07.18.08
The secret of Hizbullah’s success
I’m always writing to the Guardian complaining about the lack of pieces about Lebanon, admittedly not without the slight tings of hope that they will commission me to write something for them… But this piece on Hizbullah may be one-sided and flattering, but it’s refreshing to see attempts in the mainstream western media that portray Hizb as anything other than a bloodthirsty gang of Ayatollah Khomeini wannabes. It’s fresh up on Comment is Free, so jump in and join the fray!
07.16.08
Decaying human bodies: the currency of post-conflict bargains
Finally, two years and over 1,200 dead later: the end of the 2006 Israel/Hizbullah war.
At 9 am this morning, a long-awaited prisoner swap began between Israel and Hizbullah. After much speculation as to their condition, the Israeli soldiers that were captured in July 2006 were returned in long black boxed, along with the remains of Israeli soldiers killed on Lebanese soil during the Israeli invasion that followed the ambush. In return, Israel will return five Lebanese prisoners and the remains of 199 Palestinian and Lebanese killed in cross-border operations over the last 30 years, most famous of whom is Dalal Mughraby, a 19 year-old Palestinian woman who was killed in 1978 in the wake of a highjacking of an Israeli bus that killed 36 (for a touching recent interview with Dalal’s family, see here).
Despite the fact that the exchange of decades-old body parts and certain individuals convicted of child murders, namely, Samir Kuntar, could ever be anything but a dismal and grotesque ordeal, the exchange taking place in south Lebanon today strikes a particularly tragic note. Engineering such a prisoner swap was Hizbullah’s initial motivation for capturing the two Israeli soldiers, Eldad Regev and Ehud Goldwasser, in 2006. Instead, the capture sparked the 2006 war and Israeli invasion, which left over 1,000 Lebanese civillians and some 160 Israeli’s mostly soldiers, dead. Essentially, scores and scores of human lives wasted in a war that acheived nothing, and the initial purpose of which is only being resolved today. If only, like has happened in the past, the prisoner swap could have occured without such bloodshed…
Out of all the various media coverage of today’s events, Al Jazeera makes one particularly inetersing point, which gets to the heart of the strength of Hizbullah as an armed resistance movement:
“The Hezbollah exchange has prompted the public in Arab countries such as Jordan and Egypt – which have both signed peace deals with Israel – to question why their governments have not been able to repatriate the bodies of their soldiers.”
Indeed, this leaves us reconsidering the effiectiveness of Hizbullah’s tactics, most importantly the use of force, in acheiving their goals when compared to superficial diplomacy. It makes us question the extent to which measured violence directed at certain targets is or can be a legitimate tool for acheiving political ends… To say which is not a call to arms, nor a condoning of indiscriminate violence against civilians, but only to say that the tactics of armed resistance should not be immediately dismissed as “terrorist” or ”extremist”. Infact, what this incident shows us is that Hizbullah’s initial ambush acheived more than those who blindly follow the path of diplomacy, while simultaneously causing significantly less damage than the responsive use of force by the Israeli government, which was deemed more legitimate because it was conducted by a nation state, an army, not some “rogue” or ”guerilla” group.
Violence has always been and remains a legitimate way of pursuing political ends; the contestation revolves around WHO uses the violence, rather than the extent of that violence. Hizbullah is continuously demonized because it is a non-government actor who uses violence to acheive its war-time goals (Hizbullah and Israel are in a defacto state of war, and have been since 2000), even though its pales in comparison to the hell-fury that has been unleashed by the Israeli’s on both the Lebanese and Palestinian peoples over the last 60 years…
In conclusion, maybe what im about to say contradicts the non-emotive analysis that i just offered, and betrays the resolute humanist in me: today’s prisoner swap strikes me as particularly morbid purely because it is in the currency of broken, decaying human bodies that the debts of this ongoing conflict are being paid.
After all the bombs and fires and burning and screaming and bitterness and revenge, this is what it all comes down to: pieces of shattered bone, fragments of formeldahyde-soaked flesh, perhaps some mutilated organs or gangrene-infested limbs, contained in shiny, black boxes, baking in the stifling summer sun.
06.13.08
Karim Makdisi on post-Doha Lebanon
This is a really interesting interview with Karim Makdisi, a professor in the Department of Political Studies and Public Administration at the American University of Beirut, in which he analyzes post-Doha Lebanon. I’ve copied some of the most interesting bits below, but you can find the full interview here.
