a grander lucrative "controlled chaos" plan to fuel sectarian and factional violence. Or a combination of the two. Perhaps this year will tell. Don't promise yourselves too much from Pelosi's reign.

I had an illuminating meeting with Sayyid Hassan's favorite "foreign journalist". If I take the man by his word then the hawks are willing to use any means to keep Hezbollah from increasing its share of power in the government. You don't need the Lebanese Forces hustler Michel Hayek to tell you that there will be more assassinations.

Needless to say I did not attend the "I love life" festivities at Biel, despite my voyeuristic instincts and occasional desire to mutilate my senses. Nor was I downtown with "the people".

You don't need to go to the official event to suffer noxious exposure to their campaign. They obstruct traffic with their "I love life" promotional trucks and their "martyr" Christmas trees are a sorry sight. Walid Jumblatt and Samir Geagea love life? I noticed that Dani Chamoun has a martyr tree downtown, too. I wonder who killed him?

I nearly had a violent altercation with some of the life-loving elves who were blocking my path in Achrafiye. They offered me a pamphlet, which I politely refused. They persisted. I told them that I find the whole campaign sickening. Within seconds a mob of rabid elves descended upon me, accusing me of loving death and being a Hezbollah sympathizer. It felt like some sick twist on the "Night before Christmas" story.

Apparently some people don't know that "I love life" is a March 14th ploy. One friend who recently returned from Beirut mistook the massive billboards for Exotica ads.

"I love life" mission statement reads, "We believe that Lebanon stood up to all angst because it has always embraced the Culture of Life." Really? Always?

"We understand the Culture of Life, as opposed to the Culture of Death, as a deep, well-developed sense capable of discerning true values and interpreting authentic needs in our communities and society."

Well that all sounds fine and dandy, indicative of the blossoming "maturity" of Lebanon's political culture. The former bloodletters and Syrian stooges are desperately prying themselves free from the "forces of darkness" (to quote that madhatter Jumblatt). Jumblatt now accuses Iran of a "Zionist"-like plot to buy up real estate under "false names" in his neck of Mount Lebanon. What a paranoid wreck. Things must not be looking good for Walid Beik.

The "culture of death" of course refers to the Shia who all want to martyr their children for Imam Hussein and plunge this country into perpetual war. How can you say you're either with us or you worship death? Hey poor people, we love life and unbridled capitalism. Get with the program!

The tent arrangments in downtown now resemble a semi-permanent slum city. Tarps have been hitched to the walls of nearby ruins and construction sites. And some tents are even equipped with satellite dishes. There area is almost deserted during the day, perhaps due to the recent cold spell. Many of the steadfast revellers lost their homes during the war and the government isn't doing anything for them. Paris III won't do anything for them. A heated tent isn't worse than crashing with the neighbors or sharing an overcrowded apartment.

I watched a film entitled "Notes on War" by Maya Mikdashi last night. The filmmaker(s) conducted interviews with displaced people in schools and shelters during the summer war. It was a sobering reminder of those "invisible people" who were most effected by this war, how utterly helpless they were, ignored and abandoned by the government. Many of them railed against the Arab states whose complicity in the campaign to "eliminate" Hezbollah wasn't lost on them. Some of the interviews reminded me of the squandered"non-sectarian" potential of present in every class and sector of Lebanese society. "Squandered" because these people are constantly pushed around, forced to seek help from their own, categorized and marginalized by sect.

An older lady who suffered a severe eye infection during the war was interviewed. She recounted visiting Nayla Moawad's house, to ask the Minister for help. The guard at the door asked if she was "Sunni" or "Shia". When she told him she was nothing, he told her to go see Nabih Berri. "My husband and children are Sunni! I don't want Nabih Berri. I don't want Hassan Nasrallah. I want someone to treat my eye," she complained. Eventually she traveled to Syria to seek medical treatment and returned to the shelter in Lebanon. She spoke about how dissappointed she was with the inept Siniora.

Yesterday evening at the height of rush hour I spent a good 45 minutes stuck in a traffic jam on Fouad Chehab bridge, just above downtown. The army had blocked off all the surrounding streets bringing the entire area to a standstill. And so people turned off their engines and got out of their cars to see what all the fuss was about. Finally, the Turkish Prime Minister's motorcade whizzed by at a million miles an hour. This enraged the hapless drivers who furiously honked and yelled, as if to say, "Spare us your hollow diplomacy, asshole! You're wasting our time!"

It reminded me why I love this city and brought to mind stories about the late Hariri's obnoxious motorcade blocking cellphone reception and causing traffic jams everywhere he went. When I first arrived in Beirut, someone told me that the widespread outrage with Hariri's security measures was enough to get anyone killed.

Sectarian Venom & Cynical Christmas Greetings

2006-12-20T16:37:00.000+02:00

The hapless Amr Moussa is back to save the Lebanese zuama from eachother. Nobody knows what's going to happen from one day to the next. Adapting to this atmosphere of uncertainty, many Lebanese are doing a phenomenal job of buckling down, shopping, partying and forgetting about politics.

Denial is not a river in Egypt; it's a shopping mall in Achrafiye. ABC is reporting record sales as are all the off-downtown businesses and restaurants. Future Movement has put up christmas trees along the periphery of downtown decorated with "I love life" ribbons. We wouldn't want the "culture of death" to ruin our Christmas cheer.

A friend who teaches at a snazzy private school outside Beirut reports that when a Shia student misbehaves, the other teachers attribute it to typical "Shia behavior". He says this attitude predates the summer war; the only difference is that his Shia students are no longer shamed by the prejudice against them, but rather proud and defiant.

In Germany we have something called the "Weinachtsmarkt", which runs from December 1st until the new year. White tents are pitched to serve as booths, food and drinks are available, and entertainment is provided, all in a central area. In Beirut, we have the opposition sit-in in the center of the city, which has become a venue for affordable entertainment. My friend, the teacher, reports that his Shia students tease the others by boasting of the cheap narghileh they enjoyed at the "new downtown". Apparently the Shia boys go to to meet Aounist girls, but all the students have to leave the encampment by a certain hour on week nights.

His Sunni students have adopted the following slogan for their MSN messenger profiles: "If we ruled by majority, we would be ruled by cockroaches." Cockroaches = baby-making Shia.

And there you have it. This is an adaptation of Henry Kissinger's infamous comment, after the Chileans voted for Allende in the 1970s: "I don't see why we need to stand by and watch a country go Communist because of the irresponsibility of its own people." Walid Jumblatt couldn't have said it better himself.

Supplement "Communist" with "Hamas" or "anti-western", and you have American and March 14th policy in a nutshell. The US support Abu Mazen's opportunistic call for new elections in the Palestinian territories, less than a year after free and fair elections (freer and fairer than the Lebanese buy-yourself-a-Tripolian-vote tactics embraced by Hariri's Future Movement.) But does the same go for the opposition in Lebanon? Nah. Fouad Siniorita will reign until kingdom come. If he's going to stick around for much longer, I recommend he start speaking out of the other corner of his mouth.

Have you noticed how Hezbollah's Al Manar now runs happy-go-lucky music throughout the day to accompany the endless flag-waving clips? It must be a real provocation for March 14th, who first coopted the (Maronite) flag as a symbol of unity last year, to see Hezbollah crowds waving it deliriously to upbeat tunes. Not to suggest that ALL sects haven't come to love the cedar symbolism over the years, even if the Christian rightwing Phalangists slaughtered other Lebanese under a variation on the same theme.

There is discussion of "expanding the cabinet" to reach a compromise between the ruling coalition and the opposition. Does that mean they will simply create MORE ministries to faciliate powersharing? As if to say, it's easier to divide the cake into 30 rather than 24 pieces? If so, I would like to suggest some ministries:

- The Ministry of Honoring Phoenicia
- The Ministry of Elite Martyrdom
- The Ministry of Flags
-The Ministry of Loving Life
- The Ministry of Choreographing Demonstrations
- The "We-want-the-Truth" and Reconciliation Commission

And here's a few serious ones:
- Ministry of Stringent Media Reform
-Ministry of Marginalizing Clerics & Patriarchs
- Ministry of Eradicating Sectarianism. Add to that, for good measure, a competing "Agency for Phasing Out Confessionalism". That way they can shuffle the blame (and paperwork) around.

Feel free to suggest additional new ministries. Trust me, new ministries will create jobs, help ease unemployment and Paris 3 will finance the expanding bureaucratic nightmare.

I just heard this from a "second hand" source, which makes me the "third" hand to relay this: Hezbollah has PROOF that a Portugese military plane from Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv, landed in Beirut and left again, the very day of Gemayel's assassination. That's breaking news on Al Manar TV. That's terrific, guys. Good work. I look forward to the "proof". Would they be stupid enough to fly in straight from Tel Aviv to knock off Gemayel? Did the plane have a distinguishing scar on its face?

Keep stretching the epistomological boundaries. I find it ever so haughty to present half-ass evidence or no evidence but rather constantly refer to it. Citizens should trust no politician blindly because he or she claims something is true. Your own solid reasoning and penchant for conspiratorial reverie will suffice.

I know who I blame for the current mess, but people deserve a break. Virgin Megastore deserves a break. Couldn't they have saved it for the "lull" between Christmas and New Year's, where everyone just sits around getting fat on leftovers?

Thank you to the bloggers who did not post this video, the one that poses the daunting question, "When will we be Lebanese?" The whole "anti-sectarian" campaign is missing a crucial element: systemic criticism. I mean, Lebanese sentimentalism has never helped people to overcome their differences. It's not just a deeply engrained prejudice that keeps this country trapped in the throes of infighting; it's the system-- the way you are born, vote, marry, die-- that crushes in its infancy any serious attempt at de-confessionalization. Which is one of many reasons why the whole March 14th "100% Lebanese" fest was a bunch of bollox. I've heard from someone who worked at the PR company that created this particular slogan that the guy who dreamed it up was a real "kill all the Shia" type.

The "stop sectarianism before it stops us" campaign, the most recent brainchild of international PR mogul Leo Burnett, fails for the same reason. It's cheesy, it's simplistic, it's ultimately meaningless, and if it really sought to be provocative it would mock the real issues-- marriage and electoral laws, the sore absence of civic institutions. Instead of this "c'est pas cooooool to be sectarian, dude" approach. It's like those abstinence-only ad campaigns in the US. Stop premaritual sex before it stops you.

The success of such a campaign is of course hindered by the feudal elite's interest in maintaining the system, but also because too many people aren't really willing to part with the tribal guarantees, grand and petty wasta'ism, what they perceive to be the preservation of culture and tradition, etc.

A friend recently pointed out that many Sunnis now miss the pre-1975 balance of power, when Maronites and Sunnis ruled together sans Shia, so to speak. Because now the Shia have overtaken them in size and demands and the sectarian power-sharing formula can work without the Sunnis. But instead of pushing for de-confessionalization, the Sunnis (and Druze) desperately cling to it and labor under the illusion that a regional and international campaign to wish the Shia away will serve them better. (Not to say that the other sects are less sectarian.)

Think back to before the war when Saudi Arabia & co were still somewhat closeted about their anti-Shia sentiments. OK, one of the King Abdullahs said something about the threat of a "Shia crescent". But that did at least cause a minor outrage at the time.

Since the summer war, when the "moderate" Arab regimes came out of the closet to say the Persians pose a greater threat than the Zionists, Iran has become the culprit in Iraq, in Palestine, in Lebanon, and so on and so forth. And the Saudis are openly talking about backing the Sunnis in Iraq if the US withdraws. No wonder Nancy Pelosi's new candidate for the Senate Intelligence Committee doesn't know the difference between Sunnis and Shia. They are supposedly there to fight (Sunni Salafist) Al Qaeda, but (Shia) Iran is the motherf****ing problem, right? It's very confusing. I love the way the Sunni-Shia rift is ascribed to a petty doctrinary schism 1400 years ago that defies comprehension. As if to say, they disagreed on what color to paint the livingroom and have henceforth been estranged.

Merry Christmas. I mean that in the purest secular sense of eat, drink and be merry. Let's hope the next year brings prosperity to Virgin Megastore at Martyrs' Square, and all will be well.

Thank you for having me in 2oo6. It goes without saying that I prefer living in your country to mine, despite all the cruel things I say about your flags and leadership. Anyone prefer Angela Merkel over Walid Jumblatt? What a scary couple they would make. A hairdresser's nightmare, to say the least.

Mehlis, New Years Party Plans & the Campaign to save our beloved Virgin

2006-12-14T11:55:00.000+02:00

My last post aroused some heated responses and brought to the surface ugly divisions, even violent impulses. This was not my intention. Perhaps the rule-of-thumb that the victims of violence are somehow sacrosanct and immune to criticism inhibits the honest expression of grotesque sentiments, such as "I wish the Israelis had finished off all the Shia" and "we had a party for every dead inhabitant of the Dahiye". In which case, let's keep it at that-- simmering beneath the surface. I prefer not to take the spate of opinions expressed here as indicative of Lebanese public opinion. And if that comment about "finish off all the Shia" was meant to be funny, then perhaps humor-- subtle or not-- isn't quite your forté.

Furthermore I reiterate what I have said on prior occasion: I don't seek to please everyone. If you are a self-declared Phoenician, a war-on-Christmas paranoiac, a Lebanese (white) supremecist or a March 14th enthusiast, please don't whine if you don't like what I write. You have ninety percent of the Lebanese blogosphere at your disposal.

On to more important business. It hasn't rained for a month now. It should be pouring rain for days on end in late November/early December. Did God abandon his reknowned impartiality and side with the opposition? Did Ayatollah Khameini issue a fatwa against the rain? Is global warming a Persian/Alawite conspiracy?

Every cab driver now defers to God when I ask him about the situation, and points to the sky. The protest in downtown continues unabated. It seems they are planning to hold out at least until New Years Eve for a monumental bash. If you've ever had the misfortune of consuming non-alcoholic champagne at an office party, you know what to expect at that particular venue.

I received a charitable plea from Virgin Megastore via e-mail yesterday. If you read this on time, please drop what you're doing and go spend money at "our beloved Virgin" (I kid you not, that's what it said) on Martyrs' Square, or else Richard Bronson will die of untreated cancer.

I don't understand why the business community wasn't defiant from the very beginning. They should have mobilized their supporters from Day 1 to shop until they drop at the overpriced boutiques and restaurants downtown. The only businesses obstructed by the presence of porta-potties and tents are Buddha-bar, that cigarstore on the corner of Riad el-Solh, and some of the worst elitist silicone-babe nightclubs you can find in this city. Like Taboo. I am however concerned that the barb- and razewire will become a permanent manifestation if this doesn't end soon.

By the way, what did Dr. Fatfat prescribe his favorite patient?

Prime Minister Siniora, who apparently suffers from severe mood swings, is off to Moscow today. I hope they don't slip him some sushi laced with Plutonium-210. We don't need any more martyrs.

The owner of a restaurant I frequent in Gemmayze told me that Detlef Mehlis, the earstwhile UN investigator, will return to finish the job. "It will be our Christmas present," he said crossing himself. In case you haven't been following this, Mehlis has been leaking very serious allegations against Brammertz to the German press. According to an exclusive report in Der Stern, Brammertz has intentionally de-railed the investigation over the past year, instead of following up on Mehlis' claims that al-Assad, Ghazali & co. ordered Hariri's assassination. Now if I was going to choose between believing Mehlis or Brammertz I would bear in mind the following points:

1) Mehlis was on the job for six months, during which he waltzed around in a trench coat, kicking in doors, gave press conferences and made bold accusations, which --admittedly--was fun to watch on TV. I remember my Sunni Beiruti landlord, in a fit of infatuation, saying, "You look like Mehlis when you smile." A misguided compliment, to say the least. Brammertz has been in charge of the investigation for twice that time-- twelve months. During his tenure, he has discreetly pursued various leads, re-examined all the forensic evidence, and for some reason, the Syrians seemed happy to cooperate with him.

2) Mehlis is a well-known friend of American intelligence services. Ask any German. He has botched judicial precedings in the past-- incidentally-- by jumping to hasty conclusions which were later discredited. In the late 1980s he was the presiding prosecutor on the La Belle case-- the bombing of a West Berlin nightclub in which dozens of disco-dancing American GIs perished.

Mehlis, at the time, hastily blamed Libya for the bombing and Reagan went ahead and bombed Gaddafi's presidential palace in Tripoli. A few years later, an investigative report on ZDF Frontal alleged that the actual suspect was a deranged CIA/Mossad agent who had been hiding in Malta, and that Mehlis had in fact questioned him but chose not to indict him, despite the fact that all the evidence pointed towards his involvement. Oops!

3) If Mehlis claims any impartiality and respect for the due process of law, how does he know that Syria assassinated Pierre Gemayel? He is sitting in his office in Berlin, twiddling his thumbs, having returned to his rather unglamorous job as prosecutor of petty thieves and drug dealers. If he merely suspects Syrian involvment, why did he jump the gun and publicize his opinion?

Furthermore, why were Mehlis' investigators flying around in Hariri's private jets? Why has Mehlis' second-in-command, a German intelligence agent who is simultaneously embroiled in the CIA kidnapping and "extraordinary rendition" of one German-Lebanese Khalid Masri, been spotted in Beirut and rumored to be working as an adviser for the Hariri dynasty? Slightly unprofessional, no?

