Lebanon, My Kind of Swiss Cheese!

I spent the last ten days in Beirut. When the airplane landed at Rafiq Al Hariri Airport, I was struck by the emptiness of an airport that has always been bustling with local travelers and foreign visitors. I took a cab to a hotel overlooking the famous Corniche of Beirut where a handful of buildings still bear the scars of Lebanon’s civil war. The hotel was similarly deserted. It was an eerie sight that reflected the sad and terrible realities of Lebanon today.

It goes without saying that I felt uncomfortable roaming through Alhamra's streets the following day. I had a nagging trepidation that a gun battle would erupt at any moment, or worse, a carload of dynamite would blow up near one of the many checkpoints I had to go through while moving about.

My anxiety was not unjustified: Lebanon is a country with no government to speak of-- the office of the President has been vacant for months and both the government and the parliament are, to say it politely, utterly dysfunctional.

Both the cause and the effect of all that is a severe factional polarization not witnessed since the civil war. The country is divided and the protagonists, each armed with pointed arguments and weapons of all kinds, are fighting a proxy war, albeit rhetorical, on behalf of other more formidable foes.

The current situation in Lebanon is obviously an extension of the July '06 war between Hezbollah and Israel. It is also, on a broader level, a side effect of the ongoing enmity between the US and Israel on one hand, and Iran and Syria on the other. Add to this volatile mix a handful of other closely or remotely implicated parties, such as France, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Hamas.

The presence of two US warships on the shores of Lebanon only aggravated my feeling of nervousness. Many Gulf countries restricted their citizens' travel to Lebanon, and in some cases put a moratorium on issuing visas to Lebanese nationals. US Embassy's warden messages advised extreme vigilance and directed expats living there or Americans visiting Lebanon to avoid public places. But it was those same public places that I wanted to go to, which I did. And it was only there that my fear began to slowly subside.

What I learned from watching people and talking to them was a surprise to me. People, from all sides and all walks of life, did not want to dwell on politics, but they talked freely about the hardships of their day-to-day life-- severe inflation, joblessness, dwindling business activity. Most people I met shrugged off the idea of a looming civil war. They all seem to have figured that the real issue is much bigger than just a factional fight for prime positions in a crippled government.

What I admired most was the orderly way with which the Lebanese people continue to conduct their daily living business. One of the many sayings that go around town, poking fun at the Lebanese officials, goes like this: "If you see a traffic jam at any of the intersections of Beirut, you can be certain that a police officer is there directing traffic."

This funny anecdote is indicative of how much the Lebanese people have matured since the civil war and how jaded they have become in the face of the constant political maneuvering that goes on in their country.

With such a torn social, political, and religious fabric, Lebanon looks more like a slice of Swiss cheese than anything else. Yet, Lebanon has proven to the world that people can live and prosper without a government at the helm. The Lebanese people, hardened by years and years of devastating wars, seem to be more eager to live in peace. The Lebanese people are a model of resourcefulness in the Middle East. They don't want a government. They can live without one. All they want is to be left alone-- just my kind of Swiss cheese!