“Poverty has risen dramatically in Lebanon in recent years, especially in areas outside of Beirut, in northern Lebanon, in southern Lebanon, in the Bekka valley and also in certain Beirut suburbs. Poverty has risen tremendously. State services from electricity, to phones, to water have all suffered also. Today there are many electricity cuts, also many water shortages and the summer season hasn’t yet began where traditionally there has always been regular water shortages and electricity cuts, so in this regard many are expecting a severe summer.
Also Lebanon is experiencing an environmental catastrophe today, both resulting from the Israeli attack in 2006 but also more generally an environmental disaster brought upon Lebanon over the past years. Lebanon’s coastline has been almost entirely privatized or destroyed due to pollution. Lebanon’s mountains are also being privatized. Many forests in Lebanon have been cut up. Air pollution is very, very high, while multiple important international environmental agreements have not been implemented in Lebanon.
All these major issues haven’t been addressed by either side. Even the opposition, including Hizballah, except on the margins doesn’t really mention or talk about the economic crisis. Actually this latest conflict covered up a very important issue in Lebanon.
Trade unions in Lebanon had called for strikes across the country in response to the unemployment crisis, the economic crisis, the farce of a minimum wage which still is only a couple hundred dollars a month — nothing in Lebanon. All these important issues were to be raised through a general strike. However, these issues were superseded by a larger political fight that happened [...]
Each time Lebanon faces a political crisis, each time that Lebanese politicians are in a major disagreement they have had to travel outside of the country. This occurred with the Taif Agreement in Saudi Arabia at the end of the civil war in 1990. This phenomenon occurred again recently with the leaders traveling to France to negotiate, also traveling to many other countries in recent years for political discussions. Never holding serious talks or negotiations in Lebanon.
Now Lebanon’s politicians have traveled to Doha, Qatar to agree on something which is allegedly a purely Lebanese internal affair. However, this external negotiation process certainly illustrates something fundamentally wrong with the political situation here in Lebanon. No mechanism is built into the Lebanese political system to resolve disputes, to resolve disagreements within the political class, internally within Lebanon. Lebanon’s constitution doesn’t provide for it, the political process doesn’t provide for it [...]
Hizballah has provided many social services, they are very, very good in this respect, however they are mainly directed to communities loyal to the party. In other words, their social services to a large extent reinforce sectarian divisions in the country, Hizballah has catered to communities that support them because the state has often been absent within these communities not just today but for decades.
A real economic alternative would cater not only to one community but to the entire country across sectarian divisions: building national civil society organizations that can provide to everybody regardless of their sect or location in Lebanon, building a national civil society that is able to influence public policy, remain independent and be critical towards the government.”
05.30.08
the truth behind Hizbullah’s weapons
Forget everything that you’ve heard. In an epiphany, I have realized why Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah is so reluctanct to relinquesh Hizbullah’s weapons: doing so would entail the truly revolutionary act of changing Hizbullah’s icon, the kashlinikov-clutching alif (Arabic letter “a”) of “Allah” on its flag.

It is kind of difficult to imagine an equally-powerful symbol that could replace that image… A hand weilding an olive branch? Too predictable. A pair of hands with a dove taking flight from them? Too soppy.
They could get rid of the hand completely and just leave the alif but that would probably send very negative images about hands being chopped off in retaliation or punishment… So the hand has to stay. It could remain empty, in a closed fist, but that would be too reminiscient of ‘black power’. If it were unclenched, open-palmed, that would be replicating the symbol of Zimbabwe’s MDC.
So really, when you thinkabout it, all the good hand-images have been claimed already. And apart from merely imprinting a “void” stamp over the gun, Hizb really don’t have much choice but to keep the symbol and the weapons it represents. Poor blokes.
Hizbullah’s existential dilemna
“Nasrallah’s speech only reaffirmed that Hizbullah cannot find an exit to its existential dilemma, other than to coerce its hostile countrymen into accepting its armed mini-state. Very simply, the days of the national resistance are over. The liberation of the Shebaa Farms does not justify Hizbullah’s existence as a parallel force to the army, and it does not justify initiating a new war with Israel. After all, the Syrians have a much larger territory under occupation and have preferred negotiations to conflict in order to win it back [...]