The problem with March 14th is that they are evidently as foolish as the White House, hiring disreputable Ahmed Chalabi-types to make their case. Mehlis has no credibility. None whatsoever. And why not get someone honest and well-respected to do the job? And finally, Mehlis is not cute. As a personal aquaintance of his can testify, Mehlis looks like a little binturong raccoon straight out of the Brazilian rainforest. Add those stylish frameless glasses that most humorless and vain Germans like to wear. (I added that last part for critics who complain that my writing resembles a gossip column.)

The funny thing is that March 14th's media will hype any of the UN investigation's conclusions. If Brammertz reports that Bashar al-Assad was taking a crap when Hariri was killed, well then that's evidence of foul play. If Brammertz suggests that an aerial attack might have caused the former Prime Minister's demise, well then what?

We don't know and I dare say we will never know who killed Rafiq Hariri. It's shameful, I know.

666 days of martyrdom, the perpetual mistress & another counter rally

2006-12-12T22:12:00.000+02:00

Yesterday marked the 666 day anniversary since Rafiq al-Hariri's assassination. I wish I had photographed the billboard at the entrance to Hamra; a pensive Hariri underneath the numbers '666'.

I am sick to the death of flags. I don't care who is waving which flag, it gives me a bloody headache. There's nothing "civilized" about waving a flag, a term I've noticed many Lebanese use as a synonym for "the rule of law".

Late one night Maya and I visited our local cornerstore, which is run by two very old Armenian ladies. The younger of the two, struck up a conversation and asked us where we were from. Maya responded, "Palestine". The little old lady gasped in terror; perhaps she hasn't seen a Palestinian in her neck of the woods since the Qarantina massacre of 1976. Her eyes widened and she looked like she was going to hit the burglar alarm. "But... but, you must have another passport, too, no?" To which Maya, the master of short and sweet answers, responded flatly, "No." The old lady was at a loss for words, until Maya reassured her that she had lived abroad, in Spain. The lady breathed a sigh of relief. "How is it there? Aren't they much more civilized and educated than us?" Maya responded, "No" again and then took a deep breath. Counting on her fingers, she relayed that the Spaniards were "more violent, more dirty, more disrespectful, more uneducated" than Arabs. The old lady stared in amazement. "Really? But I thought all Europeans were... you know..." "No," Maya responded again. End of conversation. As we left the store, I asked Maya if this was true about the Spaniards. "Of course not," she said matter-of-factly.

An-Nahar and the pro-government have borrowed "the war on Christmas"-theme from American rightwing hysterics. Every day a different neighbor in Achrafiye complains that we won't have Christmas if Hezbollah continues to camp out in downtown Beirut. What the "divine victory" isn't to Santa's liking? One minute the opposition's bid to overthrow the government is too festive; the next minute, it's not festive enough for Jesus' birthday. I noticed today that businesses are opening again in the lower half of downtown Beirut.

I spent three hours in a cab sunday trying to cross town from Achrafiye to Hamra during the opposition rally. That's three hours of driving further and further south, in order to go ever so slightly west and then being forced to head back east to Achrafiye to try the same route again. The road leading downtown was packed with protesters all the way to Tayoune. The cab driver, a Hariri supporter from Tripoli, honked enthusiastically for the throngs of protesters surrounding our car. The other passenger, a Shia from a prominent family with plucked eyebrows and bleached white teeth, an aspiring popstar, kept us entertained by crooning Celine Dion songs. He cursed the protesters for being "uncivilized" and "dirty". I insisted we get out and walk, but Maya maintained that our "fate" was sealed with the driver and additional passenger, and so instead she shouted out of the window at the soldiers blocking the road that this was unacceptable, much to everyone's amusement. "I've never seen so many happy Shia," Maya remarked. We spoke at length about the Shia tradition of martyrdom and suffering, unjustice and persecution, and how the Shia are having a good time for the first time in 1400 years.

Saniora, Jumblatt & co. have warned that the opposition is staging a "coup" to overthrow the government. In my estimation the real coup is an aesthetic one. They have hi-jacked the March 14th look with all those Lebanese flags, the carnival-like atmosphere, their declarations of "unity" and "one Lebanon". Al Manar now runs a clip depicting workers sporting Rafiq Hariri's favorite headwear, the yellow construction helmet. It only seems more bizarre when you see a "counter rally" in support of the government staged in Tripoli with participants waving the same flag. The average age of the Tripoli rally participants was nine; Future TV zoomed in close to conceal the actual size of the gathering. They have all kinds of visual manipulation techniques, where they shoot the same crowd of 20 people from different angles.

Today is the first anniversary of Gebran Tueni's assassination. David Ignatius, a columnist with the Washington Post, attended an event in Beirut in Tueni's honor and Thomas Friedman put in his two cents via a pre-recorded televised address.

"Ignatius said 'Tueni and An-Nahar remind us that journalism is about telling the truth, even when others want you to be silent,' said American syndicated columnist David Ignatius.

'Courageous words' from prominent figures such as Tueni, 'are not bought cheap,' Ignatius added."

I wish those old farts would just go away. An-Nahar has not been the voice of "truth", or balance for that matter, in many years. Like Friedman, Ignatius lived in Beirut in the early 1980s, when he still considered himself a "progressive" or whatever. He has since gone over to the dark side. And if you consider Friedman a good columnist, then you are illiterate. A critic once wrote, "Reading Friedman is fascinating–the same way that it’s fascinating to watch a zoo gorilla make mounds out of its own feces." Read the entire hilarious review.

We now refer to the frequent gatherings of the black-clad Christian widows of deceased leaders as "the wives' club". May Chidiac always looks a bit awkward at these events, a party crasher of sorts; the perpetual mistress with her bloated silicone lips and trashy attire.

May Chidiac with the deceased Gebran Tueni

I wonder if the wives gather in the bathroom to re-apply lipstick and gossip about her. Word has it she was Samir Geagea's mistress throughout the civil war and that he dumped her to marry a pretty village girl, Sti rida. How interconnected and incestuous. I had no idea.

A demonstration under the banner, "Ana misch ma hadda" (I'm not with anyone) is scheduled for Thursday at 4.30pm in Hamra. It is in opposition to both March 14th and March 8th/December 1st, because the former sucks and the latter does not tackle the issues of confessionalism, and social and economic justice. Rather the opposition furthers sectarian politics, despite its parading of Sunni supporters. Yes, the opposition is a rather promiscuous assortment of parties who are vying for a bigger piece of the pie, and are wasting our time if this is all for a "national unity government." Are they all going to sit back down at the table and continue like before until the next crisis arises?

And on the 7th day, Nasrallah spoke

2006-12-07T16:37:00.000+02:00

The protest downtown is in its seventh day. They have errected a huge screen which broadcasts Hezbollah's Al Manar TV. This evening, hundreds of thousands gathered for the transmission of a live address by Hassan Nasrallah.

The protesters have been beaming floodlights towards the Grand Serail, illuminating the entire second floor and perhaps blinding the inhabitants --the entire kabal of Muftis and half the Lebanese cabinet. Like it or not, witnessing the brazen harassment of the powers-that-be is somehow deeply satisfying. Its right out of the annals of Guantanamo: sleep deprivation, loud noise and bright lights. If Dick Cheney led the Lebanese opposition, he would dunk Saniora's head under water.

Can you imagine that late night phonecall to Saudi King Abdullah?

"Hello, oh Guardian of the two holy Sites, peace be upon you. I'm sorry to bother you at this hour. I know how very busy you are hunting near-extinct animals, snorting cocaine and threatening to break off diplomatic relations with the UK. But these little Shia buggers are shining bright lights in through my window. It's starting to give me a headache. Your intervention is required. Might you please call Speaker Berri and insist that he put an end to this? Perhaps they could also just lower the voltage of the lights, or go with a warmer hue of lighting. Yes precisely, they're using that unflattering white light. Thanks so much, oh Abdullah."

The tents downtown are now propped up on crates and sealed to protect them in case of rain. They are still dancing debka and eating kaak in the thousands. The soldiers have their own emcampment on the other side of the Grand Serail. The noise from the demonstration echoes westward across Bab Idriss and down towards the port. Chants of "Fatfat, you tough guy, one coffee and two teas", a reference to orders the earstwhile Interior Minister gave a Lebanese general who served tea to the Israeli army occupying a Lebanese barracks, keep spirits high. A man with a microphone on the eastern end of the tent city-- near the Marada encampment-- yells into a microphone: "Nayla Mouawad". The crowd responds, "Booooh". "Samir Geagea". "Booooh." "Sti rida Geagea." "Boooooooooooooh." "Fuad Saniora". "Boooooooooooooooh".

My friend A., the owner of a cafe, reports that a Lebanese soldier-- the ones who wear navy blue uniforms-- entered his cafe during peak hour the other morning. He walked up to the counter and requested a coffee. "But give me a good one. A really good one. I just ordered coffee in another cafe and I didn't like it, so I threw it in the man's face," he said. A. responded, "Well perhaps we should go outside then. If the coffee is not to your liking, you can throw it in my face without creating a mess on the floor." The soldier drank his coffee. He liked it and apologized. "I'm sorry, I'm just so stressed out. You see, I go down to the protest every day, and the demonstrators shout and curse me. They hate me. But there's nothing I can do. It's my job," he complained. As he finished his sentence, a woman in the cafe started yelling at him for serving in the army in the first place. A. felt sorry for the soldier.

I took a cab from downtown to Hamra last night through Basta and Bourj Abi Haidar (the site of recent street brawls between Hariri and Hezbollah/Amal supporters). The cab driver drove at a million miles an hour, refusing to stop for other passengers. It reminded me of cross-town cab rides during the war. While the Israelis were bombing the Dahiye late one night, I clocked a ride from Hamra to Achrafiye in 3 minutes.

A joke in circulation forebodes that Amal will refuse to leave the encampment downtown without receiving bribe money in exchange. After the civil war, the government had to pay off members of the Amal movement to vacate buildings they had squatted during the war.

Future (Al Mustaqbal), the newspaper of the Hariri family, reports that the sit-in has cost the economy $400 million. That includes "$100 million in potential investments." All this according to Hariri family friend and economist Marwan Iskandar, whose recent biography of Hariri included such pearls of wisdom as, "Hariri was not only a wise and a good man, but also a strong man. He valued physical exercise and ate egg-white omelettes for breakfast...".

“Iskandar told Al Mustaqbal that the Lebanese economy was now operating at 30% of its capacity, which raised the total of its losses since the beginning of the sit-in to over $300 million, in addition to around $100 million in investment losses. He pointed out that the investments that Lebanon had attracted during the first half of 2006, exceeded $3 billion. Iskandar said that: ‘There is a massive danger surrounding the state of investments in Lebanon if the daily carnivals and the evening insults continue, for that will change the image of Beirut from a shining civilized image…, to one of political disputes and the insults of a group of children’. (translation courtesy of Mideastwire)

Shining civilized image? Quick! Hide all the Shia! Madame Royal, the champagne socialist, is coming to town...

In his speech this evening, which broadcast live on all the major networks except Future TV, Nasrallah commanded his followers not to shoot in the air after he speaks and to stop hurling insults at those hunkered down in Saniora's bunker. He spoke of unity and forgiveness, and swore that Hezbollah would never ever respond to any provocation by turnings its weapons against the Lebanese. He also unleashed hefty accusations, claiming that Saniora ordered the army to cut off Hezbollah's supply lines, while they were under Israeli attack. Without naming them, he alluded to specific individuals from the ruling coalition, who encouraged the Israelis to finish Hezbollah off, because they (March 14th) are unable to disarm them. Instead of aiding the resistance by routing out infiltrators, they searched high and low for Nasrallah, and even informed the Israelis of his previous whereabouts so that they could eliminate him.

The protests will continue until March 14th agree to a national unity government (sans Saniora). The ruling coalition is finished. I wonder how long it will take the "moderate" Arab regimes and international cheerleaders of the "Cedar Revoution" to accept that fact, and let poor old Saniora off the hook.

In other news, former KGB-spy Litvinienko, who was poisoned in a Sushi restaurant in London, converted to Islam shortly before his death. And Dick Cheney’s lesbian daughter is having a baby from her partner Heather Poe.

2006-12-06T17:38:00.000+02:00

Fatfatism

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Fatfatism (in Arabic, الفتفتية) refers to the parodic ideology tied to the person of the Minister of the Interior in Lebanon, Ahmad Fatfat. This ideology, which has come to refer to a certain "Moderate" breed of political behavior in the Middle East, can be explained, according to Dr. As'ad Abu Khalil, the intellectual who coined the term, as such:

"...it requires no commitment to principles; it merely adjusts to the interests of the political status of Ahmad Fatfat. The ideology contains contradictions: it speaks of democracy and 'liberalism' and yet cultivates support among Bin Laden supporters in North Lebanon and serves as a client for Saudi Wahhabism; it speaks in favor of 'sovereignty' and 'independence' while it faithfully represented the interests of the tyrannical Syrian regime, and now represents the external patrons of Sanyurah. The ideology of Fatfatism believes that the most effective way for fighting foreign occupation is serving tea to the occupation soldiers. While it is widely believed that Fatfatism is a Lebanese phenomenon, it is now noticed that Fatfatism is spreading in countries in the Middle East and well beyond the Middle East."

The December protests in Beirut, Lebanon in 2006 included chants which echoed a wide-spread understanding of Fatfatism. The chant went, according to primary sources: "احمد فتفت يا قابدي واحد قهوة واثنان شاي" (Ahmad Fatfat, you tough guy; one coffee and two tea). This reaction to Fatfatism can be understood in the wider framework of discontent in the Middle East with politicians like Hosni Mubarak, Abu Mazen, Iyad Allawi, and Fouad Sanyurah who are perceived by the general Arab public to be no more than tools of Western imperial powers.

Miltias, "Kidnapping Activities" & the Armed Kaak Salesman

2006-12-06T00:19:00.000+02:00

John Bolton (or Michael Bolton, as I've mistakenly called him for the past year) has resigned. I am very pleased. For some reason he irked me more than almost anyone else working for the Bush administration. I usually don't pay attention to the personal shortcomings of repulsive ideologues (aside from my fascination with those meth-sniffing callboy-banging evangelicals). But the image of Bolton chasing a female employee down a hotel corridor haunts me, as much as the rumors that he coerced his ex-wife to partake in orgies. That moustache. Yuck.

That's all for the good news.

Street fights between Sunni Hariri supporters and the Shia opposition have errupted in various neighborhoods around town for the past few nights, and between Druze and Shia at the Lebanese University. The army is not able to control the sporadic and widespread incidents of violence. Future reports that the Shia "invaded" their neighborhoods "in vehicles". I guess invaded on motorscooters doesn't sound quite as threatening. The (Sunni) Mufti of Aktar compares the demonstrators to pagans who protested against the Prophet Mohammad in Mecca. Ali Hamade-- brother of Marwan Hamade-- writes in An-Nahar that Hezbollah (i.e. the Shia) are impossible to "Arabize" and "Lebanonize."

Hezbollah's al-Manar TV screened footage from the shooting of 20-year old Ahmed Mahmoud on Sunday, which supposedly incriminates Hariri followers.Al Manar refered to Hariri's armed supporters as the "Future militia" and named the suspected killer. A billboard at Riad al Solh Square, the site of the opposition's sit-in, depicts Mr. Mahmoud who was "martyred by the ruler's militia". He was buried this afternoon.

The Future Movement, in turn, accused Hezbollah of staging "kidnapping activities" in Bshamoun. What in God's name is a "kidnapping activity"? I do not believe anything Future TV reports unless it is confirmed by additional sources. And I am writing all this while seated next to the slimy first cousin of the equally slimy heir to the Future throne...

A European woman who lives in Basta says that everyone has grown accustomed to staying indoors between 9.30 and 10.30pm because young men routinely attack eachother with rocks and knives. I asked her, "what happens at 10.30 to make them stop? Does the army intervene?" "The army or someone else. Another party," she responded. She looked tired. I asked her if she was planning to stay in Beirut. She said she would not stay if things get much worse and more "unpredictable".

Yesterday at a cafe in Hamra, a middle-aged foreign man in casual dress sat down next to me at the bar counter. He was at least twenty years older than the average clientele and looked rather out of place sitting at the bar, a book in hand. He ordered a diet Pepsi and remained engrossed by the same page of a Henry Thoreaux novel for the better part of two hours. Not once did he turn the page. Which reminds me of stories about the Syrian mukhabarat (secret police) standing in the midst of a crowd of protesters, holding a newspaper to their face while peering over it to scrutinize the crowd. My spy radar went on high alert and I stared intently to see if his eyes were actually moving across the page. They were not.

Then my friend arrived and we began to converse about politics. He conspiciously eavesdropped, to the best of his ability, holding the book close to his face. I lowered my voice occasionally and he would strain to catch what I was saying. At one point in the evening, he leaned over and asked me where I was from. I responded and inquired the same of him. He was American. What was he doing in Beirut? Cycling from Jordan through Syria and Lebanon. Why? Well, because he's never been to those countries. I smiled and turned away.

