In keeping with my “Helena eases herself back into Beirut gradually” approach
to my current existence I’ve been… okay, easing myself back into things
here pretty gradually. That has involved calling a few folks here– but slowly;
reading the Daily Star-IHT combo that’s sold here daily; lying around
reading a bunch of things not about Beirut; buying and trying
to read substantial parts of Al-Hayat every day (we had to buy an entirely
new Hans Wehr dictionary, since we left both of our existing copies of it
at home, by mistake); running every other day as usual; but most of all,
walking, walking, walking round the city trying to relearn it through the
soles of my feet and all my other senses.
Of course the big story here is the status of Lebanese-Syrian relations,
especially in view of the Security Council’s recent resolution (1559) that
called for a speedy Syrian withdrawal from the country, and the allied strong
push by the Syrians to get the parliament here to prolong the term of President
Emile Lahoud for a further three years after it expires in, I believe, late
November.
Poor old Lebanon, eh? Always the football for one or the other (or
both) of its two, much more powerful neighbors’ realpolitik. In
the current circumstances, Syria is still evidently majorly spooked by having
the US army poised along its 450-mile eastern border (the one with Iraq),
while it still has the IDF perched on the slopes of Jebel al-Sheikh (Mount
Hermon), overlooking Damascus itself. So the idea that international
pressure might force it also to open up its satrapy, Lebanon, to the probable
infiltration of solidly pro-western forces… at a time when plenty of people
in the Bush administration are still loudly baying for regime change in Syria…
Well, you can imagine how spooked the Syrian regime folks must be by
all that.
I haven’t been to Syria since late 2002, on the eve of the invasion of Iraq.
It was an interesting and fairly disquieting visit. (Read about it here.)
So anyway, for our afternoon hike today, I dragged Bill around some of my
old haunts in town. Beirut is a city that is perpetually in the midst
of an extreme makeover. Okay, quite a lot less extreme today than in,
say, the summer of 1982, when Sharon’s army was bombing the bejeesus out of
it. You can still see many traces of Israeli-invasion and just plain
civil-war fighting, even on very posh-looking streets. In addition what
you see are the fruits of many years, now, of hectic building and rebuilding efforts– and the combined results of 60-plus years of an extremely laissez-faire approach
to governance in this country that means there are almost no shady, refreshing
public spaces in the whole city– except the Corniche, as I mentioned here Tuesday, which can be refreshing
but is certainly not shady (or quiet)…