Nasrallah has started peddling what he thinks Lebanon’s defense strategy should be. Hizbullah’s model is the summer 2006 war, he explained this week. But if the defense strategy Hizbullah wants us to adopt is one that hands Israel an excuse to kill over 1,200 people, turn almost 1 million civilians out into the streets for weeks on end while their villages are bombed and their fields are saturated with fragmentation bomblets; if Nasrallah’s strategy is one that will lead to the destruction of Lebanon’s infrastructure, the ruin of its economy, the emigration of its youths, the isolation of the Shiites in a society infuriated with Hizbullah’s pursuit of lasting conflict; if that’s his defense strategy, then Nasrallah needs to get out of his bunker more and see what is really going on in Lebanon […]
Nasrallah has a problem. Most Lebanese want a real state and most Shiites don’t want another war with Israel. Hizbullah, in contrast, doesn’t want a real state but needs permanent war to remain relevant. That’s Nasrallah’s trap.”
By posting this article I do not mean to participate in alot of the Nasrallah-bashing that has been going on over the past week, because I do think that the goals and means of Hizbullah need serious contemplation.
Obviously, Hizbullah’s resistance is not only against Israel, but the totality of American interests and agenda in the region, of which Israel is the principal proponent. And admittedly, resisting the global hegemon is a noble and worthy cause, to which Hizbullah has ensured the dedication of many souls.
I suppose the question that needs to be asked, then, is: to what extent is Hizbullah’s own prioritizing of resistance domestically hegemonic? It is fair to say that the discourse of Islamic resistance has been and remains extremely powerful mobilizing force for anti-imperial operations. Therefore, as with any discourse, by virtue of its power, it does marginalize those who are not in agreement with it. Particularly in Lebanon, with its infamous, and often volatile, mixture of ethnic and religious groups, Hizbullah’s monopoly over the analysis of the present ills and its vision for the future, and its claim that resistance is in the interests of all Lebanese, should be scrutinized in order to reveal whose voices are being either silenced or usurped by that narrative.
If one accepts that Hizbullah has two main agendas, one to end the systematic disempowerment of the Shi’a in Lebanon and ensure their representation, and the other to combat the forces of Western imperialism in the region; then we have to question the extent to which these are compatible. Does Hizbullah’s preoccupation with the ‘bigger picture’ of resistance to the Shaytan America, and its willingness to sacrifice countless lives and livelihoods in pursuit of that ideal, negate its commitment to the well-being of the population it claims to represent?
One could argue that the root cause of Shi’a disempowerment is the colonial legacy which institutionalized Christian political superiority in Lebanon, and therefore that destroying the cause will remedy the consequence. However, one has to be wary of conflating the Western imperialism of 80 years ago with that of today: imperial power is not a timeless monolith, but the forms it takes from one place and period to the next change drastically. It is deciphering and understanding those ever-shifting forms that should lead to Hizbullah’s assessment of how to resist, which could mean, for example, as Nasrallah alluded to his speech, becoming involved in the resistance in Iraq.
But would that really be a way of serving the disempowered of Lebanon? Is ‘solidarity’ enough to want to enmesh a population in more suffering, more bloodshed? After 15 years of civil war, 10 years of occupation and another devastating conflict six years later, surely Nasrallah’s support-base is finally entitled to a period of calm that allows them to experience some degree of the peace that they have been fighting for. Moreover, with the increasing possibility of peace talks between Israel and Syria, the ‘threat from the south’, ie the possibility of another attack from Israel, could be significantly reduced.
Therefore in many ways, I cannot help but interpreting Hizbullah’s dogmatic dedication to anti-imperial rhetoric as a compromise of its more immediate goals (ensuring stability in order to allow the Shi’a of Lebanon to benefit from the political gains that the opposition can forge in parliament), in favour of bolstering its own interests as a regional power.
The balance between pragmatism and idealism is a delicate one and needs to be constantly readjusted. Too often, history has shown the latter to lose out to the former, with tragic consequences. Will Nasrallah forge a new path in that regard, or will we witness, once again, the lessons of history not being learned and returning to haunt us?
05.26.08
excerpts from Hassan Nasrallah’s speech
7:24pm Nasrallah called followers of slain premier Rafik Hariri in the Mustaqbal Movemengt to benefit from the recent experience.
7:22pm Nasrallah vowed that the opposition would be represented in the government by Hizbullah, AMAL, FPM and others.
7:20pm Lebanon’s victory is in forming a national unity government, Nasrallah said.
7:18pm Nasrallah said electing Gen. Suleiman President renews hope of the Lebanese people and his Oath Address calls for entente.
7:16pm Nasrallah said we accepted the election law as a compromise to exit Lebanon out of the crisis.
7:14pm Nasrallah said state weapons should not be used to settle accounts with the opposition or to target the resistance and its arms.
7:12pm I support the Doha Accord’s call to prevent the use of weapons in internal disputes, Nasrallah said.
7:11pm Nasrallah called for launching the post May 25 era.