At the sit-in downtown, I bumped into an elderly American woman sporting a plethora of Hezbollah scarves around her neck, a Hezbollah baseball cap on her head and other Hezbollah paraphenelia attached to the travelpouch around her waist. The travelpouch and white sneakers were a dead giveaway. She was eating something that resembled greasy chunks of pork and wiping the fat on her pants. A friend of mine had described an American woman who attended the "International conference in support of the resistance" a few weeks ago at the UNESCO Palace. She fit the description. He had left the conference after she railed on and on about how much she loves Hezbollah and how Americans love Nasrallah. I stopped to talk to her. She was accompanied by an elderly gent from the International Action Committee, a misguided, reactionary "leftist" organization headed by Ramsey Clarke. They were on a solidarity visit. They expressed concern about transporting all their Hezbollah souvenirs and "gifts" back to the US. I wished them good luck and split.

Most of the protesters I encountered, who have been camping out in downtown for the fifth day in a row, were not from Beirut. I bumped into an acquaintance from Bint Jbeil and another from Tripoli. At least half the people staying overnight were from the Christian Marada and Free Patriotic Movement parties. The weather has been kind to them; it hasn't rained yet. A Marada supporter who lived in Germany for eleven years described how fearful and alienated he has become from his neighbors. "I lock my door since Hariri died," he said. "I don't know what to do. They are afraid of me, and I am afraid of them." He complained of endless harrassment by the Internal Security Forces. "If you have a picture of Hariri in your car, they let you pass. If not, they search you from top to bottom." He said that militiamen roam the streets of Tripoli and that they are affiliated with Hariri. "Officially they don't exist," he said. "But we see them."

He spoke at length about the government's inadequate concern for the poor, about unemployment and healthcare. I asked him if he thought that would change if Hezbollah and Aoun gain additional seats in the cabinet. "No, we need a new government entirely. They will not change anything." He worries that infiltrators will attack the tents at night, and reported that a kaak salesman had pulled a knife on the demonstrators yesterday. He said Hezbollah's security handed him over to the army.

I can hardly keep track of all the incidents of violence and intimadation, but I wonder how both sides intend to get out of this mess. Before long, the media incitement will lead us to the point of no return.

It is late and I don't know how I'm going to get home. Cabdrivers scoff when I request to cross town from Hamra to Achrafiye, because the army checkpoints slow traffic down to a crawl even after midnight. Plenty more to report and photos to follow. Here's something that might amuse you:

Ahmadinijad welcoming a delegation of Orthodox Jews in Tehran. (hat tip)

Debka dancing, riots & the "dirty" demonstrators

2006-12-04T17:18:00.000+02:00

Day 4 of the opposition’s sit-in in downtown Beirut; Day 14 of the ruling coalition’s slumber party at the Grand Serail. What are the sleeping arrangements? Perhaps the Mufti advised that prayer is better than sleep...

On sunday morning, helicopters hovered above my neighborhood for hours on end. After this summer war, my ears are tuned to the sky. A bird pooping on the roof is enough to wake me up. Then the marathon began and the relentless sectarian car anthems ensued. Boys on motorbikes waving the Hezbollah and Aounist flags zip through Achrafiye; late saturday night the army set up roadblocks to stop provacateurs from entering the Christian areas. My Aounist neighbor blasts Nasrallah's speeches, while the elderly shuffle to Sunday mass.

A friend's younger sister, a studious and polite student at LAU, is enraged by her fellow students' attitude towards the demonstrators. "I never cared about politics. Never. But I get so angry when I hear the way they talk about the demonstrators, as if they have no right to protest because they are Shia." She says her ex-boyfriend phoned her and complained about the "fucking Shia". Her sister adds, "And why does Hezbollah have to claim they speak for all the Shia? Both sides, push us into a position we are unwilling to take. I mean, this government can push you to prefer General Michel Aoun over them."

Indeed it's high time for a third front. Many people oppose this government, but refuse to align themselves with the opposition bloc, whose demands are not far-reaching enough. What if Siniora's government agrees to allow Aoun and Hezbollah due representation? What then? And if not? March 14th youth are itching to take to the streets. Over the weekend, they gathered in the hundreds in Tripoli to show support for the government.

The Shia presence in downtown is raising territorial fears amongst the city's more glamorous inhabitants. Didn't you know that downtown used to be bustling full with people from all sects and now the Shia have taken it for themselves? That's what I've been hearing from March 14th bloggers.

While the government warned of riots and a coup, the demonstration proceeds peacefully, albeit too peacefully for some people's taste. My landlord complains of the carnival-like atmosphere. "Why do they have to smoke narghileh and dance debka? Its not all fun and games." I don't see it ending anytime soon, with all the fun they're having. Jamal reports the rampant consumption of cotton candy and corn-on-the-cob; icecream trucks and fortune tellers line the streets, concerts and fiery speeches every evening. It's like a permanent fairground. They should re-name the area, Hezbollah Fun Park or Four-Flags Adventure Park.

Mr. Saniora yesterday concludes that, "protest is no solution." What he meant to say is, "protest is no solution... for them," least we forget that their coalition is named after the date of a choreographed demonstration. Can we all agree to abandon our infatuation with million-man marches?

Yesterday evening in Qasqas, supporters of Hariri's Future party tried to stop a bus full of protesters from the Dahiye who were returning from the demonstration. Fights ensued for three quarters of an hour; hundreds of young men joined in, wielding sticks, bottles and stones.

The army tried to intervene. A photographer for An-Nahar newspaper sustained broken facial bones. Ali Ahmad Mahmud, a 20-year old supporter of the Amal movement, was shot dead by supporters of Hariri's party.

Hariri supporters also set Syrian-owned shops on fire near Sabra. In Bourj Abi Haidar, a member of the Internal Security Forces was shot in the neck by men presumed to be Amal supporters. In Barboor, the head of Future party, Imad Fatha, for that area was arrested for a shooting incident. In total, at least fourteen were reported wounded in street clashes in Qasqas, Barboor, Sabra, Shatila, near the airport road, Corniche Mazraa, Salim Salam Bridge area and Basta. Rightwing Lebanese bloggers blame Syrian intelligence operatives -- not savage Haririites-- for the killing in Qasqas.

The international tribunal must investigate and prosecute the coldblooded cowardly murder of Ali Ahmad Mahmud. The local authorities cannot be trusted to carry out an investigation, as witnessed by their inability to solve not a single murder or assassination since they took power. I suspect Hariri's Future TV and a few other sectarian media outlets could be prosecuted for incitement to sectarian violence.

Hariri’s Future TV runs an ad mocking the opposition’s demands for a “clean government”. They show garbage from the protest accumulating in downtown Beirut under the headline, “They say they want a clean government. But are they clean enough?” While the pro-government media increasingly employs classist arguments against the (Shia) demonstrators, the protesters chant, "We are fed up with lies; fed up with tears; we want a government that ends hunger."

Naharnet now refers to Hezbollah as "the Iranian- and Syrian-backed Shiite" group. No mention of Lebanese there.

Meanwhile the former head of Israeli military intelligence, Aharan Zeevi Farkash, warned that a summer war with Hezbollah would be increasingly likely if Siniora resigns. He however discourages Israeli intervention, because Israeli support for the Lebanese Prime Minister would encourage Syria and Iran to assassinate Siniora.

Fijian soldiers stationed in southern Lebanon are missing out on their very own army coup back home in the south pacific.

Lebanese billionaire and Minister of Public Works and Transport, Mohamed Safadi, is under investigation by the British Serious Fraud Office for involvement in the Saudi arms deal inquiry. That's "serious" fraud, folks. Thank God they can still get away with it in Lebanon. Perhaps the reconstruction funds to rebuild southern Lebanon will cover his legal expenses.

Camping in Solidere

2006-12-02T21:51:00.000+02:00

While I was in Athens, a million-or-so people took to the streets to bring down the government of Fuad Saniora. I watched it unfold on CNN, at the mercy of that red-faced Briton, Brent Sadler, for whom it all boils down to a existential conflict between "The pro-Syrian militan group Hayz-bow-laaa" and "The anti-Syrian pro-independence movement."

Mr. Sadler always shouts for dramatic emphasis; I suspect he has a drinking problem.

Incidentally, CNN never panned across the full span of the demonstration, but showed either Riad el Solh Square or that dirt patch south of Martyrs Square. And that miserable dreary-voiced Hala Gorani was flown in just for the occasion.

Upon my return to Beirut this afternoon, I walked from my home in Achrafiye to downtown. The streets in Rmeil were completely abandoned. Did the Christians all leave for the mountain again, or are they perhaps attending the sit-in under the FPM banner? I noticed that the Michel Aoun banner near Cinema Sofil has been torched anew. Many of the cars in Gemmayze discreetly performed the Lebanese Forces anthem with their car horns, while teenagers waving orange and Lebanese flags tore past on their motor scooters. The Internal Security Forces were busy lining the side streets with pink tape for tomorrow’s marathon, which will run right through the protest. Unless the Syrian-Iranian axis conspires to sabotage Beirut’s main athletic attraction again…

The army has cordoned off Martyrs’ Square, which is apparently reserved exclusively for protesters with stocks in Solidere. The area south and west of the Al-Amin mosque—from the Fouad Chehab highway to the Grand Serail-- is occupied by the protesters. On Day 2 of the open-ended sit-in, they are still present in the tens of thousands. [Apparently this evening, the streets are again swollen with hundreds of thousands of demonstrators.] The opposition pitched white and black tents in the valet parking lots, which are ordinarily full of fancy cars.

Protestors camping out last night in Solidere (hat tip)

A carnival-like atmosphere prevails. The average age of the mostly male crowd is fifteen or sixteen. The adults look tired, as do most of the Hezbollah and FPM security staff. They sit around on plastic chairs smoking narghileh, drinking coffee and eating kaak and fried chicken, while the kids – seemingly infatigable—tear up and down the street, waving flags, jumping up and down, and cheering. The FPM supporters get a real kick out of joining in cheers of “Ali, Ali, Ali”. It smells of fried chicken and stale sweat. A man sat down on the pavement to change his socks; another brushed his teeth from a water fountain that has been set up to accommodate those who camped out overnight.

In a desperate attempt to taint the protestors as hordes of brainwashed Shia, the pro—government media claimed that Christian participation was scant, because the all-powerful (and not so horny) Patriarch Sfeir commanded Christians to stay home. But I saw thousands of men and women sporting orange shawls and waving the flags of the Free Patriotic Movement. Were they Hezbollah followers in disguise? Very unlikely. I also saw dozens of people wearing orange scarves with Nasrallah’s silhouette printed above the Aounist (Nike) symbol. Beat that, Saatchi & Saatchi.

The road leading up to the besieged Grand Serail is surrounded by razor wire, jeeps, tanks and a massive military presence. I could see security staff on the roof of the Prime Minister’s residence. Saniora must not be getting much sleep. Perhaps Doctor Fatfat prescribed him some tranquilizers.

A few US newspapers reported that protesters shouted, “God, Nasrallah and the suburbs”. Now “the Dahiyeh” does indeed translate as “the suburbs”, but that must conjure up something quite hilarious in the American mind. It’s akin to New Yorkers shouting, “God, Rabbi Shlomo and Westchester”. I also noticed that the western media were pleasantly surprised by how “peaceful” the rally was. Here’s some advice to foreign reporters covering the events in Lebanon: Stop listening to the hysterical propaganda emanating from the prime ministerial mansion. And perhaps it is worth noting that yesterday’s demonstration was more peaceful than last week’s flag fest. Nobody tore up posters and trampled on portraits.

And Saniora, Hariri and Jumblatt are just further discrediting their claim to legitimate rule by invoking the support they enjoy from the corrupt Arab dictators and that clown John Bolton. Their refusal to acknowledge this popular display of discontent ought to put the final nail in the coffin of the sanctimonious “Cedar Revolution”.

Having said all this, the protests can’t last forever. Saniora’s complexion will resemble that of Michael Jackson if he stays holed up in his compound any longer, even if he is under a lot of pressure from the White House to stand firm. Perhaps Jeff Feltman can donate some of those lights that emulate artificial sunlight. We wouldn’t want him to get depressed or sick of the constant company of his loyal cabinet members. Perhaps they are playing poker, as I write, and taking swigs from a flask of whisky, in between rounds of prayer administered by the Sunni Mufti.

Something will have to give rather soon. It doesn’t take the sight of more than a few dozen Shia protesters to keep the glamour class away from downtown Beirut. And since when is downtown the heart and soul of the Lebanese economy? Aren’t the super nightclubs and nail salons still open? If they are really concerned about the economy, then the ruling coalition will have to give in to the opposition’s demands and hold new elections. I wonder how much cash Hariri will dole out to the electorate this time around. Enough to purchase a Play Station 3?

In the meantime, the Internal Security Forces are being beefed up, their ranks filled with loyal Sunnis and Christians willing and capable of taking on Hezbollah.

Yuppy brawls, surprises & the arms race

2006-11-29T02:14:00.000+02:00

I am concerned for my neighbor's safety. He flies a lone FPM flag amidst a hostile sea of Lebanese Forces banners and portraits of Pierre Gemayel. Hordes of young men loiter in the streets at night. Perhaps I didn't notice them before, but they seem to have multiplied over night. The large green garbage vats down from the Phalangist office in Rmeil are overflowing; I suspect the Syrian Sukleen workers are afraid to come pick up the trash.

Yesterday evening two thousand young men from the rival Christian factions hurled insults and bottles at eachother at Sassine Square, the stomping ground of reactionary francophone yuppies. The same happened at St. Joseph University.

Most of the troublemakers involved in street brawls are too young to remember the civil war. I inquired of some of the Phalangist youth gathered outside their headquarters last week if they remembered the war; no, they responded sheepishly. Last spring I watched two sixteen year old boys at Virgin Megastore leaf through a coffeetable book about the civil war. They were in awe; "c'est cool, man" one of them kept mumbling. Well it was the seventies/early eighties, and militiamen typically had big hair, shaggy sideburns and those Don Johnson sunglasses. Hot Phalangist sniper chicks in tiny tank tops shot at Palestinian schoolchildren...

Nine men from the Lebanese Forces security apparatus were arrested yesterday by the army intelligence branch. They were holding target practice up in Kesrouan and were armed with "M16 and AKF rifles, MT5 riflescopes, and a number of GLOCK pistols [...] in addition to very sophisticated communication devices." They also found a map of the Rabieh area -- home to Michel Aoun-- in one of the three SUVs used by the gunmen (which all had identical license plates), as well as a portrait of a "prominent Lebanese political figure" and a mannequin placed in the front seat of the vehicle. Al-Akhbar reports that the portait was of Michel Aoun whose house was also marked on the map.

"Six of the detainees confessed that before the LF [Lebanese Forces] was disbanded in 1994, they used be part of the “El SADEM” force that was made up back then of more than forty fighters, thirty of which were recruited back by the LF about one year ago. Most of them lived abroad, and one of them is currently the head of Samir Geagea’s security detail in 'Al Arz'."

But the best part of the story is that the Lebanese Forces "unequivocally" denied the report, and claimed that the men were just going about their "regular Monday training session" (!) as security officers for Pierre Dagher, the CEO of LBC Television. That doesn't explain the SUVs with identical license plates, which were painted brown and black, the unlicensed weapons, etc. The guy who services my Internet connection-- fat boy Roy-- was fuming over the arrests this morning. "The army is Syrian! Michel Sleiman [the Army commander] is with Syria", he ranted, and went on and on about how the Palestinians sold their land to the Jews in 1948. "They have no honor," he said. I wanted to expound on the benefits of getting laid once in a while, but instead asked him politely to leave. He apologized for bothering me.

Then today a further 13 Lebanese Forces fighters were arrested. Rumors and reports abound that Jumblatt is arming the Druze on Mount Lebanon, and a Future MP had this to say today: “The army will first protect us, but if we find ourselves obliged we will take to the streets, and a peaceful confrontation will be faced with a peaceful confrontation, and clashes will be faced with clashes,” said Walid Eido, a judge and member of Lebanon’s Parliament in the governing coalition, speaking of the challenge from Hezbollah. “We will sell our blood to buy weapons and confront them. We will never let them control the country.”

J. reports that a (Sunni) friend from Basta told him representatives of Hariri's Future party visited her father the evening of Gemayel’s funeral. They offered him a machine gun. “All your neighbors have taken them. The Lebanese Forces are armed and ready, the Tayyar (FPM) are. We have to be ready for when Hezbollah attacks,” he was purportedly told. He declined, stating that this was not the way to settle differences. “If something happens and you are not prepared, you will be to blame,” they said.

Prime Minister Saniora urged for calm today. "We want to avoid discord. My presence here (in the government), and that of many others will prevent discord and civil war...Because even if there is war... in the end, we will have to sit back together," he said. Jeez, that inspires confidence.

In the current climate, it doesn’t matter if talk of imminent civil strife, an arms race between opposing factions and cynical covert alliances are, in fact, true or not; the abundance of rumors, the blind subscription to blaming parties XYZ, and the propaganda of “the existential threat” can do the damage. If and when the conflagration occurs, the sectarian media will be to blame. Future TV in particular. When I watch that station I think I’m going to suffer a heart attack. It’s like that TV series “24” with Kiefer Sutherland. Time is running out! They are wacking us like flies! Ditto for Al Manar’s victory montages.

Those marching tunes really stick in your head. I find myself humming them at the supermarket.

