| 22 february 2007 | |
| The Possibility of Hope |
|
The Possibility of Hope
An interview with Lebanese Presidential Candidate Chibli Mallat
By Anthony Audi
February 22, 2007
In the two years since tragedy struck Beirut with the assassination of Prime
Minister Rafik Hariri, the mourning Lebanese people have tried to resist
discouragement to create a better future for Lebanon. February 14 marked the
two-year anniversary of the killing, as hundreds of thousands came out to
protest en masse, condemning the brutal car-bombing and calling for a peaceful
solution to their country’s problems.
On the eve of the 14, I sat down with Chibli Mallat, a Lebanese Presidential
candidate teaching at the Woodrow Wilson School, to discuss the situation in his
home country. His Bendheim Hall office felt somewhere between homey and chaotic.
His laptop charger traveled over a chair and around a pile of Arabic Law books
to reach the outlet. In the thirty minutes that we spoke, Mallat remained
eloquent, confident, and visibly discouraged by the increasingly worrisome
situation.
‘There is no point in hiding ourselves behind the rhetoric,’ he explained. ‘In
Lebanon, we had a revolution without a revolution.’
Two years after the attack that triggered what has come to be known as the Cedar
Revolution, the Lebanese majority has spoken, while the many politicians
representing it have remained idle. A tribunal to bring Hariri’s killers to
justice has yet to be established, as Nabih Berri, Lebanon’s pro-Syrian Speaker
of the House, continues to prevent parliament from meeting to approve its
creation.
Mallat cited Berri’s presence and influence as a sign of the Cedar Revolution’s
failure. ‘We have a majority in parliament,’ he said. ‘It’s just not being acted
upon. Mr. Berri says, ‘I don’t want to allow parliament to meet,’ and so
parliament doesn’t meet. I’ve never seen that in any country in the world. If
the speaker doesn’t want parliament to meet, let the international community
convene parliament.’
Another obstacle keeping the Cedar Revolution from moving forward is the
Presidency, as Emile Lahoud, the perpetually tanned, perpetually pro-Syrian, and
perpetually un-elected president, remains in power.
When asked if he thought Lahoud would be replaced in the near future, Mallat was
emphatic. ‘I have no doubt the Syrians will prevent a change in the presidency,’
he said, ‘not so much because they like Lahoud, but because they don’t want
someone in that very important seat not to be like him.’
As for his own political campaign, Mallat’s words about the presidency were
somewhat surprising. ‘I’m mostly concerned nowadays by the fact that there is no
country to be president of,’ he told me, with a note of disbelief. ‘In other
words, if, as is developing, an Iraqi scenario arises today with a civil war
which starts, and we’ll never see its end ‘ then what does the presidency mean?’
The comparison of Lebanon to Iraq is increasingly common, and rightfully so.
With the Western backed and democratically elected government struggling to stay
in power in the face of Hezbollah’s belligerent actions, two clear sides have
emerged among the Lebanese people, with much of the conflict arising between
Sunnis and Shiis.
‘That’s very scary,’ said Mallat. ‘We never had, in the history of Lebanon,
Sunni-Shii clashes, ever.’
Mallat sees the conflict as more than sectarian, however. For him, the main
difference is ideological. ‘We have, I think, a revolution which wants a
democratic, independent Lebanon that goes forward, and we have the ancien regime
that wants the Syrians back and is attached to a brutal form of government,’ he
said.
To make the situation all the more worrisome, Lebanon’s Christians, representing
over a third of the country’s population, have separated into two camps, the one
behind the Cedar Revolution’s leaders, and the other in support of General
Michel Aoun and his ally Hezbollah.
Since Hezbollah’s kidnapping of two Israeli soldiers this summer, and the
subsequent war that ravaged most Shii areas in Southern Lebanon, tension between
the militant organization and the Western-backed government of Prime Minister
Fouad Siniora have continued to escalate, with no sign of improvement.
For Mallat, Hezbollah’s motives are simple. ‘Hezbollah has started a coup in the
summer, at the behest of the Syrians, to prevent the presidential change,’ he
said. And they’re carrying it out. They’re saying, ‘We want to take over the
country. We want the government, which has been established by the majority of
the people in free elections, to disappear.’
I asked Mallat how one could ignore as powerful a force as Hezbollah’s leader
Hassan Nassrallah. ‘Don’t ignore him,’ he shot back, without a moment of
hesitation. ‘I’m just saying to this guy, Listen, there are elections, there are
results to this election.’ If he doesn’t like it, in two years there will be new
elections. Let him win! I was particularly active in order to get Hezbollah into
government, he explained. ‘We got them into government, and they didn’t lay down
their weapons. Hezbollah comes into government, and takes a war against the
government, consults no one to start this war, and now decides that it doesn’t
like the government, of which it’s part - of which it’s part - and wants to
bring it down. It’s the first time since 1972 that you have free elections in
Lebanon, and they don’t want to recognize it!’
Still on the topic of Hezbollah, Mallat’s words became increasingly impassioned
as the conversation progressed.
‘They took us into a war that nobody wanted in Lebanon,’ he said. ‘They ruined
the country! They ruined our people, including a million Shiis who were on the
street, whose houses were destroyed. For what? Were we consulted? And then we
say we’re afraid of civil war. I don’t think it helps to come out with all
these, you know, sweet words,’ he said.
On the morning of my conversation with Mallat, two bombs were detonated on
civilian buses North of Beirut, in an attack viewed by many as an effort to
scare people out of protesting on the 14.
Protest they did, however, as the masses called for a better future, Lebanese
flag in hand.
When I had asked Mallat if a strong show of support on the 14 could lead to
change, he looked at me briefly but intensely, as if disappointed by my naiveté
‘Look,’ he said, taking a breath to work out his argument, ‘last year, like now,
the 14 of February, we had a million people on the streets saying Lahoud must
go.’ ‘We had an extraordinarily developed constitutional plan, which had been
agreed upon. On the 16 of February, we put the plan on the table, and it was
supposed to go through. And then, a week later, they give in to Nabih Berri,
bringing in the dialogue, and that’s it.’
He pauses, reflects deeply.
‘Since then, we’ve been on the retreat,’ he added. ‘So what’s the motto tomorrow
with Hariri? What’s their bloody motto?’
Their bloody motto was a familiar one, with the political leaders of the Cedar
Revolution calling for peace and unity among the Lebanese people. Saad Hariri,
the murdered Prime Minister’s son, echoed Mallat’s words about the importance of
a tribunal. ‘The international tribunal is the only way for a solution,’ he
said, from behind bulletproof glass. ‘It will stop the cycle of terrorism,
blood, and assassination that has struck our country for the past 30 years.’
As for the other speakers, their words were vivid, harsh and confrontational.
Druze member of parliament Walid Jumblatt, to give one of many examples,
compared Syrian President Bashar al-Assad to a ‘snake that all snakes flee from,
the missing link, the whale that seas spit out, a liar, a beast and a tyrant to
end all tyrants.’
Samir Geagea, the leader of the Lebanese Forces, hit even closer to home when
addressing Lebanese President Emile Lahoud directly.
‘You will ultimately go into the garbage bin of history,’ he yelled, to the
sound of cheers from an enthusiastic crowd. ‘The Lebanese people will regain
their palace and their presidency.’
Whether or not these words will lead to action is anybody’s guess.
‘It’s very frustrating,’ said Mallat, toward the end of our conversation.
‘They’re losing the country. And it’s our country.’
Let’s hope they can win it back before it’s too late.