7:09pm Nasrallah said the recent developments lefts wounds, our wounds and their wounds. We want wounds healed in favor of Lebanon’s unity.
7:06pm Nasrallah said he accepts constitutional amendments to safeguard Lebanon’s Arab belonging.
Return of the elves
And here they are, decked out in their cute yellow hats and t-shirts, planting flowers and marking out parking spaces, in the newly vacated car-park in Riad Solh.
Goodbye, Hizbullah Cafe
Written on 21 May 2008
Ten days ago, the lexical set that dominated descriptions of contemporary Lebanon was ominous in its bleakness. Phrases such as “on the brink of civil war”, “descending into chaos”, “reappearance of masqued gunmen on the streets of the capital” and “the rising casualty toll” riddled media articles about the state of Lebanese affairs. Indeed, rumours were circulating that Hizbullah’s show of force would compel the government to capitulate and resign, prompting apocalyptic predictions that ranged from the imposition of an Iranian-style Shi’a dictatorship to an American/Israeli invasion.
Ten days ago, I sat in the office of a Lebanese colleague as she held her head in her hands and alternated between softly sobbing and angrily cursing the seemingly hopeless state of her nation.
Then two days ago, staff at my work were formally told to return to the office for the first time since the fighting that marred the first week of May 2008. The atmosphere was tense yet excited: while the trauma of the violence had not yet worn off, everyone was nevertheless eager to share their stories about their experiences of the siege of west Beirut, from hiding in bathrooms dodging stray bullets to eating cereal for 5 days straight out of inability to leave the house. Returning to work was itself a marginal return to normality.
And today, whatever remnants of fear that still lingered were swiftly swept away by the monumental breakthrough of the Arab League talks in Qatar, which have been going on for the past five days. They stood there and listened to the official proclamation of the end of the political paralysis that has gripped the country for almost 18 months and claimed more than 80 lives (deaths in recent violence combined with the 7 dead on “Black Sunday” in January 2008, the violence at the Arab university in January 2007 and other similar incidents), aware that five days of negotiations in the air-conditioned comfort of the Doha Sheraton seem almost farcical in the face of destruction caused.
In an announcement that came as unexpectedly as a flash flood, Nabih Berri (Speaker of Parliament and leader of Amal, one of the parties in the opposition coalition) proclaimed the end of the sit-ins that have frozen downtown Beirut since December 2006. At those words, a large portion of my colleague who ahs been watching the statement live from a television in the conference room burst into shouts of joy and congratulation. Our office building sits at the edge of downtown and in the middle of the tents that housed the protesters, and therefore the cessation of the sit-in represented not only an end to the most recent bouts of violence and political deadlock, but a very tangible return to the “good old days” of leisurely lunches in the restaurants downtown and brief strolls in the small park in front of the building; more than anything, a return to not feeling like caged animals.
As I stared out from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the sea of tents hat had defined my working landscape for so long, I remembered the beginning of the demonstration in December 2006, when I was visiting Beirut doing research for my undergraduate thesis. Three Hizbullah MPs and one Free Patriotic Movement (Christian opposition) MP had just left the cabinet in protest about electoral laws and their supporters were mobilized on the streets of downtown Beirut to protest against the government’s uncompromising hegemony. The demonstration was proclaimed to be the “the largest anti-government rally in Lebanon’s history” (Bakri, Nada (2006) ‘Hizbullah smiles on Arab League Plan, but Cabinet stays Quiet’. The Daily Star 12/12/06). On the day when an estimated million Lebanese took to the streets in protest, I was struck by the sense of exhilaration that permeated the air, with entire families out in the streets enthusiastically brandishing yellow (Hizbullah) and orange (FPM) flags; either one always accompanied by the image of the green cedar trapped between two thick, red lines, which I have always felt is an uncannily appropriate flag for the Lebanese nation.
I vividly remember the innumerable groups of youngsters proudly occupying the inside of their makeshift tents at the foot of Hariri’s mosque in Martyr’s Square, smoking shisha pipes and enthusiastic to share their reasons for their presence there, eager to express the reasons behind their revolutionary acts. I remember the contagious sense of conviction that their actions would make a fundamental difference to the misrepresentation that plagues Lebanese confessionalist politics.