The US embassy denies reports they have urged American citizens to evacuate Lebanon before December 1st. Which reminds me that this summer, the US frantically evacuated their citizens from Lebanon, all the while expediting shipments of bombs to Israel. The irony that it might have been easier to tell Israel to just lay off the bombing of civilian areas, was lost on the international media who went bananas covering the dramatic evacuations of a purported 50,000 Americans to Dearborne, Michigan.

I received a text message yesterday from the government-owned cellphone provider, offering to keep me abreast with "URGENT NEWS" on "the developing situation in Lebanon" for a whopping $10 per month. Are they trying to profiteer from the crisis, which they are fueling?

The UN Human Rights Council concluded that some of the infrastructure damage inflicted by Israeli bombs was done for "the sake of destruction". And that's a great relief because we were all waiting to hear what the strategic value of the Manara lighthouse and the Goethe Institute's parking lot were, not to mention all those bridges, ambulances and civilian housing.

Isreal, which was quick to blame Syria for Pierre Gemayel’s assassination, claims that new landmines in southern Lebanon must also have been laid by Syria or Hezbollah.

Patriarch Nasrallah Sfeir, the highest Maronite authority and a renouned demographer, insisted yesterday that Christians must unite. A young Maronite complained to me the other day that Sfeir, who was nearly kidnapped by Israel this summer due to his unfortunate first name and love of black headwear, has struck deals with Canada and the US not to grant visas to Lebanese Christians. He fears they might emigrate which would further deflate his demographic aspirations.

"1 Christian + 1 Christian = Too many Shia"

Hezbollah announced that they would “surprise” the government when the time comes to take to the streets.

They will use all democratic means available to them in their endeavor. Expect whoopy cushion on Fatfat’s seat, a surprise party for Jumblatt, and Mohammed Ra'd returning to the negotiation table dressed as Santa Clause.

No, but really I hope they don't surprise me on Thursday by blocking the airport road. I have a plane to catch.

To whomever killed Pierre Gemayel...

2006-11-24T19:47:00.000+02:00

I blame you for the most nauseating display of faux participatory democracy I have seen in this country, to date. Watching Jumblatt, Geagea, Hariri and Amin Gemayel-- two mass murderers (one of whom was convicted for assassinating a Prime Minister, least you forget), a Saudi playboy and an arms dealer, respectively-- beat their chests and the drums of war in front of a delusional and gullible crowd was hard to stomach. The international media's enamoration with this choreographed circus (don't you wish the Iraqis were as cool and witty as the sexy Lebanese?) took the cake.

I believe more than ever that March 14th are foolishly complicit in the US's project of waging a proxy war against Iran and Syria through Lebanon. The White House is willing to plunge this country into civil war in the process, and Jumblatt and Geagea will accept their tutelage and assistance in order to remain in power. They have everything to lose in a national unity government. The Americans don't want the Shia (or anyone who opposes American meddling) in a position of strength and neither do the Sunnis, Druze and fringe Christians. Even before Gemayel's assassination, I sensed from certain player's rhetoric that they had guarantees. They weren't just going to fold in the face of Hizbullah and Aoun's challenge to their authority. Well now I am certain. How that is lost on the minions who participated in thursday's spectacle escapes me.

After witnessing the impressive resilience of the Lebanese under Israeli attack, it was a painful realization that the Mitlaeufer mentality is so pervasive. Not only do people tolerate the crudest emotive propaganda spouting from their TV sets and from the stage errected at Martyrs' Square, but they also willingly wave flags and portraits and cheer. Why aren't people outraged by the exploitation of blood for political ends?

Sunnis marching under the same banner of a militia that once slaughtered Muslims in the tens of thousands.

Rival butchers-- Geagea and Jumblatt-- grasping on to eachother for power. This is what a "courageous struggle for independence" looks like? Is the irony lost on the spectacle participants who shout anti-Syrian slogans ("dirty Syrians", "stupid Syrians") that it is Syrian street cleaners who clean Martyrs' Square after they go home?

Almost two years after al-Hariri's assassination, they are still "making history" with the same hollow program. "We are the truth". "We love life". Yes, so do people who bomb abortion clinics and assassinate doctors. Be careful, they might sue you for copyright infringement. After all these years of war and treachery, you still play follow-the-leader and you get nothing in return for your pathetic and unconditional loyalty. The same goes for unconditional loyalty to any other party or faction, including Hezbollah.

I know to many people who had no intention of attending the opposition rally, which has now been postponed, because they support none of the confessional factions. But after the insufferable, arrogant, sectarian show they might just attend to show March 14th and their allies that "they" are not an "illusion". No, Saad Hariri: YOU are an illusion. In fact you are a nightmare. Your face and that of your playmates makes me want to scream and vomit all over your shiny shoes.

Oh, and by the way, there are more important things happening in this country and in the region. More than 200 people were killed in Baghdad during the course of the flag fest; add to that 22 in Gaza, and in the south of Lebanon, winter has set in over the ruins of entire villages.

In Aita Shaab, a village near the border with Israel, 85 percent of houses are completely destroyed, nay obliterated; the rest are being bulldozed against people's will or remain in shambles. The Qataris who promised to rebuild Aita are giving people between $500 and a maximum of $3,000 to do so. Enough to buy some kitchenware and a few towels. Donors are prohibited from dealing directly with the local authorities, and have to go through the government in Beirut (And we all know where that money ends up.) There is spotty electricity and water; people are huddled in garages or crowded into the homes of neighbors and relatives.

And Syria did what? Oh you think they killed stupid Pierre Gemayel? Well that's a crime that warrants international outrage and parades, burning trash and beating up Syrian cabdrivers and street cleaners. Oh but the people who are now homeless and helpless are just an "illusion", isn't that right, ya Saad Hariri? Go figure. Illusions don't require shelter. What exactly is your much celebrated effort to extend government authority to the four corners of the country doing for these people? Why aren't they reaping the benefit of the Prime Minister's tears?

Angry Arab reports that Amin Gemayel allegedly attempted an assassination on Jumblatt and a few others, back in the day. Everyone on that stage has been involved with extrajudicial killings.

Except maybe for Saad Hariri (and perhaps Nayla "Cruella de Ville" Maowad) who was born and raised in Saudi Arabia, where you get your hand chopped off for stealing a cucumber.

2006-11-24T17:40:00.000+02:00

An excerpt from yesterday's speech by that inarticulate imbecile, Saad a-Hariri:

And you [the crowds] tell those who say about you that you are a fake majority, [looks at paper] we are the truth, and you are the fantasy. [looks at paper] We are the truth and you are the fantasy. [looks at paper] We are freedom, [looks at paper] and you are the fantasy. We are the national unity, and you are the fantasy. [looks at paper] To those we say, leave your fantasies [looks at paper] and come back to the truth, [looks at paper] come back to sovereignty, come back to [looks at paper] national unity, come back to Lebanon. And we will stay, [looks at paper] we will stay, [looks at paper] we will stay, [looks at paper] until the knowledge of the truth, [looks at paper] until the achievement of justice, [looks at paper] until Lebanon is victorious. [looks at paper] Long live the people, [looks at paper] long live Pierre Amin Gemayel, [looks at paper] long live Rafiq al-Hariri, and long live Lebanon.

2006-11-24T14:10:00.000+02:00

Domestic servants forced to demonstrate (from Nir via Angry Arab)

Read this.

Flag Fest Pt. II

2006-11-23T16:07:00.000+02:00

The media -- Lebanese and international-- is regurgitating the preposterous claim that Gemayel was assassinated to reduce the cabinet by an additional member. One more ministerial resignation or assassination would mean 8 out of 24 cabinet seats are vacant, enough for the "obstructing third" to bring down the government. I almost wish it was that easy. But the opposition doesn't need to use assassinations; they have hardly exhausted their options and they were poised to employ people power and do what March 14th did last year to bring down Omar Karami's government (albeit without the help of Saatchi & Saatchi). Bech at Remarkz makes some interesting points about the timing and consequences of Gemayel's assassination, and observes a shifting trend in the nature of political assassinations. Who stands to benefit from this assassination and what would the likely fallout be?

Pierre Gemayel's assassination threatens Aoun's position more than anyone else, and his alliance with Hezbollah/Amal. Angry Christians wouldn't dare set foot in the Dahiye or Shia areas, but they can vent their rage at fellow Christians who support Aoun's Free Patriotic Movement on their own turf.

Angry Christian youth burning trash in Achrafiye

By many accounts, the ruling coalition have been trying to lure Aoun away from Hezbollah in the past few weeks. Perhaps Aoun will lose some supporters.

I received some angry comments for writing that this assassination works in the government's favor. I did not accuse them of carrying out the assassination, even though I doubt that Syria was behind this one. The al-Assads have surely carried out assassinations which didn't end up working in their favor. But would Syria screw its allies like that, with no apparent gain? Perhaps, yes.

What I meant was that the assassination comes at a time when the ruling "anti-Syrian" coalition has everything to lose and an assassination of this calibre-- the killing of a Gemayel-- has averted the opposition's takeover, or atleast delayed it. Gemayel's assassination strengthens the "anti-Syrian" ruling coalition's case for the international tribunal and it keeps the opposition off the streets. For now. It also levels the playing field between the more popular and organized opposition and the previously flailing ruling coalition, which brings us a step closer to civil conflict. So any individual or group that wants to fan the sectarian flames could have conceivably carried out the assassination.

The primary categorization into "pro-Syrian" and "anti-Syrian" factions epitomizes all that is wrong and ridiculous about the political discourse inside Lebanon and the international media's coverage of events here. No one actually refers to themselves as "pro-Syrian"; its a blanket slur. Does being "anti" a neighboring country qualify as a political program? Or is it just license for cowardly yuppies to beat up Syrian cabdrivers and street cleaners?

A man with shiny shoes takes out his rage on a Syrian cabdriver

Pierre Gemayel was not first and foremost an "outspoken" "anti-Syrian" politician. Rather he was an heir to the disgusting rightwing legacy of the Gemayel's party and militia, the Phalangists; even within his family, he did not rank high in terms of leadership qualities. Gemayel was not killed because he threatened any person or power, because of his "outspokenness." Needless to say the assassins should be brought to justice; this atmosphere of fear and suspicion is very dangerous and everyone expects another assassination or bombing will imminently occur. Given the choice, I do have a preference for "clean" targeted assassinations using guns rather than car bombs. It claims fewer collateral casualties.

Robert Fisk, an unfortunate cheerleader for March 14th over the past 20 months, makes a similiar point:
"Yes, all five leading Lebanese men murdered in the past 20 months were anti-Syrian. And it's a bit like saying "the butler did it". Wouldn't a vengeful Syria strike at the independence of Lebanon by killing a minister? Yes. But then, what would be the best way of undermining the new and boastful power of the pro-Syrian Hizbollah, the Shia guerrilla army which has demanded the resignation of Siniora's cabinet? By killing a government minister, knowing that many Lebanese would blame the murder on Syria's Hizbollah allies?"

Also read: "Whoever pulled the trigger, Syria's allies are the losers" (Guardian UK)

Flag Fest I

2006-11-22T21:23:00.000+02:00

Pierre Gemayel-- "Sheikh Pierre" to his followers and "the Prince of Youth" to Prime Minister Saniora-- is dead. He was gunned down yesterday at point-blank range in Jdeideh to the north of Beirut, in broad daylight. An unknown assassin fired a dozen shots through the driver's window with a silencer-equipped gun.

Jumblatt, Saad Hariri, Michael Bolton and Nayla Maowad blamed Syria. The UN Security Council unilaterally condemned the assassination; and Hezbollah said the assassins were trying to sow chaos and civil war. Everyone left work for home in a panic when the news broke. Christian teenagers burnt tires and set trashcans on fire in the Christian neighborhood of Achrafiyeh and in Gemayel's hometown, Bikfaya. This all happened while I was down south in Aita Shaab.

I returned to Beirut this evening and drove straight into a horde of approximately 150 teenagers congregated outside the Phalangist headquarters in Saifi. They had arranged white paper bags in the form of a the Phalangist party's symbol-- a cedar tree that looks it was drawn by a four-year old. Not entirely appropriate for an organization with fascist origins.

The leader of the Phalangists' student organizations for all the Lebanese private universities -- a chubby young man in his early twenties-- said they were there for a "sit in". They did not want a big turnout tonight because that would discourage people from attending the funeral rally scheduled for tomorrow, he claimed. Speeches by the deceased Phalangist leader Bashir Gemayel and civil war tunes blasted from massive speakers perched on top of a pick-up truck. Youngsters waving the Lebanese flag, the Druze PSP party flag and photos of Rafiq Hariri circled the sit-in honking their car horns.

So who do you suspect killed Pierre Gemayel, I asked. "Hezbollah, of course," he responded matter-of-factly. "We will not resort to peaceful means anymore. We are ready for everything. We have nothing to lose. Our lives are not more precious than our leader's and he is dead. We will fight tomorrow." And then: "There will be a suprise." Sound familiar? The chubby student leader also informed me that he is still unemployed although he graduated a year-and-a-half ago, as if to lend weight to his claim that he has nothing to lose.

I spoke to another student leader of the Phalangists, who purportedly represents the party at all universities, public and private. He reiterated that they are "ready for anything", but took a more moderate line, insisting that they would consult with their allies before resorting to violence.

Just now a dozen cars operated by people barely old enough to hold a driver's license passed through Hamra and Qoreitem. They waved portraits of Hariri, Lebanese Forces flags, PSP flags and the likes, and tried their best to make a lot of noise. I have never seen the (Christian) Lebanese Forces flag flown in (Muslim) west Beirut so I guess that's a sign of how healthy and cross-sectarian the March 14th movement is. I felt sorry for these kids hanging out of the sides of their convertibles. Despite the fact that this assassination benefits the government, because it puts a hold on the opposition's plans to stage massive demonstrations this week and also invites international attention and hysteria over the death of another "pro-Syrian" oh-so-enlightened and inspirational figure, March 14th suffers from the political equivalent of penis envy. They might buy themselves a week or so, but no more. They can burn trash and beat up helpless Syrian cab drivers, but I doubt they can break the Aoun-Hezbollah alliance with one fell swoop.

There will surely be incidents of vandalism and possibly violence tomorrow, but I don't believe an all-out civil war will errupt. Pierre Gemayel was an uninspiring politician and -- by all accounts-- a slovenish lazy young man. Even if the hardened look of the teenagers present at the Phalangist rally tonight frightened me, it takes two to tango and they are no match for the opposition in terms of strength, size and organization.

2006-11-17T10:51:00.000+02:00

Hariri followers at his grave salute their deceased Fuehrer (from the Angry Arab)

Beware of Al Qaeda in Lebanon

2006-11-17T10:30:00.000+02:00

Robert Fisk points out that the new UNIFIL is actually NATO in disguise, and is building a Green Zone-style fortress to protect itself from Al-Qaedaesque groups in Saida and Tripoli who are planning attacks. "So Hizbollah will be the most powerful defenders of the European armies in southern Lebanon. Now there's something to think about," Fisk writes.

Al Qaeda in Iraq website publishes statement from "Mujahedin in Lebanon", calling on Lebanese Sunnis to fight Hezbollah.

The sound of impending disaster

2006-11-16T10:43:00.000+02:00

I have dreaded the morning I wake up to Fairuz’s voice crooning from every window in my neighborhood. And it happened yesterday. As much as I love Fairuz, the impulse to simultaneously tune into the infamous civil war soundtrack forebodes badly. A car drove by blaring Lebanese Forces anthems as I was drinking my morning coffee on the stoop outside my house. These days people shout and drive more aggressively; the chorus of screeching tires, verbal altercations, doors slamming, and car horns honking has reached a feverous pitch. Every TV and car radio seems to be tuned to the news. My head feels like it’s about to explode.

If the ruling coalition does not want to share power by granting a veto option to the opposition, which enjoys greater public support and fundamentally disagrees with the course (or lack thereof) the country has taken in the past 18 months, then they must agree to new elections. Are citizen's going to object to new elections more than this crippling state of cold war? I think not. It is dishonorable for the sectarian fiefs and business junta to wrangle at any cost for a greater share of the cake.

In my neighborhood in Achrafiyeh, the geriatric population linger at the entrances to their shops, fruit stands and bakeries, their arms crossed behind their ailing backs, gazing mournfully at the unfolding familiar tragedy. A friend who works at the Phoenicia Hotel says hundreds of employees have been laid off and the rest are working the same hours for half their salary. Those with means, young families and aspirations will pack up and leave; others will retreat to their mountain lair, and the burgeoning ranks of unemployed men will join militias in exchange for a regular salary, if the powers that be don't act soon to avert a crisis.

Can Olmert please stop hugging the wives and mothers of captured soldiers?

Why seek comfort in the arms of a man whose policies have done nothing to bring back your loved ones, but has rather -- as a pretext-- killed thousands of civilians and wrought nothing but senseless destruction? I find it rather grotesque-- this tribalistic culture of embracing politicians. I suppose hugging the President, Katsav, isn't an option; he'd probably just try to slip her his most sympathetic tongue.

If I was Madame Goldwasser-- the wife of Ehud Goldwasser, our very own warbooty-- I'd prefer to hug the lifeless Ariel Sharon. I'd bury my head deep in the folds of his massive belly and listen to the soothing sound of his computer-generated pulse. (And no there's nothing wrong with poking fun at the dead or semi-dead.)

