What price peace? The Lebanese recently learned. According to statistics
compiled by the crime reporter Of Beirut's An Nahar newspaper,
144,240 people lost their lives in Lebanon's 1975-91 civil war, 184,051 were
wounded, 17,415 are still missing, and 13,455 were maimed. The government
half-heartedly confirmed the numbers which exclude thousands Of Palestinians
killed in the internecine "camps war" and massacred by Christian
militiamen in the Sabra and Chatila camps during Israel's 1982 invasion.
But who was going to quibble about figures when their release
coincided with the country's most severe financial crisis ever? Residents of
Beirut are now complaining aboutthee price of bread, vegetables and
gasoline rather then remembering the dead.
If nobody won the war, everyone is losing the peace. With unemploYment at
30 percent, the Lebanese pound lost more than a third of its value
in two recent weeks. The Lebanese saY they never knew such hardshiP
in the 16 years Of war.
There were months of euphoria last summer, when tens of thousands of emigrants returned home bringing with them precious dollars. There was a frenzy of refurbishment and rebuilding. Television ads portrayed an idyllic "New Lebanon" of peasants crushing grapes, feasting and, dancing. In July, the army took control of the Palestinian refugee camps in Sidon and Tyre. In return, Israel was supposed, to relinquish some of the Lebanese territory it occupies, but it did not. From August to Decermber, the last nine American and British hostages were freed. Lebanon expected foreign aid to pour in, but it did not.
Refugees scavenge through rubbish bins, searching for cardboard and glass to
sell for a pittance. In the Hamra shopping district, an old woman's hand
reached through the car window and made her plea in perfect English:
"My name is Josephine. I have never had to beg before. I have no money. Please
help me." Seven Lebanese banks have closed for business since December.
The Syrian-backed cabinet all but depleted the central bank's reserves by
raising government salaries 120 percent this year. A new scandal - double
payment of retroactive raises for cabinet ministers - hit the papers last
week, to the populace's general indifference.
"What do you expect?" said taxi driver Abdul Rahman. "They are all thieves."
The government reproaches the press for its "irresponsible" coverage of the
crisis, but mostly blames the foreigners: the Americans for banning airline
travel to Lebanon; the French for continuing to support exiled Christian
General Michel Aoun; the Israelis for allegedly plotting to divert the waters
of southern Lebanon; the Germans for blocking European Community aid pending
the liberation of two German hostages.
Marwan Iskandar, one of eight economists recently appointed to an emergency commission, has said that the only way to reverse the crisis is to end corruption in the civil administration. Lebanon is the only country in the world, noted the L'Orient Le Jour newspaper, where you have to bribe a civil servant to pay your taxes.
But, exhausted by the war, bullied by Syria and still distrustful of one
another, the Lebanese are unlikely to rise up in rebellion. Syrian soldiers
man checkpoints at all major intersections, their green camouflage fatigues
blending in with the withered branches propped up to commemorate the March
1963 coup that brought Syrian President Hafez Assad to power.
On walls throughout the city, posters of Sheik Abbas Musawi, the pro-Iranian
Shiite Hezbollah leader assassinated by the Israelis compete with faded
portraits of other "martyred" leaders: Kamal Jumblatt, Imam Musa Sadr, Rene
Muawad, Rashid Karami. Musawi's slaying sent a shiver through Lebanon's tiny
Western community. Would another of hostage-taking begin?
Fearing Hezbollah reprisals for the Israeli attack, the State Department
discreetly forbade U.S. Ambassador Ryan Crocker to return to Beirut. It had
not escaped Hezbollah's notice that the Apache helicopter gunship and Hellfire
missiles that incinerated Musawi, his wife and child were supplied by the
United States.
On everyone's mind is September, when Syrian troops must withdraw to eastern
Lebanon, under the 1989 Taif peace accords. In theory, the Lebanese army will
ensure security in Beirut if the Syrians withdraw as scheduled. But the army
has incorporated into its ranks thousands of former militiamen, whose personal
hatreds have by no means vanished.
Druze leader Walid Jumblatt has predicted renewed fighting when the Syrians
leave. In the meantime, forgotten by all but the Israeli pilots whose air-
craft continue their weekly photo-reconnaissance overflights, Beirut grumbles
and sinks deeper Into its impoverished peace.