Yet when I arrived in Lebanon one year later, December 2007, to start a new job and new life, the impatient magic of a nascent revolution had faded into a stagnant resignation, bred out of the realisation that change cannot miraculously occur through mere idealistic epiphanies, but must forced into being through sheer stubbornness and resilience. Hizbullah and the FPM had maintained their sit-in for a year without making headway in their demands. And as I walked past their encampments every day on my way to my office in downtown, I was always struck by the efficiency and tenacity of their set-up: they had run cables from satellites on a building on the other side of the main highway across the road and into the parking-lot that they occupied, bestowing them with television as entertainment in their seemingly endless task of protest. (By the by, this is not an uncommon process in Lebanon: every few apartment blocks share a single satellite dish and the cables can be seen running between the buildings. Our satellite dish is on our neighbours’s roof). They had porta-potties lined up on one side of the camp, and I never once smelled anything unpleasant from them. You could see the small puffs of smoke emerging from their furnaces in the winter, and after it rained, they would line up their foam mattresses and sleeping bags in the sun to air out and dry.
They also had set up a café on the sidewalk, complete with orange-juicer, coffee machine and comfy if slightly dilapidated sofas, the whole tent-structure topped off with a collage of images of Hassan Nasrallah. I used to call it the “Hizbullah Café”. Every morning I’d exchange greetings with the men who sat outside smoking shisha and drinking coffee while al Manar TV blared in the background, but I was too shy to ever purchase a juice or coffee. Maybe it’s because I never saw a woman there. But anyways, the Hizbullah Café always amused me because despite it being wedged between a tree and a road sign, despite it being made of sheets of tarpaulin slung over a precarious metal frame, it seemed so natural, so not out of place, like some quaint country pub that serves a village faithfully for generations. Furthermore, in the relaxed atmosphere that prevailed there and the politeness of the customers, it was such a welcome contradiction to the stereotypical demonization of Hizbullah supporters as AK7-weilding fundamentalist wackos.
Today, as I came out of my office at three o’clock to walk up the hill back home, I was shocked to see that the Hizbullah Café had gone, and all that was left were a few scattered chairs and a man rearranging crumpled pieces of tarpaulin. Although I had ventured out of the office an hour after Berri’s announcement, around 1pm, to join throngs of random spectators and journalists in watching the tents be dismantled with such unexpected rapidity and efficiency, I did not expect them to have already removed what was, for me, a recurrent passing outsider, the social heart of the protest. I gazed out over the parking lot that was once reminiscent of a fairground because of the small white tents that peaked up throughout it, and now all I could see were piles of foam mattresses and blankets, wooden crates, tables and chairs, various household cooking items, all being gathered up and put into the backs of trucks ready to take them to Goddess knows where.
In a previous post I’ve spoken about the surreal, almost mythological quality to the organization of the opposition, manifested in their swift removal of the roadblocks in Beirut last week. But the speed with which the tents were dismantled surpassed anything I could have expected. I’m still boggled by how, in a matter of a few hours, such a massive amount of manpower and mechanical resources can be coordinated and mobilized in that way. They truly are an Elvin army.
And as I stood there and took in all the commotion around me, all I could think of was that I had never gotten the chance to drink a coffee in the Hizbullah Café. It was there in the morning, and now poof, it was gone forever. While I mulled over a lost opportunity, I also realised that they had removed most of the barbed wire that had been surrounding the camp, leaving a trace of yellow, pebbly earth in between abundant patches of weeds and white and yellow flowers. I walked along that trail, turning to contemplate the TV cameras and satellite-topped vans perched on the bridge overlooking the increasingly empty lots, until I came to where the barbed wire began again. I diverted my path onto the sidewalk, and then stopped in front of another unfulfilled intention.
There, tangled up in the barbed wire, was a ripped Lebanese flag. It has been there for months, and I cannot begin to count how many times I have passed it and thought that that image, that torn, dirty flag enmeshed in rusting jagged metal, was perfectly representative of the state of Lebanon: trapped, broken, faded, but nevertheless persisting, remaining alive, refusing to heed to disintegration. So many times I have told myself to capture that image on a camera, but despite its poignancy, I never have; either not having my camera on me at that moment, or being late for work, or just simply procrastinating that thinking that it will be there for my consumption tomorrow.
This time, I knew very well that the flag would not be there tomorrow, so impulsively I started to untangle it from the barbed wire, gingerly pulling at the frayed material so as not to damage it any further. Afraid that someone might attempt to stop me, as soon as I had wrenched it free I stuffed under my arm and hurried along the road…
I have no doubt that the pessimistic predictions of last week will be turned on their heads, only to be replaced with such dramatic flourishes as “a new era has dawned in Lebanese politics” or “peace finally graces this conflict-ridden land” or some other proclamation. And despite the fact that the forging of an agreement and the scheduled election of a president, in which both sides made concessions and compromises, are no small tasks, I can’t help but being sceptical about how long this seemingly happy ending will last. Not because I’m a cynic or a warmonger or anything, but because the situation in this country changes at such an incomprehensible speed, it’s hard to not to think that the tables won’t turn again unexpectedly. I mean, in the space of 14 days, we have gone from living in a strenuous stalemate, to a loud, scary near-civil war, then back to a healthy, functioning democracy. All that in a mere14 days?!