And besides, Madame Goldwasser's darling husband is probably doing just fine. He is one of two very valuable bargaining chips and is probably snacking on delicious Lebanese mezze as I write; perhaps he's even picking up some Arabic, which will get him a good job in military intelligence upon his return. And Mr. Goldwasser will eventually be the one to bring back "Lebanon's son" Samir Kantar, who can then launch his WWF career.

I don't get the whole Kantar craze. I'm opposed to life sentences in principle, especially ones imposed by an occupying army against those who resist. And twenty-eight years served in prison is way too long. But if Kantar did in fact smash a four-year old girl's head against a rock after shooting her daddy in front of her (or did he not? I know a denial is in circulation, but I haven't heard anyone who can back up a claim to the contrary,) well then he is no "hero" in my book. Out of principle-- sure, release him. But it is not my priority and I take greater issue with the thousands of Lebanese and Palestinians -- men, women and children-- languishing in administrative detention. And those who have dissappeared into Syrian custody must also be liberated. No?

I have yet to reveal my full unrestrained opinion of Hezbollah-- the party, resistance, sectarian faction, militia, social service provider, liberator, cult, Islamic movement, divine, pseudo-anti imperialist, dash cunning, brazen friend and apologist of al Assad's Syria, patron of theocratic Iran, and occasional asskisser of the gracious-and-oh-so-merciful House of Saud. I will leave it for an upcoming post.

A cab driver who was trying to serenade me yesterday whispered, "You have eyes like Barbie!"

I laughed so hard I began to choke, and my Barbie eyes welled up with tears. "That's the funniest thing I've heard today," I excused myself. He looked hurt.

By the latest accounts, Hezbollah is gearing up for acts of "civil disobedience" (thankfully not "divine disobedience".) I have never heard of a group with 30,000 rockets at their disposal and a military capacity that far exceeds that of the state, biding their time with peaceful protest. But let's see wait and see what they have planned. Sit ins? Die ins? Pink ribbons? Blocking traffic? Chaining themselves to power plants? Graffiti? I say, take over and squat all of Solidere and (re)claim it for the people. The khalijis won't be returning to their playground anytime soon.

2006-11-14T13:27:00.000+02:00

From Sietske in Beiroet: "Vehicles you get stuck behind when going down South"

2006-11-14T12:30:00.000+02:00

How tall is Ahmadinejad? My estimate is 5 ' 2'' (~157 cm). Jamal thinks closer to 5' 6'' (~167 cm).

Here he is with Syrian President Bashar al-Assad:

If you can offer evidence of his real size, you will win a prize.

March 14th Go It Alone

2006-11-14T11:49:00.000+02:00

CNN's caption reads, "Six Ministers Quit Lebanese Government over Hariri Tribunal". Don't you wish it was that simple?

Yes, so six ministers resigned from the Lebanese cabinet-- all the Shia plus one Yaqub Sarraf, the jolly environmental minister, who is Greek Orthodox. I visited Mr. Sarraf at his ministry a few months ago. He sloppily downed one cup of coffee after the next, chain-smoked and laughed heartily as he ran from one end of the room to the other, shuffling through bottomless stacks of paper. During his tenure as Minister of the flailing environment, he co-opted March 14th's silly slogan, "We want the truth", printing "We also want the truth" on all the ministry’s letterhead.

In response to the resignations, March 14th decisively upped the ante with their current rhetoric. It's all the fault of Syria and now Iran, according to Saad Hariri. (Iran was previously exempt from direct accusations of obstructing the trial against Hariri’s assassins.) This wreaks of despair-- expanding the accusation of complicity to Iran. The sectarian media outlets are gobbling it up and fanning the flames. Naharnet ran a story today on how Shia children are brainwashed in school. Why does March 14th's rhetoric sound more and more like that of the White House? The Democratic victory in the Senate and Congress, the "new" policy of engaging Syria over the war in Iraq, might well see March 14th stranded. Do they really think they have guarantees?

The cabinet can technically make decisions as is, unless an additional two ministers resign, bringing the total to a third of the cabinet. After Sarraf's resignation today, March 14th "unanimously" approved the UN draft text to set up an international tribunal for Hariri's assassins. But they will never get President Lahoud to sign off on new appointments. Then again, who needs ministers of the environment, labor, public works, agriculture, health, energy and water, and foreign affairs, when you have the support of Jeff Feltman?

According to Al-Hayat newspaper, the Levantine branch of Al Qaeda issued a statement threatening to bring down the "corrupt" pro-Western government of Siniora.

"Although it was impossible to verify the authenticity of the message, Information Minister Ghazi Aridi cast doubt on its veracity Monday.
'There is nothing that proves that this statement was issued by al-Qaida,' he told reporters Monday following a cabinet meeting..."

And why does he doubt the veracity? Surely not because March 14th has been pandering to alqaeda-esque extremist groups for over a year now and ought to be getting it's money's worth in opposition to the Shia.

Dozens of busses were parked opposite Hariri's makeshift grave on Martyrs' Square yesterday, bussing in supporters to mourn at the site. Just in time, Future has printed new posters of the deceased, which depict the apocalyptic crater hole from the scene of his assassination. And Future TV runs dramatic ads of Saad Hariri placing the UN draft text for the tribunal by his father's grave, because -- as everybody knows-- saints can and do read. This is contrasted by a hefty montage of scenes of destruction from the summer war, and a final clip of the shiny and polished Solidere. In other words, Hariri stood for stability and prosperity, while Hezbollah wreaks destruction.
---
Meanwhile, the Palestinians are getting a new Prime Minister. A microbiologist, "US-eduated" to top it off. My friend P. was visiting his friend Hassan in the Dahye the other day. Hassan’s two-year old daughter Fatima was bouncing happily on P’s lap when news of the Beit Hanoun massacre in Gaza broke. Images of a young girl, the same age as Fatima, her face bloodied, being rushed to the hospital. Fatima stopped and stared at the screen. “Haraam”, she muttered.

A servis in Hamra has the following printed across the rearview window: “Why is it the victims are not allowed to ask questions while the murderer is having a good time? My daughter—I will never forget you.”

Sitting at my desk, I frequently imagine that the pace and pitch of noise emanating from the street outside has suddenly intensified. Did the frequency of sirens and ambulances increase? Is that the sound of people screaming in the distance? What was that loud thud? Why does traffic sound so frenetic? The variables for violence are seemingly infinite.

A stifling uncertainty looms over Lebanon, enhanced by threats, simulated raids by Israeli fighter jets, an uncanny ratio of 1 unexploded cluster bomb for every inhabitant of the south, and the inability to prevent it from happening again.

Haaretz reports that the vast number of unexploded cluster bombs in southern Lebanon is due to Israeli employment of "cheaper" American-made ones, for "budgetary" reasons. The "expensive" clusterbombs, which leave next to no unexploded munitions go for $10 a pop. The Israeli government promised the French to stop "hostile" mock raids against UNIFIL staff, but not against Lebanese towns and villages.

On a lighter note, Britney Spears is getting divorced from her trailerpark trash counterpart. “I H8 U Loser” she informed him by text message.

Does anyone else detest the "Incredible India" commercials they run on the BBC? I hate that commercial with the passion of Christ. It makes India look like one gigantic yoga retreat. Billions of attractive women in bright saris are itching to give your white ass a full-body massage. That laughing elephant at the end? Ditto for the "Uptown Cairo" commercial on CNN. Who would've known that fine dining by candlelight was the thing to do in Mubarak's Egypt?

Moldovan Maniacs & UNIFIL thuggery

2006-11-07T22:46:00.000+02:00

A selective news round up:

Of all the troubles I thought UNIFIL might be embroiled in (e.g. rape -- popular with UN soldiers in Kenya and Bosnia; killing-- popular with soldiers in general; disarming Hezbollah against their will; and attacks by Al Qaeda types or Israeli missiles), petty theft didn't make my list. Italian UNIFIL burglars are running rampant in southern Lebanon. Apparently they are stealing "boots and daggers". Perhaps they are duelling the Fijians for the love of some village beauty.

Hide your valuables if you see a guy in a blue helmet.

Meanwhile, Saniora denies reports he might meet with Olmert. It's like middle school all over again, denying you are friends with the "unpopular" kid. He reiterated that Lebanon "will be the last Arab country to sign a peace treaty with Israel."

"Bitch, never liked you anyway..."

If you haven't already, read Pastor Haggard's resignation letter, where he admits to a part of his life that's "repulsive and dark". And watch Colbert rush to Haggard's defense. The evangelical porn industry awaits us.

While we're on the topic of "sexually immoral" conduct, Ultra-orthodox rabbinical courts may place a "pulsa danura" against organizers of next week's gay pride parade in Jerusalem and any policemen who beat ultra-Orthodox protesters.

Many westerners think "fatwa" sounds scary. Pulsa danura, literally, means "lashes of fire" in Aramaic.(I'll take the folks at Haaretz by their word on that one.) And it gets better. The curse "is supposed to cause the death of the subject within a year, calls upon the angels of destruction to refrain from forgiving the subject his sins, to kill him and to call down all the curses named in the Bible."

Angels of destruction? Sometimes I wish I believed in this stuff. Then I could call on them instead of forever cursing under my breath.

Ultra-orthodox Jews should be scrutinized at airports; they boast quite a few terrorists in their ranks. And I have seen more than my fair share of gay stewards, who surely shouldn't be allowed to handle kosher meals.

Avigdor Lieberman, a boorish racist of recent Moldovan extraction, now doubles as Israeli Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of "Strategic Threats". Fresh on the job, Lieberman identified "minorities [as] the biggest problem in the world."

Olmert made a pathetic effort to distance himself from Lieberman's statements by claiming, "Lieberman's opinions do not reflect mine". He elaborated: "For example, we do not share the same taste in women and salad dressing. Avigdor likes bottle blondes, while I prefer brunettes; he likes ranch dressing, while I never stray from creamy Italian." Spare me, please.

Apparently Lieberman picked up the little snippet of wisdom from working as a nightclub bouncer. He must have kept those joints minority-free.

Second only to Netan-yahoo, Lieberman is the most popular candidate for the Israeli premiereship. Here in Lebanon we have Moldovan women, whose anatomical and artistic talent is appreciated by khaliji tourists in local cultural establishments called "super-nightclubs". It's too strange that a Moldovan nightclub bouncer might become prime minister in the Middle East some day, no? Pure racial strip joints await us all.

"Minorities. Yuck! I will crush them"

The guy next to me is playing a wargame where Iran, Syria and Hezbollah fight Israel. And have you heard what the current Israeli operation in Gaza is called? Israeli operation titles are seasonal, like squash and pumpkin pie: this one's "Autumn Clouds". Doesn't that make you feel like going outside to play in the heaps of fallen leaves, and then returning home to some hot apple cider? I find it quite perverse, endowing their killing sprees with cheesy poetic titles. "Autumn Clouds" sounds like the title of a generic landscape painting on display in a highway motel lobby. After "Summer Rains" and "Autumn Clouds", what's next? Let your imagination run rampant.

Meanwhile, the national dialogue is in its second day in downtown Beirut. Geagea and Aoun went out for lunch together. Geagea picked up the bill.

Despite their posturing, I suspect March 14th will give in to Hezbollah and Aoun's demands for veto power in the cabinet. If they don't, Hezbollah allegedly has 2000 tents ready, which they will pitch on Martyr's Square and on every major intersection in Lebanon. Their supporters will strike and stay put in the hundreds of thousands (or millions?) until their demands are met.

That's all for now from the movers and shakers of the cedar wonderland. Haaretz reports that Israel is preparing for a summer war with Hezbollah and Syria. Enjoy the US elections.

P.S. I will have regular Internet access as of later this week, so I can post regularly and sanely again.

Jordanian Mukhbarat & the Dynastic Duos of the Levant

2006-11-07T22:42:00.000+02:00

I was in Jordan yesterday. All over the world, people with limited knowledge of English rely on "number one" as an idiom to express satisfaction. A conversation with a cabdriver from Amman to Irbid. "Saddam number one. Arafat kteer kteer number one, number one, number one! Abu Mazen-- misch number one. Germany number one football. Brazil number one football. Argentina football-- misch number one. Fi kteer Yahud (too many Jews)."

The Jordanian army and police scare the living daylights out of me. I was on a bus full of Palestinian children. At a checkpoint, a Jordanian soldier got on and patrolled the crowded aisle, shoving his M16 in the children’s faces and shouting at the handful of adults to show their ID cards.

Our servis driver –a Syrian-- dissappeared for three-and-a-half hours on the Jordanian side of the border with Syria. Apparently he was being held by the friendly folks from the mukhabarat and we were left in the dark as to his wrongdoing and whereabouts. Finally he returned with his head hung low and declined to answer any questions. His trembling hands clamored the steering wheel as we sped through the border to the relative warm safety of Syria.

Crossing from Jordan to Syria, the dynastic father-son theme really hits you in the face. Within a few meters of each other, Hussein and Abdullah make room for Hafiz and Bashar. Surprisingly I saw many more portraits of the deceased father and his chubby offspring in Jordan, than in Syria. I have no love for the Jordanian royal family aside from their entertainment value, and unlike many from the west, I am not inclined to like Abdullah for his proper British accent. But the Jordanian royals are aesthetically less frightening than old Hafiz and Bashar, the chinless duo whose features are miraculously angular and shapeless at the same time. At the border crossing a real-life photo hangs next to a painted portrait of Bashar al-Assad; the painter generously gave him a chin, a more shapely nose and that steel-like stare. But he will never rival his father visually in terms of fierceness. They must hologram Hafiz's eyes; he watches you from every angle.

Jordan is the one of few places that makes me relieved to be in Syria. I was veritably ecstatic to see Hafiz's silhouette chiselled into rocks on the side of the highway and to watch moustachio'ed men sipping tea in the freezing cold at the bus station in Damascus. While waiting for additional passengers to fill the servis to Beirut, a fight broke out amongst a horde of teenagers pushing a tea cart. I watched from a safe distance and bought chewing gum from a five year old who promised me "no genetic". And indeed, the gum wrapper boasted "natural & industrial banana flavor" and no "genetic manipulation materials". I have never read the wrapper of sugar-rich gum; I wouldn't chew something that makes my teeth cry if I was concerned about the hazardous content.

Hassan's Halloween Address to the Nation

2006-10-31T13:06:00.000+02:00

First, some ominous news:

Bush claims the terrorists "will win" if the Democrats take the House and Senate next week.

The US is training "the good guys" in Jericho to fight Hamas. [In other words, the US is arming and training Abu Mazen's death squads to further incite civil strife amongst Palestinians.]

How Hezbollah is working "extremely fast" to rebuild its military- and security forces in southern Lebanon, and why reporters can't tell a Hezbollah fighter from a bike messenger.

Israeli mock raids over southern Beirut "heaviest show of air power since the ceasefire".

Reporting on the routine Israeli violations of Lebanese airspace has started to resemble reporting from Iraq: "It was the bloodiest day in Iraq since the last bloodiest day which was, well, just yesterday." No, but this time they dived down over residential areas and scared the bejayzus out of people. The Lebanese government announced that they fired anti-aircraft confetti at the intruding planes.

I would not rush to rebuild my house in southern Lebanon. Why not wait until after the next round and then invest in your dream home? Until then, enjoy your one-year rental courtesy of Sayyid Hassan and window shop, buy paint samples, and imagine how you could lavishly furnish a cozy bunker-bomb shelter for you and your loved ones.

I fear the Israeli government is thinking, "Do it twice, do it right", and is going to try to take on Hezbollah sooner rather than later. (Would later really be better?)
And "right" means trying to eliminate ze mozzerfucking tekhorrist Khezbollakh, once and for all ("for all" is a remanant of the old socialist character of Zionism.) Hezbollah's rush to re-arm and re-build the bunker network also indicates that they are anticipating a renewal of hostilities. Maybe I'm wrong? All you optimists out there, Jamal included, put in your two cents!

A young man with self-proclaimed close ties to Hezbollah (a generic pick-up line these days-- "Hey Baby, if you're good to me, I'll get us front row seats for Nasrallah's Ashura speech."), explained to me why Israel did not target Nasrallah at the September 22nd "victory rally". He claimed that Hezbollah threatened that UNIFIL troops would be considered hostages, in the event of an attack on the gathering. You heard correctly: they threatened UNIFIL through UNIFIL to tell Israel not to bomb the rally. Would Israel care, though? Would they listen if UNIFIL begged for mercy? What would they get in exchange for 7,500 Italians and Fijians? Well why didn't they attack the rally? Too many casualties? Old news, I know.

It's Halloween today! Let your natural hairdo determine your costume. If you're anorexic and bald, dress up as Samir Gea'gea. If you're a bald midgit, trick or treat as General Aoun. If you have a moustache and the cheesy grin of a paedophile doctor, you're Fatfat for the night. And if you have a full beard, you can either go as Hassan Nasrallah or shave it off into little patchy squares, apply tons of gel, tie your hair in a ponytail, and voila! you're Saad al-Hariri. Ladies you can choose between Strida (which to my Western ears sounds like a veneral disease) or Nayla Mouwad and terrorize the neighborhood on a motorbike!

Whatever you do, if people refuse you candy because Halloween is not a universally-recognized event, but rather an American-Zionist-capitalist ploy to steal Eid el Fitr leftovers, don't play nasty tricks, like igniting car bombs and tossing grenades. I myself am dressing up as a March 14th douchebag. I've rented a convertible for the occasion, and am practicing my pre-pubescent squeal, which I will unleash on poor Syrian street cleaners: "Allah, Hariri! Candy or your life, motherfuckers!"