In the celebrations that will undoubtedly follow the end of the sit-in and the election of a president, what no one must forget is that it was the use of violence that got everyone to this point. Paradoxically, the guns brought the peace. And that is a very, very dangerous precedent, because can a peace achieved through violence last? And how long will it take before another person’s definition of ‘peace’ is to be delivered through the barrel of a gun?
Let us hope for the best, but nevertheless be wary in that hope.
the shoemaker’s elves
Written on 16 May 2008
And like little mythical creatures that only operate at night, by this morning Hizbullah had removed all the roadblocks in Beirut… The city is back to its normal, noisy, bustling and vibrant self, and i’m sure tonight we will all be celebrating…


08.01.08
Hizbullah’s existential dilemna, part II
Posted in Comment tagged civil war, Hizbullah, Lebanese politics, Lebanon, resistance at 12:03 pm by lilithhope
This is a piece that i wrote after the July’s prisoner swap which questions the existence of Hizbullah in a post-resistance frame.
I submitted to a few online mags, but no-one wanted it because it is apparently ‘too speculative’… Behold, the bitterness of rejection!
Admittedly, i accept that critique, and acknowledge my weak (read: non-existant) journalistic foundations and tendencies to be more imaginative/conceptual than hard-core-factual. I nevertheless think that some points raised are important, but check it out and see for yourselves:
Hizbullah’s existential dilemna
Two weeks ago saw return of the last Lebanese prisoners held in Israeli jails to Lebanon, an event that was greeted with jubilant celebrations all over the country, from the Israeli-Lebanese border to Beirut’s southern suburbs, Al Dahiyyeh, which were transformed into a veritable fairground of festivities: swelling tides of proud yellow and green dotted with crests of white and red; the sharp crackle of and pop of fireworks as they briefly cast the shadows of flags on the faces of those assembled; the occasional rattle of celebratory gunfire, despite it being previously discouraged; and the nearly-tangible sense of euphoria infiltrating the narrow spaces between the tens of thousands that had gathered for the occasion. Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, the chairman of Hizbullah, made his first public appearance since July 2006 and addressed the heaving, boisterous crowd before him by saying that “The true, original and permanent identity of our region’s peoples and our nation is that of resistance”.
The popular elation was reflected in the highest echelons of the government and hailed as a national victory for Lebanon by politicians from across the spectrum, including Nasrallah’s arch-rivals Parliamentary majority leader Saad Hariri and Progressive Socialist Party leader Walid Jumblatt, whose latest reconciliatory comments are far removed from the tone he struck earlier this year by accusing Hizbullah of being a “totalitarian party”. No measure was spared by the government in showing their support for the prisoners’ release: a national holiday was declared and the returning prisoners receiving a Presidential welcoming at Beirut International airport, during which President Michel Suleiman proclaimed “Your return is a new victory and the future in your presence will be a path through which we will achieve sovereignty on out land and freedom for our people”.
Wednesday’s prisoner swap saw the return of the remains of 199 Palestinian and Lebanese fighters who had died in operations on Israeli soil and the last 5 Lebanese prisoners being held in Israeli jails, the most famous of whom is Samir Qantar, renown for both the intense emotional reaction to his crime, which involved the violent killing of a four-year-old girl, and the fact that he was the longest Arab prisoner to be held in Israel. In exchange, Hizbullah returned the bodies of two Israeli soldiers, Eldad Regev and Ehud Goldwasser, captured by Hizbullah in July 2006 in a raid which sparked a war that claimed the lives of over 1,200 Lebanese, mostly civilians, and 160 Israelis, mostly soldiers. The swap deal proved controversial in Israel, and the solemn atmosphere that prevailed there upon the return of the bodies of the captured soldiers and the remains others killed during the 2006 war stood in sharp contrast to the festivities in the Lebanese capital, which were widely criticised in the international media as the glorification of murderers.
But for many in Lebanon and the wider Arab world, Hizbullah had every reason to celebrate the return of the prisoners, claiming that it was both a symbolic and strategic victory. Symbolically, it was the final stage in the chain of events that sparked the 2006 July War; while strategically it proved the effectiveness of a well-organized armed resistance and precise guerrilla warfare tactics in achieving political ends, especially when compared to the sheer inefficiency of the docile diplomacy currently being pursued by other Arab countries, such as Egypt and Jordan, and Mahmood Abbas’ Palestinian Authority.
However, it would seem that the fanfare is now over and everyone has woken up the morning after with an emotional hangover from the previous night’s sentimental indulgences. Against the background of several factors, including the continuing process to implement the Doha agreement by achieving national unity, of which one of the components is a framework for Hizbullah’s disarmament and incorporation of its military capacities into the national army and current speculation as to a possible Israeli withdrawal from the Shebaa Farms, some serious issues related to Hizbullah’s very raison d’être as an Islamic resistance movement invite scrutiny.
On the one hand, the recent prisoner swap was the last of a string of successes for the group in its self-proclaimed task of rejecting occupation, tyranny and foreign interests in Lebanon. Prior successes were the liberation of most of Lebanon’s territory from a twenty year-long Israeli occupation, conducting a successful prisoner exchange in 2004 and shattering the myth of an undefeatable Israeli Defence Forces (IDF).
But on the other hand, now that all Lebanese prisoners held in Israeli jails have been released and there is talk of a diplomatic solution to the Shebaa farms, criteria that priorly justified armed resistance, will Hizbullah now be struggling to legitimise the possession of its arms, and more generally its very existence as a resistance movement? For Samir Qantar, the answer to that as yet unspoken question was definitely ‘no’. During a speech made at a welcome rally held upon his return to his hometown of Aabey, east of Beirut, Qantar stated that “Whoever believes that liberating Shebaa Farms would put an end to the resistance is deluded. This enemy would not leave us alone”. To support his point, he drew on several examples: “Look at the way they treated the people who signed treaties with them [...] Look at what they did to former Palestinian President Yasser Arafat,” he added, indirectly accusing Israel of aggravating the causes that led to the Palestinian leader’s death in November 2004. Qantar was adamant about the continuing relevance of the resistance: “The resistance would persist after (liberating) Shebaa Farms and after and after that”.
Admittedly, there is significant weight to the argument that even if Israel ceases to occupy Lebanese territory, its mere existence as a state with an ideological grounding in and a historic record of territorial expansion render it a de facto threat to Lebanese national sovereignty. Yet is that threat, that potential of future violence, enough to legitimise a continued, armed, Hizbullah resistance, as opposed to a non-religiously motivated, non-sectarian national army who would play the role of protectors? It seems that to say so, to agree that Hizbullah’s armed militia wing is still relevant in a Lebanon post-Israeli occupation, would to be to shift the discourse of protection to one of prevention, and, consequently, possibly pre-emption. And that last stage, pre-emptiveness, would be highly volatile simply because the lines of ‘aggressor’ and ‘aggressed’ become so blurred that the claims of oppression, repression, persecution or intimidation that inform and justify resistance are turned on their heads.
Despite the rhetoric of national unity used by ever-shifting politicians and the positive publicity generated by this latest victory, the question of whether or not Hizbullah’s prioritization of resistance is compatible with the economic, social and political sustainability and flourishing of the Lebanese nation remains a pressing one. For example, outside the frame of resistance, what sort of direction does Hizbullah offer for Lebanon as a whole? Does Hizbullah’s existence as an Islamic resistance movement offer viable vision and direction for the diverse Lebanese polity? Or does perpetuating domestic resistance as part of a broader Arab, Islamic or anti-imperialist agenda marginalize other pressing social, economic and political concerns of the Lebanese?
Nasrallah has always suppoted the Palestinian resistance and has recently voiced his solidarity with the current resistance movement against the occupying American forces in Iraq. The extent to which such pan-Arab anti-imperialist sentiment is peddled by Hizbullah to its supporters was manifested in banners that were hung on the road to Aabey, which read: “From Palestine to Iraq to Lebanon, the resistance is victorious”. Reciprocally, other resistance movements perceive of Hizbullah’s most recent success as setting a precedent for the type of strategy that are effective means of attaining certain goals. For example, Hamas released a statement in response to the prisoners’ releases saying that it strengthened its own campaign for the release of hundreds of Palestinians being held in Israeli jails in return for captured Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit. And when Hizbullah Cabinet Minister Mohammed Fneish states: “We all agree that the enemy understands only the language of force”, there is no illusion as to the wide-ranging implications of his statement for resistance movements in the region.