Looks like we'll be seeing a new round of demonstrations and counter-demonstrations in Beirut soon. I wonder how many millions March 14th sans Aoun and March 8th avec Aoun can muster. 12 million? 15 million? More people than perished in World War II?

Sayyid Hassan is on TV now to mark the occasion of Halloween, which was the night when Hussein went trick or treating in Karbala, and... Never mind. It was a well-intended joke. Good night.

P.S. To the guy who posts comments on Naharnet as "Brutal Shiite", you show those Christians what it's all about. They're already emigrating en masse to Montreal and Paris. You get today's title for best online pseudonym. I thought I was doing well with "Karma assassin".

Postwar boom

2006-10-22T17:53:00.000+03:00

After the closure of Café Modga on Hamra Street, which I never had the pleasure of frequenting, a new establishment has opened to cater to the same crowd (roughly, local activists and the young intellegentsia.)

"Teh Marbouta" in Hamra offers free wireless Internet, inexpensive drinks and food, and a library/ reading room. It is quite cozy, and you can spend all day working there.

Since the end of the war, new establishments are popping up all over the place. Apparently there's even a lesbian bar called Coup D'etat. No men allowed. Except for the bouncer, who spends his time inside rather than outside the establishment, salavating profusely at the girl-on-girl action.

With the onslaught of NGOs setting up shop in postwar Beirut, many of my friends are now duly employed with decent salaries. Relief work is very lucrative for everyone but those on the receiving end.

That’s all for the good news.

A giant banner spans the width of Place Sassine in the heart of Achrafiyeh (Christian Beirut). It portrays Samir Geagea, the leader of the Lebanese Forces, standing next to Bachir Gemayel. Now I know that photoshopping the living and the dead together is a popular propaganda motif here, but it does seem a bit odd to see the balding and pale Samir Geagea leaning in towards the young Bachir Gemayel. Even though Geagea was probably born bald with a pasty complexion, Gemayel has been dead for 24 years now. His corpse probably still looks healthier than Geagea.

While many Christians support the legacy of "Sheikh Bashir", Geagea can't claim the same today. He is trying to salvage the fringe support he enjoys by associating himself with the bygone "glorious" days of the late Phalangist leader. Those days when Geagea, under Gemayel's command, went around slaughtering innocents with his bare hands.

The statue at Martyrs Square has a FPM flag (Michel Aoun's party) stuck in one of the bulletholes in it's side, which testifies to the fact that March 14th teenagers no longer frequent their base. When are they going to take down that tent?

That square really is the antithesis of public space.

Aren't the failures of the movement apparent enough without all these silly tents? Not that March 14th really qualifies as a movement; its more of a blanket term for a handful of sectarian leaders who have something to hide. Not including Nabih Berri who has plenty to hide, but now deserves the title of political pimp. He's the go-to guy for everyone.

Late last night, a Maronite cab driver informed me, in the midst of polite conversation about food and the weather, that he wants to "fuck Livni". I was trying hard to place the name. Livni, Livni... oh right, the Israeli foreign minister.

For a while the conversation turned to Israeli chicks, Lebanese ladies who "have nice jeans (or genes?), nice car, nice makeup", and finally French women, who "don't shower and are all boys under their arms". Presumably he meant that they don't shave their armpits.

Finally he showed me wounds he endured from an RPG fired by the Lebanese Forces during the inter-Christian fighting in the late '80s. He was missing a few fingers and had thick scars across his wrists. He is a die-hard Aoun supporter and even likes Hezbollah, because they are "good people" and don't "cut off the head of the foreigners, like you".

But he was quick to lay in to "the Muslims" who all strap themselves with explosives over silly caricatures. He removed his seatbelt to simulate a man with a turban strapping a dynamite belt around his torso. "What did Papa do? What did Papa do? Papa is good", he kept repeating. I didn't make sense of this until he remarked that "Papa is German", and I made the connection between the Italian "Papa" and the "Pope". "I don't care if Bangladeshis draw caricatures of Jesus," he insisted.

Jamal makes fun of me for taking the opinions of taxi drivers as an indicator of popular opinion. Well I do. And I conclude that many Christians support Aoun's strategic alliance with Hezbollah, while still holding the same old sectarian prejudices.

The entrance to Hamra and pretty much every major road in the city is now patrolled by the army. Traffic into Hamra is routed into a single lane, and people are being stopped and asked to present their IDs. The Qantari mosque has a massive military build up in front of it (in a mixed Sunni-Shia neighborhood). This is all part of the increased security regimen to prevent further attacks and the outbreak of Shia-Sunni hostility.

I suspect that this is photoshopped, but it does testify to the divisions in this country. The Lebanese who spent the war partying in the mountains on a voyeuristic visit to Beirut's southern suburbs:

Apocalyptic weather & Buddhabar under attack

2006-10-16T18:25:00.000+03:00

It is raining for the fourth day in a row. And I’m not talking umbrella weather; within minutes, the steep stone steps leading up to my house are awash with rainwater, carrying everything down in its path. People stand by their windows watching the apocalyptic downpour usher in the season known to Lebanese as "winter".
I am hopeful that the rain will clean the toxins and residual hazards of war from the atmosphere. And if Michel Aoun can’t stage a rally in this weather, perhaps it will keep sectarian troublemakers off the streets.

Riding home in a servis, I pointed to the site of Sunday morning's attack in Riad el Solh square in Beirut Central District. "That's where it happened," I said, as my roommate Maya strained to see through the rain. At about 2.30 am, unknown perpetrators fired three rocket-propelled grenades, allegedly from the very overpass we were crossing, into the general vicinity across from the UN, right by the yuppy Buddhabar. The Prime Minister’s office is also only 100 meters away from the site, as are many of the major media outlets. If you watched CNN during the war, this was the backdrop to all the talking heads reporting from Beirut. CNN anchor Hala Gorani – the one with the monotonous drone of a sleeping pill addict— paid her token dues to the Lebanese experience from here.

Naharnet referred to the building, which sustained the damage from the rockets as "residential". But this is misleading and hardly signficant, given the commercial and administrative importance of this corner of polished Beirut (nobody really lives there.) Nor were the nearby UN and Prime Ministerial mansion apparently the prime target; the rockets were fired from a distance of only a few hundred meters away and could easily have hit the UN. Rather, this area is prime Solidere (=Hariri) real estate and the pride of Sunni Beirut. This act was a brazen provocation intended to fuel Sunni anger at the Shia (and Hezbollah). It could have been Al Qaeda for all we know, or anyone trying to create sectarian unrest.

The government predictably blamed "pro-Syrian" forces. Ahmed Fatfat, the acting interior minister, linked this to assassination threats against himself and the Prime Minister.

"Fatfat told Reuters in an interview on Saturday that he had recently received a message from someone 'close to the Syrians,' telling him and Prime Minister Fouad Siniora to 'take care.'
The message had said the Syrians are 'more angry than they were before February 14, 2005,' the date of former Prime Minister Rafik Hariri's assassination, Fatfat said."

Of all the carbombs, attacks and assassinations that have plagued Lebanon in the past two years, it is interesting to note that the perpetrator of only one attack is known.

In May 2006, a March 14th deputy from northern Lebanon, Misbah Al-Ahdab, ordered his bodyguard to fire at his home in Tripoli. Al-Ahdab and the government hastily blamed pro-Syrian forces for this act of intimidation. Until the bodyguard was arrested and revealed that Al-Ahdab had ordered him to fire at the house to cause a media stir. After revealing this embarassing fact, the bodyguard, Jihad `Abdul-Hamid Al-`Aklah, was found hung in his cell the next morning. Nobody knows how he managed to smuggle a thick coil of rope into his cell. His family’s accusations of foul play and calls for an investigation went largely unreported.

As we were pulling up to our house, Maya asked the taxi driver what he made of Sunday’s attack. “The Shia, of course, are to blame,” he said throwing his hands in the air. “We Sunnis are armed and ready to take on the Shia if they enter West Beirut,” he proclaimed. “After Ramadan, you will be steeped up to your knees in blood.”

2006-10-15T17:51:00.000+03:00

Rockets Hit Downtown Beirut, Slightly Injuring 6

Back in Beirut: spies & kellaj

2006-10-14T15:39:00.000+03:00

Boarding the plane at the hellish Heathrow airport, it felt a bit like flying to Beirut in the mid-1980s. The plane was empty except for a few Lebanese and a handful of Europeans. Two francophone Lebanese girls recognized eachother and struck up a conversation (in French). When the airplane meal was served they inquired at length about the preparation-- was it broiled or sauteed?-- and insisted on surveying the dishes before they committed to either spaghetti or salmon. I felt like telling them that the food was British and, by virtue, boiled to bland perfection.

I carefully scrutinized all the non-Lebanese passengers; could they really all be spies? An elderly lady seated across the aisle might have passed for a missionary, save for the vulgar display of sunburnt cleavage. Why was she flying to Beirut? To learn to bellydance? The redfaced middle-aged Briton sporting shorts and a poloshirt was surely an agent for MI6. He spoke loudly about cluster bombs. He must be one of the spies posing as NGO workers that I've been hearing about.

The young woman sitting next to me on the airport shuttle to the plane was from France. She worked for a refugee agency in Beirut and was returning to pick up the belongings she left behind during the July war. "I was staying in Achrafiyeh and my apartment was in Hamra. It was too dangerous to return to get my things before I evacuated," she said. I didn't inquire if it was common in her line of work to flee the site of a burgeoning refugee crisis; perhaps she is a paper shuffler, which is just as well done from a remote, cushy location. Like Paris.

Upon arrival at Beirut airport, I felt like a kid in a candy store, grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of the sweet smell of garbage boiling in the Meditarranean sun. Visas are still free for European citizens; no questions asked at immigration as to the purpose of my 11th visit in the span of 12 months. Welcome to Jizzini's Lebanon. First stop on the way home from the airport: a kellaj stand in Verdun.

This morning, the rainy season began. A storm erupted, just as Israeli fighter jets flew over Beirut. I couldn't tell if the deafening noise was from sonic boom or thunder. Neither could the neighboring kids who started screaming at the top of their lungs. I turned on the TV. Apparently they violate Lebanese airspace on a daily basis.

The army is out in full force in Achrafiyeh. Previously the soldiers just stood around for hours on end. Now their mandate dictates that they patrol the streets on foot. A tank is stationed outside the UN building downtown; a canope of leaves hitched above the tanks allows the soldier on duty to nap in the shade.

The electronic billboard at the entrance to Hamra street tells me that 608 days have passed since Hariri's assassination. Soon it will reach 999 days and then the billboard will re-set itself to 0. I simply can't wait.

Over dinner at Regusto's in Hamra, R's mother, whom she refers to as "Information Central" called to say they were bombing Beirut. "Who is bombing where?" R. asked. "I'll call you back," came the answer. And indeed, in the distance we could hear faint booming sounds. Information Central called back. "It's just a wedding."

2006-10-05T01:50:00.000+03:00

Tomorrow I set sail for the old world, Phoenicia, via the not-quite-so-old world, old Europe. I am visiting the Frankfurt book fair, and will spend a few days with my family in Berlin.

Beirut. I look forward to seeing the sea (polluted or not), riding in precariously delapidated servises, instant coffee with condensed milk at Uncle Diek's on the Corniche, drinking beer on the cliffs at Raoche, all the iftars and Ramadan delicacies, rude awakening at the hands of the batata salesman, stray cats in lieu of New York City rats, call-to-prayer induced insomnia, my roommates' "Arab Lesbian Liberation Army" t-shirts, rallies and counter-rallies, sectarian bigotry, responding with stone cold silence to Abu Abed jokes, flying the Palestinian flag in Achrafieyeh, Cafe Younes iced cappucchino sans ice, and late summer grime and sweat.

Yesterday while driving on the BQE highway through Queens, two F-16 fighter jets flew overhead, breaking the sound barrier. Perhaps this is customary in the post 9/11 era, but it scared the bejayzus out of me. I instinctively merged onto the nearest exit ramp off the highway, only to find myself in a neighborhood full of Hacidic men who refused to answer my plea for directions. Perhaps they didn't speak English, or maybe I wasn't wearing the right stockings and wig. Finally a friendly plump Russian Orthodox girl offered me useless directions: "Go strayt, strayt. Nyet left, nyet right."

And now for a little music. While thoroughly irrelevant, this amused me. The North Korean Defense Hymn. The Wizard of Oz's "Follow the Yellow Brick Road" meets a Red Army anthem. They sound deliriously cheerful, those poor malnourished North Koreans.

2006-09-26T06:09:00.000+03:00

For those of you who care, I will be back in Beirut the first week of October to resume regular posts here. Sorry for the blackout. I had to wait for the no liquids/semi-liquids/gel-like substances policy to be dropped, before I could board a plane with my arsenal of gel-cap tranquilizers. I hope some of you will return to read what I write. I'm working on a book and am missing out on all the victory and counter-victory parades.

Here's a photo from Sunday's Lebanese Forces rally that George Bush can add to his repertoire of "Mission Accomplished" moments. Where else in the Middle East (or the rest of the world, in fact) can you find someone waving a US flag? Only in Geagea's embattled enclave of Mount Lebanon:

(remarkze.blogspot.com)

2006-08-30T22:57:00.000+03:00

I'll be back shortly...

Wedding in Dahieyeh

2006-08-25T00:22:00.000+03:00

2006-08-22T19:31:00.000+03:00

Soundtrack for every "Divine Victory" party in Beirut:
The Red Army song, "Katyusha"

2006-08-20T22:27:00.000+03:00

Drove to Tyre (Sour) and Abbassiyeh today. More on that tomorrow.

Arab Israelis on their increased alienation during and after the Lebanon war

Peretz announces that they are preparing for the "next round" of war

British mine clearance experts claim Israel "carpeted" the south with cluster bombs

Collaborators & the Return of the Khalijis

2006-08-18T14:37:00.000+03:00

First there was the General whose army unit in Marjayoun was taken hostage by the Israeli army. Instead of resisting the occupiers, he served them tea and strolled through the courtyard of the barracks with them.

Then the wife of March 14th Minister Michael Pharaon, Mona Pharaon, was caught on camera raising her glas and toasting the "success of The Israeli army."("Je bois a la sante de l'armee Israelienne".)

Yesterday morning I had breakfast with a close relation of my former roommate, at a little foul & hummus bistro in Hamra. She, a Maronite, spent the entirety of the war in her village on Mount Lebanon. Squeezed in amongst a horde of heavily perspiring men wolfing down a heavy breakfast on their way to work, she told me (and her Shia boyfriend) how she dreamed of visiting Israel as a child, to visit her high-ranking SLA collaborator uncle -- who faces 20 years in jail if he returns to Lebanon. (She wasn't a child in 2000 when her uncle fled to Israel, but rather a few months short of adulthood.) She added, "I was speaking to my cousin in Israel the other day. She loves it there. I used to ask my mother if my uncle had killed anyone. She said no. He was just responsible for delivering things. My mother never lies."

The foul & hummus nearly dropped (or rather, drizzled) from my mouth; her boyfriend and I stared at eachother in disbelief at this public proclamation. In a hushed voice, he told her to keep quiet as the whole restaurant fell silent. Seeking to alleviate the tension, she added that her father was impressed with Hezbollah's military performance when the fighting ended, and that he was "not with Israel, not with Hezbollah."

That same Shia boyfriend then reported how he had seen his family's house in southern Lebanon on CNN, as it was being occupied by Israeli troops. Apparently they showed Israeli soldiers sleeping in their beds. What a bizarre romance.

I'm moving to a new apartment for the fifth time in 11 months. Every time I move, I employ the services of a certain Zuheir and his red pick-up truck. Zuheir refuses to go "up stairs", because he -- a hobby physicist-- knows that what goes up most come down, a fate that he seeks to avoid in his line of work. He insists that he will help load the truck; according to his superior judgement, this is best done by laying the dishes down one by one on the floor of the truck and placing the couch, cupboard, stove on top of them. This is his seasoned strategy, perfected over the years; he won't budge. I labored to find another pick-up truck service to no avail. And the Syrian workers haven't returned, so I'll be schlepping by myself. And Zuheir will watch the girls get sweaty, and occasionally glance at his watch to indicate that he is in a hurry to do nothing.

My new roommate, Maya, works for an NGO that provides relief for the displaced in Beirut and to villages in the South. Her Sunni Beiruti mother complains, "Why are you helping the Shia?" But she admires Hassan Nasrallah and has declared him a Sunni.

The expected droves of nations eager to contribute to the UNIFIL force have failed to materialized. The Bangladeshis are keen to come patrol the south, but Israel refuses troops from nations with which she does not have diplomatic relations. That effectively excludes Bangladesh, Malaysia and Indonesia and a few dozen others. The French who wanted to "lead" the mission will now only contribute two hundred soldiers. Additionally, they demand a "clear mandate", as if dodging Israeli missiles accidentally lobbed at their outposts isn't enough to bide their time. They could also author a UNIFIL cookbook. UNIFIL "fusion cuisine" could soon be the newest hit in metropoles all over the world.