But the history of Lebanon as a beacon for anti-imperialist struggles is not a bright one, and one only has to cast one’s mind back to the humiliating evacuation of Yasser Arafat and his Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) fighters from Beirut in August 1982 to remember that using Lebanese soil as a platform for fighting regional battles has been met with much internal resistance. Obviously, Hizbullah is Lebanese, and therefore musters much more national legitimacy than the PLO, but Hizbullah’s appeal to solidarity with Arab or Islamic resistance causes are nevertheless met with heightened weariness in many Lebanese circles. Understandably so, given the massive material and psychological damage, not to mention the tragic civilian death tolls, of both the Civil War years and the 2006 war.
Many Lebanese are, quite simply, eager to live peaceful lives in which they can access education and health services, provide for their families and access stimulating employment opportunities. In today’s Lebanon, such basic demands are immensely problematic, with unemployment standing at some 20% and social strife being magnified by rising oil and food prices. Encountered with such a sad state of domestic affairs, the question that arises is to what extent resistance should be made a priority of the state. To secure one’s borders and prevent external aggression is one matter, but to jeopardize livelihoods in the name of an ideological commitment to supra-national causes is a very different matter.
Consequently, one is compelled to ask whether or not Hizbullah’s focus on resistance is perpetuated at the expense of solving other very real national social, political and economic issues. For example, while Hizbullah does serve the vital role of representing the Lebanese Shi’a, during the recent endeavours to form a Cabinet Hizbullah was offered three seats but only accepted one, the Labour Ministry, preferring to allocate the other two seats to its allies in the opposition. Consequently, Hizbullah’s clout in the current government is considerably reduced, which could be considered as the party not fulfilling its political responsibility to adequately represent its constituency. The reason for Hizbullah’s choice to minimize its part in the government could be interpreted as a desire to be as separate as possible from governmental functioning and leave the notoriously dirty work of Lebanese politics to its opposition allies. Maintaining such a separation reinforces the perception that Hizbullah is a group that is not tarnished by the shady goings on of the political elite, and thereby preserves its ideological integrity. But there again, should a pragmatic political agenda, including representation and participation, be subsumed to conceptual purity?
Another example of the Hizbullah’s prioritization of resistance over domestic issues is to note that the catalysts for last May’s violent clashes in Beirut, in which government and opposition forces took to the streets in 3 days of street battles that left over 60 dead, were a strike and demonstration organised by a national trade union in order to pressure the government into raising the minimum wage. But the demonstration never took place, an instead the instability initiated by the strike was used as a springboard to launch a greater civil disobedience campaign which quickly snowballed into clashes between government and opposition supporters. Famously, the signing of the Doha agreement put an end to those clashes, even though unrest and street violence currently continue in Tripoli. Yet in the midst of May’s violence, politicking, factional muscle-shows and the subsequent high-profile international conference, the issue of the minimum wage was silenced, and remains unsolved to this day.
There is no doubt that Hizbullah’s social record of compensating for the state’s dire lack of providing for its population, especially Lebanon’s most disenfranchised citizens, the Shi’a, is commendable. Their social welfare programmes boast successful education facilities, health services, orphanages and support for the homeless. Verily, such programmes do provide a blueprint for welfare services that should be provided by the state to all sections of society, regardless of religion or class. But, so far, Hizbullah has not indicated that it intends to provide any non-Shi’a Lebanese with anything more than a psychological sense of national pride. True to the sectarian system that precedes it, has not extended the hand of welfare beyond the constituency from which it obtains the most support. Logistically, one could assume that if the political will were present, Hizbullah could extend its social services to other marginalised groups in Lebanon, even possibly migrant workers or refugees. But Hizbullah falls into the same trap as every other Lebanese political party of spouting nationalist rhetoric but lacking in pragmatic non-sectarian action.
In the wake of the recent events, there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that Hizbullah remains a very powerful force in Lebanon and the region as a whole. But, when one considers the long-term direction of the movement and its viability as a political force in Lebanon outside a framework of resistance, many conceptual and pragmatic lacunae appear. The hope would be that some sort of agreement could be reached whereby the positive aspects of Hizbullah, including its integrity, social welfare programmes and effective military might, would be integrated into the state apparatus, and thereby somehow diffuse the corruption and inefficiency of the present system.
But we cannot forget that the spectre of confessionalism hangs over this country like a plague, infecting any hope for equal opportunity and social justice and fuelling a narrow-minded, interest-driven politics in which internal enemies are as much, if not more, reviled than foreign threats. It is within this context that Hizbullah will seek to preserve its own interests as an Islamic resistance movement, perhaps to the detriment of the imagined Lebanese nation.
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