Dozens of people have been killed and wounded in the past week by unexploded cluster bombs in southern Beirut and in the south. A further casualty of the ceasefire is the return of the khaliji tourists, who fled Lebanon before Dan Halutz had time to sell his stocks. Apparently they are coming back to enjoy the rest of the summer. I want to rent a room on the top floor of the Crowne Plaza hotel, and drop pamphlets warning them: "Dear Khaliji tourists, as loyal allies to your royal families, we are giving you forewarning: All hell is going to break loose again. Leave while you can. Signed: The State of Israel." Or, "Saad Hariri would like to invite you to his birthday party/ barbecue along the Lebanese-Israeli border. Dress code: Shia. Bring your Hezbollah flags. See you there."

And this from Haaretz:

"Ministers recall that Olmert's aides joked about the possibility that he would make a victory speech in Bint Jbail, the site of Nasrallah's speech on Israel's spider web in May 2000. The Shin Bet security service's VIP protection detail would have never authorized this, but the mere fact that it was discussed is an indication of how surrealistic the conversations became among decision makers.

The IDF carried out three operations in Bint Jbail during the war, and did not conquer it because of its sprawling urban character."

Sprawling urban character? Bint Jbeil is at best a town, ordinarily home to 20,000 people. That would have been very Wilhelmian of Olmert to crown his victory in such a symbolic place on the enemy's territory. The Ministry of Tourism could then promote Bint Jbeil as the Versailles of southern Lebanon.

Maybe Olmert will give it another shot. The Israelis launched a commando raid today on a village in the Bekaa.

Not your war, not your victory

2006-08-17T14:43:00.000+03:00

We've barely made it to day four of the ceasefire, and already the usual suspects (Syrian President Al-Assad, Jumblatt & co) are trying to stir the shit pot. And many Lebanese are falling for it-- the old sectarian trap, and the blame-Syria-for-your-bad-hair-day game.

A few Lebanese billionaire politicians announced that they would repair the infrastructure in and around their hometowns/ political bases. Hariri Jr. and his aunt Bahia will pay for bridges in Saida (Rafiq Hariri's birthplace), Najib Miqati will fund a few in the north, and the Hjejj family will cover the repairs to the Litani river bridges. Who needs a central government?

Yesterday evening, I witnessed a friendly tiff between the owner of the Internet cafe and a client. We were discussing the arrest of a Lebanese Army general who was caught on camera serving tea to the Israeli troops that occupied his barracks in Marjayoun. The client interrupted our conversation and flew into a fury, blaming the Syrians for the weather, his daughter's promiscuity, the flat tire his car suffered, the acute avocado shortage, and so on and so forth. The owner kept trying to divert the conversation back to the original topic. To no avail.

In that same Internet cafe, there are three employees, all roughly the same age-- in their early 20s, all business and finance students at American institutions, all boys looking to have a good time. Two are Shia, one Druze. Throughout the war, they worked double shifts together to cover for the employees who had evacuated or fled to Syria. They were exposed to the same airstrikes, played the same video wargames, day in, day out. Now that the war's over, the Druze boy is the subject of endless snipes about his leader, his people. I always contribute, "You Druze, you lose", which is lost on all of them, and then call the two Shia "terrorists" for good measure. This lightens the loaded atmosphere considerably; they in turn accuse me of being a spy, to which I add "and a prostitute/Jehova's witness."

Amin, the owner of Cafe Younes, told me that 4 of the employees from one of his coffeeshop branches returned to work today. They are all in their 20s-- two Shia, two Christians. Before the war, they would hang out off the job, go to nightclubs together. They are friends. During the war, one of the Shia girls who lives in Dahieyeh fled to the Bekaa valley, which was also heavily bombed by the Israelis. The Christians spent their time up in the mountains in Broumana, a Christian area and summer resort.

They met yesterday for the first time since the beginning of the war. The Shia girl was exhausted and traumatized by the continuous bombing; the Christian mocked her for it. She asked him, "What were you doing the whole time up in Broumana? Partying? Hanging out at the pool club?" He retorted, "What else am I supposed to do? This wasn't our war. We didn't ask for it." "Well its not your victory, either," she snapped.

Someone go tell that to Bashar al-Assad, Saad Hariri and a few other party crashers.

On another note, I crossed paths with Sudanese man today who was wearing a T-shirt that read (in German): I am a homosexual, retarded, asylum-seeking foreigner in Germany". I stopped him to be sure I had read correctly. "Do you know what your T-shirt says?" I asked. "No," he responded. I translated it for him, and then added that I think it was meant ironically. He shrugged, and continued on his way.

I forgot to ask him if he retrieved that shirt from a humanitarian relief package. Do they monitor the slogans on T-shirts donated to charity? Apparently not.

Which international force?

2006-08-17T14:11:00.000+03:00

Will the international force to implement UN Resolution 11,798,701 materialize?

Here are some problems I foresee with the current pool of applicants for the new and improved "coalition of the willing":

Turkey: Lebanon is home to the largest Armenian diaspora community in the world. They don't want Turkish troops in their midst, and for good reason.
Potential for lasting peace: Bad. Armenians might take up arms. Why the hell not? Everyone else is doing it.

Indonesia & Malaysia: Indonesians and Malaysians were outraged by the Israeli aggression against the Lebanese, and many wanted to come wage jihad against Israel. Here's their chance to fight the Zionists.
Potential for lasting peace: Bad. Hezbollah won't tolerate attacks on Israel from Lebanese land, and this could increase tensions between Sunni fundamentalists and the Shia, especially if Ahmed Fatfat keeps his post as Minister of Interior and licenser of Sunni extremist parties.

France: Former colonial power in Lebanon. Represent interests of Christians and their current allies, the March 14th movement; cultural missionaries in uniform.
Potential for lasting peace: Poor. This whole mess (Lebanon) is their fault in the first place.

Italy: Many fans of the Brazilian soccer team are still angry about the World Cup defeat. Violent skirmishes between Italian and Brazilian fans errupted in Beirut.
Potential for lasting peace: Not good. Brazilian flags rival Hezbollah flags in some of the bombed out villages I drove through in the south.

Spain: Spain expelled both the Arabs and the Jews from Andalusia.
Potential for lasting peace: A big no-no.

Australia: Last year, hundreds of white xenophobic beer-guzzling Australians beat up Lebanese immigrants on the beach in Sydney.
Potential for lasting peace: Good. The Lebanese can retaliate against the white Australians on their turf; Australians can keep busy surfing oil spills.

Germany: The German foreign minister already said that they don't want a situation where German troops might face Israeli troops, because of the "past".
Potential for lasting peace: Very good. If the Germans fire at an Israeli soldier, then the Israelis could retaliate by bombing Mercedes and BMW factories in Germany, and occupy Bavaria. They should have done that 60 years ago, instead of sticking it out in Palestine. It's only fair.

Conclusion: Go with the token Fijians and Indians. They won't have to stay long, because the Lebanese are gearing up for another round of civil conflict.
(More on that shortly.)

Ceasefire jitters

2006-08-17T13:57:00.000+03:00

They broke the siege! A commercial flight is arriving from Amman this afternoon, and yesterday, some fuel. Soon we'll have avocadoes and electricity and imported everything again.

This from Monday night. Couldn't post it earlier:

Sitting in the lobby of the Mayflower Hotel late last night to take advantage of their hi-speed wireless Internet and generator, I grabbed Mohamed’s hand every time I heard a loud noise outside. “It was just a car. The car door of a big GMC being slammed,” Mohamed said, or it was just “a car accident”, or “probably a window was blown shut by the wind.” He laughed exasperatedly; I threw him a dirty look. The fourth of fifth time, I stopped believing him. “What? What?” he asked.

It will take a few days, maybe even weeks, for my body to recuperate from this state of high alert. But maybe unexpected loud noises will torment me for the rest of my life.

My former roommate, Sahar—- who is from Baghdad and lived through the first Gulf War as a child—- was terrorized by the firecrackers children in our neighborhood set off during Ramadan. They would diligently rig a trashcan full of firecrackers, and place it so the blast would set off the alarms of all the cars on the street.

Later we moved to a Christian/Armenian neighborhood in East Beirut. One night in April, which coincided with the anniversary of the Armenian Genocide, there was a series of deafening blasts after Sahar had gone to bed. That day there were black-and-red banners hung all over the streets which read, “We will never forget our 1,500,000 martyrs”, and a parade from Bourj Hammoud to Downtown to remember the dead. The blasts woke her up, and she emerged apprehensively and wide-eyed from her room, to join me on the balcony. We were both very confused: Could it really be that they are commemorating the genocide with fireworks?
Pedestrians on the street level above ours, which we can see from the balcony, stopped and gazed in the direction of the port. I called to a soldier, his M16 dangling from his arm, intently watching something on the horizon that I couldn’t see, and asked what in God’s name was happening. He replied, ”It’s Orthodox Easter Monday.“ The absurdity of the coinciding commemorations, a half-an-hour display of fireworks on the eve of the Armenian Genocide anniversary, was too funny. Sahar was dead serious; she returned to her room in silence.

I woke myself up this morning when I screamed, “No, please don’t leave me here alone.” I jumped out of bed, and raced into the living room. “Mohamed! What happened?!” He was hanging the laundry. “Nothing happened.” “Do we have electricity?” “No.” “Why is the sky overcast?” “I don’t know. Because its humid?” He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s going to be alright. Everything will be alright. There’s coffee.”

I’m a nervous wreck. I must stop drinking so much coffee and caffeinated soft drinks. I don’t need to be sharp; dull and subdued would suit me much better. I no longer trust this city; did I ever?

2006-08-15T18:06:00.000+03:00

What I'm reading

Seymour Hersh on existence of US and Israeli plans to attack Hezbollah and Lebanese infrastructure, prior to capture of Israeli soldiers

Head of IDF logistics branch says troops lacking food can steal from Lebanese stores

IDF Chief of Staff Dan Halutz sold investments three hours after soldiers' capture

Ahmadinejad's official biography [link is down now, but a real bag o'laughs]

"Returning to their homes, the people of Lebanon claim victory"

Victory, disappointment & Israeli army chicks

2006-08-15T15:01:00.000+03:00

J. and A. -– both business students at American universities in Beirut—are disappointed by the ceasefire deal. J says, “I didn’t want it to end this way.” He thinks the UN Security Council Resolution is too generous towards Israel, whose atrocities in Lebanon go unmentioned in the text, while laying blame for the outbreak of the hostilities on Hezbollah. I asked him if he finds fault with Nasrallah for accepting the deal. He replied, “Hezbollah often make decisions which don’t make sense to us at the time. We will soon find out what the benefits are.” J. trusts that they know what they are doing.

Most people agree that Hezbollah accepted a ceasefire with unfavorable terms, because it fears internal unrest. “They never wanted war anyway. They wanted to negotiate from the beginning”, another friend says. I am taken aback by the general consensus that we will see a civil conflict within the next few months. Maybe not the way Bush envisioned it—a successful uprising of Sunnis and Christians against the Hezbollah, as soon as the Israeli bombs started targeting civilian infrastructure. Jamal predict we will see an upsurge in car bombings again soon, as Israel and her allies in Lebanon attempt to assassinate Hezbollah leaders and sow fear and divisions amongst the Lebanese.

Driving around Beirut yesterday, I noticed that many more cabs and shop windows now display portraits of Nasrallah; even in Sunni neighborhoods where posters of the late Prime Minister Rafiq Hariri and his goateed offspring formerly held a visual monopoly.

As early as yesterday morning, some cars blasted victory tunes from their stereos. But the atmosphere in Hamra was tense; everyone I spoke to was pessimistic that the fighting was over. After Nasrallah’s speech, many people were visibly relieved and confident that both sides were committed to the ceasefire. Last night teenagers drove through Beirut in their cars, hanging out the windows, honking the horn, and flying the flags of Hezbollah and Amal, and portraits of Nasrallah.

A statement from the office of Prime Minister Fouad Siniora says Morocco, Indonesia, Italy, Turkey, Spain and Malaysia and France have agreed to send troops to patrol the south. I hope they open restaurants while they’re here. Bint Jbeil could be the ethnic cuisine capital of the Middle East! The Lebanese Armenians made it clear that they do not want the Turkish army in Lebanon. Someone remarked sarcastically that the Indonesians and Malaysians are eager to come fight Israel. We’ll see if this international force materializes. In the meantime, Anaconda’s conditions that there will be no return to the “status quo ante” in regards to Hezbollah, won’t be met. They will keep their weapons for now. Eventually they could integrate into the Lebanese Army as a special unit, a Golani brigade of sorts.

Unless the Lebanese Army splits and another Israeli/US proxy army emerges.

There were reports that the Americans requested a list of the names of Lebanese army officers who will serve in the south. They will not accept the participation of Syrian-trained officers, nor anyone suspected of “loyalty” to Hezbollah. Apparently they already vetoed some names. No Hassan’s, no Hussein’s, no Ali’s.

In the meantime, some Lebanese boys are sorry to be missing out on this:

Five-star bribery

2006-08-15T13:53:00.000+03:00

A car returning to southern Lebanon

In his televised address yesterday, Nasrallah promised to cover the cost of a year's rent for an apartment with new furniture, for every family that lost their home; starting today. Additionally and in the meantime, they will finance the re-building of their houses. One of the boys who works at the Internet café, whose home in Dahieyeh wasn’t demolished, joked that he would like to burn down his house to cash in on the offer.

The government is trying to buy off the Shia’s loyalty to Hezbollah, by promising to finance the reconstruction. "We have to treat displaced people as we would the clients of a five-star hotel,” the coordinator for Saniora’s aid committee told the AFP.

Nice try, buddy. The sectarian warlords and entrepreneurs who constitute "the central government" have always treated their constituents as clients rather than citizens, to further their own political gains and line their pockets. The Shia previously weren’t worth the “investment” to the Beirut power brokers, who didn't give two shreds about their living conditions. Now they are finally also entitled to the bribery and puffery! Does this five-star offer include the room service, available in many Lebanese hotels, provided by Russian “artists”? All-you-can-eat breakfast buffets, hot tubs, and Swedish backrubs for the destitute masses? I’d like to see the brochures:

“Dear Shia of the South! You are most welcome in Lebanon, the pearl/Switzerland/Paris of the Middle East/Mediterranean. Discover the land where the ancient Phoenicians, Romans, Ottomans, French [not to mention the Americans, Saudis, Syrians and Israelis] have all left their mark. We hope you will bask in the many pleasures our country has to offer, our beautiful women and near-extinct cedar trees. Here, you can ski in the morning (as long as the regular crowd at Ferraya doesn't object) and swim in the sea in the afternoon (if it weren't for those damn oil spills). Signed: The State of Lebanon.”

Rubble, rocking horses & the "divine victory"

2006-08-14T19:51:00.000+03:00

This afternoon I accompanied my friend J. to his home in Haret Hreikh-- a neighborhood of Dahieyeh that sustained the most intense bombing in the southern suburbs. Taxis were already back on the roads, circumventing the rubble, and honking their horns to attract potential passengers. Despite the uncertain durability of the ceasefire, many people were returning to stay. Others came and discovered that there was nothing left of their homes; they were digging through the debris with their bare hands in search of salvageable items. Amongst the smoking mounds of concrete, the odd bookshelf, half a bed, or a rocking horse miraculously survived the impact of the bombs. I imagine the previously unretrievable bodies of the missing will soon be found amidst the tangle of iron rods, the wreckage of stone, crushed appliances and furniture.

All around Dahieyeh, the rubble was cordoned off with what looked like ordinary yellow police tape. Instead it read, "RESTRICTED AREA- NO TRESSPASSING. The Divine Victory." A fashion dummy, which had toppled out through the broken glass of a department store display dangled from the electricity wires by its synthetic hair. Another precariously rested on top of the cables.

Entire street blocks have been demolished, leaving clearings amidst the highrise tenements that resemble -—in size and magnitude-- the crater left by the World Trade center attacks. Some buildings were hit from the top and had collapsed in the conventional manner, as if sinking to their knees and doubling over. Other houses were destroyed from the bottom up, sustaining damage only to the lower half; 5-stories were intact on top of the wreckage of the lower 3-stories, surrounded by a massive deep gorge as if the explosion had taken place underground. Much of the paved roads were smashed, exposing the soil beneath. People were wearing protective masks; the stench of garbage, sulfur, burnt rubber, smoke, and what might have been undetected corpses or dead cats was unbearable.

J.'s house incurred damage only on the first day of the Israeli bombing, before the family had evacuated. The Israelis bombed a road approximately 150 meters from his house, and a sizeable chunk of concrete from the site catapulted in through the open balcony door into his bedroom. Luckily, J. was sleeping in his brother's room downstairs; the concrete slab landed right smack at the head of his bed, causing the whole thing to collapse. It would have crushed his face had he been sleeping there.

Countdown

2006-08-13T22:46:00.000+03:00

Lebanese families in Baalbek hiding in a cave during an Israeli airstrike

There’s talk of a ceasefire that will take effect in 10 hours and 12 minutes. In the meantime, I hear a drone creeping up on us, as all other sounds of generators and the odd nocturnal motorcyclist grow dim, and you have ears only for him —-the unmanned aviator. You are being stalked by an airborne, robotic peeping Tom. What if he develops feelings for a pretty girl and no longer wants to level homes? I’m waiting for Spielberg to produce that heart-wrenching film.

They drop lots of pamphlets and flyers from the sky, but never customer satisfaction forms. “On a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate the value/futility/sleep deprivation/cunningness/brutality of our latest bombing raid? What is your opinion of the price to quality ratio, in human and financial terms? When dining on shrapnel and cluster bombs, how can we improve the experience for you? Thanks for your time. Please leave us your name and address so we can memorize the coordinates and serve you better in the future. We are an equal opportunity bomber. Signed: The State of Israel”. The signing off as “The State of Israel” is very telling— it’s the you-don’t-recognize-us fixation, as if non-recognition entails not believing rather than not accepting. Here’s the empiric proof that we exist, motherfuckers. Bang, bang, boom.

They leveled residential buildings in Dahieyeh today. 20 bombs dropped in a matter of minutes, and a few more in the evening. And again, a few minutes ago. My roommate Mohamed, who ordinarily lives in Dahieyeh with his family, called his home phone yesterday to see if the house was still standing. He hasn’t been back there since the beginning of the war when they fled with only their personal documents, a few sheets, and a satellite dish. And he hadn’t called earlier, because there was no end to the destruction in sight. The phone rang; he was ecstatic. We made plans to go pick up his bike and a few other essential items tomorrow. Today they bombed his neighborhood anew, and it seems they will continue through the night, until the last minute. Tomorrow the phone might no longer ring; the remains of his home might be indistinguishable from the surrounding rubble.

What to do between now and eight AM? What if nothing happens at 8 am —-kind of like the Y2K hype? Perhaps four months from now I’ll be sitting in a bomb shelter and trying to lighten up my neighbors with jokes about that that ceasefire deal, way back when, in August --or was it September? And what if it all suddenly ends, if quiet descends upon the land, and people crawl out of their besieged homes and villages to survey the damage, and infighting is once again the order of the day?

How did this all start again?

We’ll just have to wait and see. In any case, the clock is ticking. Rather than reaching the Litani river by land, they have finally realized they can just parachute down on its banks for the grand “Mission Accomplished” moment, the pacifier in photo op form.

Negotiations. Funny how that was on the table as an option 100,000 bombs ago. It feels like forever.

Escalatory ceasefire

2006-08-12T19:02:00.000+03:00

Ceasefire shmeasefire. It's the one month anniversary of the war!

I love the way both sides say they will abide by a "ceasefire" for which the conditions are further and further from being in place. An "escalatory ceasefire". That's elegant. Good work all of you in New York.

In particular, I love this: "Foreign Ministry spokesman Mark Regev said Saturday that Israel would press ahead with its military offensive in south Lebanon until the Cabinet approved the cease-fire deal. 'The logic would be that even in the framework of this successful outcome, if you hand over to the Lebanese army a cleaner south Lebanon, a south Lebanon where you have Hezbollah removed from the territory, that makes their [the Lebanese] troubles a lot easier,' Regev said.

A "cleaner south Lebanon"? Cleaner, as in smoothly leveled to the ground, ornamented with neatly arranged landmines and unexploded cluster bombs, immaculately decorated with squeaky clean oil spills, "martyred flowers" and hundreds of unburied corpses? Jeez, that does make the "trouble" of the Lebanese a lot "easier". Yes, in fact it creates lots of low-wage employment to be filled by the usual suspects, the Syrians.

I caught my first Israeli pamphlet today mid-air. I don't actually know who it was from, because it wasn't signed "The State of Israel". It added an air of mystique to the experience. For all I know, it was an unofficial citizen's initiative. I had to run and fight off hordes of children who stand and stare at the sky whenever they see the trail jets leave in the sky, in anticipation of material for building paper planes. It read:

"To the Lebanese citizens,
You can return the odor of cedars to Lebanon, if you want, if you shake off from your shoulders the destroyers of Lebanon."

What cedars? When was this authored-- 100 years ago?
The SLA must have advised them on this one; who else would have such a warped impression of the Lebanese identity? Probably more than half the country has never even seen a cedar; Beirut smells like garbage and gasoline on a good day. And why did they leave open to interpretation which "destroyers of Lebanon" to shake off?

But there was also a touching picture of Nasrallah playing hide-and-seek with his kids around a Christmas tree.

The war cost Israel an estimated $5.5 billion. The Lebanese government estimates infrastructure damage at $2.5 billion. Smart weapons indeed; those are some overpriced bombs that don't even inflict their money's worth in damage. And most of that damage was to civilian housing.

We'll see what the final temper tantrum brings. Only 17 hours and 45 minutes for Israel to indiscriminately toss its toys around.

Pamphleteering & career advice

2006-08-11T18:07:00.000+03:00

Israel has dropped 100,000 bombs and missiles over Lebanon since the beginning of the war. That's a generous ratio of 1 bomb for every 40 or so people on the ground.

My newsticker says that Ariel Sharon's son has been called up to serve in Lebanon. Maybe Nasrallah's son who is also fighting on the front will battle it out with him. If Sharon Jr. resembles his daddy in bulk, he'll make an easy target for capture; the ultimate war trophy. But Beirut is in his genes, so maybe that'll inspire confidence in the knackered Israeli troops. He's been hearing stories of the delicious falafel they serve here since he was a newborn babe. Except that falafel is no longer tasty; it tastes drab, like everything else. We talk about food all the time-- about cheesecake, and sweet fried plantains, and Sashimi, and Vermicelli, and salmon steaks.

I was at a cafe yesterday evening with my a few of my friends drinking flat beer; R. noted that the poster on the wall still advertised a conference on "Conflict Prevention and Transformation", which was scheduled for the first week of the war and cancelled. All over the city are posters and billboards advertising concerts and events that were postponed indefinitely.

Anaconda Rice has said from the beginning that there can be no return to the "status quo ante". And that includes Prime Minister Fuad Saniora. I suggest he take up stage acting, to further exploit his penchant for verbose melodramatic statements. What did he say? They "martyred our flowers", all the while leaping up to kiss the leathery cheeks of the enemy.

That line would just as well work in a TV soap opera. "Marianne, I can't believe you martyred the flowers I gave you for our anniversary." "No, Fuad, honey, I'm just trimming the stems. Please stop crying. Oh, dear..."
He could also open a candy store, and be a tragic, dopey, uncharismatic Willy Wonka, of sorts.

The Daily Star-- the biggest English-language daily newspaper in the Middle East-- has gone from a meager 12-pages during peace time, to an 8-page spread during the first weeks of the war, down to four pages. Four pages means one big page folded in half. They've run out of paper, not out of news to copy and paste from the wires. That's the good news.

The bad news is that there's no food in Tyre. They bombed southern Beirut from 4 am until 5.30 am continuously. When I dragged myself out of bed this morning having not caught a wink for most of the night, I saw pamphlets fluttering down from the sky. People were rushing to pick them up. I was terrified that they would say, "We are giving you 10 minutes to evacuate. Don't say we didn't warn you. 10,9, 8.... Signed: The State of Israel". Instead it was a list of 80-something names of Hezbollah fighters that have been killed. I counted at least 20 Hassan's, as well as one Mr. T, a Hussein Doubtfire, Divine Brown, Jihad F. Kennedy, Bobby Sue Nasrallah, Kim El-Sung, and Moishe Abou Ali. Maybe the Daily Star can start printing its drivel on the back of Israeli pamphlets and evacuation orders.

Ali

2006-08-10T23:42:00.000+03:00

Since the beginning of the war, I have parted with every piece of technological equipment I own. The morning the Israeli bombing started, my laptop gave up every sign of life. Two days ago I lost my video- and photo camera. I forget my USB memory stick at the Internet cafe every day, which exasperates the owner who rescues it after I leave. And yesterday, while rushing to a meeting from the site of the lighthouse bombing, I left my cellphone in a cab.

I noticed immediately when I reached into my bag to preemptively silence the damn thing that it was gone, missing. Having resigned myself to the loss of all other devices (I am lucky to lose a camera rather than a limb or loved one, I tell myself) and tiring of the meeting, I decided that I would fight to reverse my fortunes and reclaim my phone, by any means necessary. An American man known amongst my friends as "steroid activist", in reference to his obscene muscle bulk always on display in sleaveless sweatshirts, was holding a moving oratory about reclaiming "our land, our people"; I poked him in the side and asked to use his phone. Irritably, he complied.

I called my phone. It rang twice; a young man answered. I embarked on a frantic plea for the return of my phone, elaborated how grateful I would be, and offered to part with swaths of cash because it is all I have to communicate with the rest of the world in these difficult times. Expecting him to demand a sizeable ransom in exchange, as has happened with other persons who have lost their cellphone, I was suprised that he was eager to return it immediately, at my convenience. He said he had called some numbers in my phonebook to report that he had found it. I thanked him profusely, and we agreed to meet at Starbuck's on Hamra Street, even though he was at the other end of town. He said his name was Ali; I told him I am German, to avoid saying, "I'm blonde" on the phone to a stranger, in a room full of activists. I fled the meeting and hopped a cab to Hamra.

There I waited for fifteen minutes, pacing around in the sun, inquiring of every man who passed if his name was "Ali". I encountered two Ali's; neither of them had my phone. Finally, a well-groomed teenager who I took to be no older than sixteen approached me and handed me my phone. He smiled shyly and avoided eye contact as I repeated how very grateful I was and asked if I could invite him for juice or a fruit cocktail across the street in return for his kindness and generosity. He declined. We parted ways.

Five minutes later, I received a text message from Ali-- evidently he procured my number while my phone was in his possession-- which read:

"Hi, it's ALI. I don't know your name. If you ever need any help, call me :)"

I responded, "Thanks again, Ali. I won't forget your kindness. Emily"

Two minutes later: "Hehe this is the habits of the south of Lebanon people. If u like to have a new best friend am here ;)"

Followed 15 minutes later by: ":O I felt that u seems angry becoz of the 2nd message. I meant I want to be a friend for u like ur brother. When u need to talk to someone I'm here:)"

Bomb-induced Bulimia

2006-08-10T16:01:00.000+03:00

The episode this morning when Israeli missiles hit residential areas in Ras Beirut, threw many people into a panic. No one expects to die at noon; that's a breach of the patterns and rules to date. They just crept up on us from the coast and boom, Boom, BOOM. I was downstairs in this Internet cafe when I heard the first blast. I ran upstair and out onto the street. Two more explosions followed, one seemingly closer than the next. To my alarmist ears they always sound close, but this time people gathered on the street corner and pointed beyond my sight range to the road leading up to the Saudi Embassy. A cab drove by with a young girl and her mother riding in the back, both holding their heads in their hands.

Forget Dr. Atkins, diet pills, and Weight Watchers; bombing is the appetite supressant par excellence. When they bomb in close proximity,like they did today for the first time in weeks, you can't eat; the general sensation of weakness brought on by an empty stomach is indistinguishable from the near paralysis of fear and helplessness. Food would bog me down, hamper my reflexes; instead of jumping out of my skin, I mighy reflexively vomit. The latter does nobody any good, and scares little children. On an empty stomach, you wretch without losing your food and nobody notices.

Eating also requires patience that I don't have when the glass panes shake, when cars are tearing through the streets, people running aimlessly for shelter, having no sense of where the next one will hit. If they keep it up for a few days, everyone gets that hot gaunt look to them. No blush needed to emphasize your cheekbones.

Now there's a solution for those lamenting the harm inflicted by this war on the tourist industry: come to Lebanon for your terror diet. If you're severely obese, we can roll you down south where fear combined with shortages will forcibly slim you down. Guaranteed, or your money back.

For the persons who fled the bombardment in the south now forced to take shelter for weeks in Sanayeh park, the bombing in Beirut is unbearable. My friend K. who visits the park every day, says some of the women from villages in the south vomited when the missiles hit Ras Beirut this morning, and were crying unconsolably. So I was right about the vomit reflex. I assume that's why the Israelis aren't letting the relief convoys bring food to the south, right? It's a waste to feed people under bombardment if they just vomit it right up.

I am ashamed that I feel like vomiting over a missile that hit the tip of an abandoned lighthouse in my everyday vicinity, when I hear stories of a lone survivor from nearby Chiyah courageously burying 19 family members, less than 48 hours after their demise. Some people survived because they stepped outside to buy bread or a pack of cigarettes, and returned to find their entire family buried under the rubble of their homes.

Central Beirut hit

2006-08-10T12:04:00.000+03:00

Three very loud explosions in Ras Beirut, one closer than the next. All the cars on the street pulled over, soldiers and individuals running towards the vicinity of the Saudi embassy. An old woman hysterical with fear being dragged across the street to safety by her daughter; Filipino maids panicking, children crying. Camera crews on mopeds racing off towards Raoche.

Update: They hit the old lighthouse in Raoche, which is surrounded by residential buildings. Going there now.

Update 2: Four missiles hit the old lighthouse in Ras Beirut this morning, approximately 150 meters from here. The lighthouse hasn't been in use for decades; it is situated between the Saudi embassy's compound, the Hariri family complex and the Lebanese American University. Two people were injured by shattering glass, and the damage was limited. Ambulances and press vehicles were driving around in circles, because nobody knew exactly where the missiles had hit. There was talk of it having been just a "sonic boom"; I hitched a ride with a Pakistani journalist who tired of searching for the sight of the attack and took issue with his driver/fixer for wasting his time. Another missile hit near Prime Minister Saniora's house on Bliss Street. Israeli jets also dropped pamphlets over downtown Beirut warning that they would expand attacks on Beirut, as well as pamphlets warning inhabitants of the southern suburbs Bourj al Barajne, Hey el Sellom and Chiyah to evacuate.

2006-08-08T22:39:00.000+03:00

Uri Avnery on the "Junkies of War", Olmert and Peretz

Pat Lang on the Lebanese Army's deployment to the south

Vast majority of Lebanese reject UN resolutions that are in conflict to the Lebanese government's plan

Post-war fears & Olmert's wet dream

2006-08-08T19:12:00.000+03:00

The demographics and atmosphere of Ras Beirut changed when people with means and foreign passports fled, starting with the sex & shopping tourists from the Gulf countries, and thousands of displaced persons from the Dahieyeh and the south took their place.

Hamra street, which used to be mostly commercial with an ever increasing number of multinational chainstores, now has a familial small town spirit to it, with families hanging out on the sidewalk-- smoking, watching their kids play, bumping into other displaced neighbors from their suburbs and villages. Local businesses that survived no longer face competition from Starbucks and the Body Shop, which remain closed since the beginning of the war. They must have strict policies on not catering to their combat-zone clientele. But I don't miss the demographic that regularly consumed $6 mocca-flappa-poopachinos. And maybe my favorite coffeeshop, Cafe Younes, can borrow some coffeebeans when push comes to shove. I haven't heard any reports or evidence of looting until now, but we feel the shortages more and more every day. Soon the water- and fuel wars will errupt. Buy your Evian stocks now. I'll be using it to wash my clothes.

There are reports of skin diseases and epidemics in the overcrowded schools housing the displaced. A friend who works on the relief effort reports that her boss (a man) told her to distribute a single sanitary pad to every family. You get the picture.

But today was an especially glum day in Hamra. With the remote prospect that the Israelis might accept the presence of the hapless Lebanese Army in the south in exchange for their withdrawal, people seem increasingly anxious about their futures-- how they will house and feed their families, if they will find work, what the political consequences of this war will be, and what types of cancer and birth defects their unborn children will have.

The Russian UN Ambassador got it right when he said, that the UN resolution currently in play offers nothing "useful" to the Lebanese. No, it offers Israel everything it has demanded from the very beginning, including the exclusive right to "self-defense" in the name of which they can pretty much continue bombing until their heart's content. I'm waiting for them to claim that Hezbollah has managed to manipulate the physical laws of the speed of light (with the help of Iran and Syria, of course), creating mirages all across the country. They already mistook a well-digging rig in the unlikely Christian neighborhood of Achrafiyeh in Beirut for a missile launcher. What's next, in the name of self-defense? That kindergarden we just "liquidated" remarkably resembled a terror tyke training camp. We were sure Nasrallah's uncle's gardner's niece was playing hopscotch there. She had a beard. She resembled him. Not our fault.

Someone tell Olmert that "liquidate" isn't a nice word. It's just a tad too Stalinesque. Perhaps that term is part of his every day vocabulary, as in "I nearly liquidated myself laughing, when Anaconda Rice was in town. We had such a jolly time plotting the new Middle East over a meal of 'tasty fishes'."

Operation nocturnal gasoline theft

2006-08-08T12:11:00.000+03:00

The Lebanese love to drive big cars-- Hummers, Jeeps, GMCs. Principally if you own a car, you never walk anywhere, much like in the US. With the fuel shortage, fights have been breaking out at gas stations all around town; it only takes one person to try his luck by skipping the line and making a mad dash for the pump while dozens of people are waiting for hours in the hot sun. Then the fists fly.

Late last night I was riding home in a servis (collective cab) through Ras Beirut. We drove past a gas station, which has been roped off and closed for days; five or six men had cracked open the pump, and were siphoning gasoline in the dark. A man in a black suit was coordinating this, and our cab driver immediately backed into the station to fill his tank. There was a lot of hissing and whispering, as every car and van that passed followed suit, backing into the station, striking a deal with the man in the suit, and then hastily driving off. The cab driver explained that the man in the suit was a Hariri guy. Business must not be going well, if they have to resort to robbing gas stations.