Armies galore
Ronald Payne
Beirut Apair of Israeli Phantom jets on routine patrol over Beirut, capital of the Arab state of Lebanon, sketch out the sign of a cross with their vapour trails high in the blue sky. This rather cheeky gesture, from a theological point of view, is no doubt intended to cheer the Christian militia bands in their sector of the divided city.
Sometimes they zoom low in mock attacks, acting as fast targets for dozens of Syrian anti-aircraft guns and freelance machine gunners. All this makes a lot of noise but no harm is done, and the imperturbable Lebanese hardly give it a thought as they go about their business. It is entirely customary in this bustling place to hear the crackle of small arms fire, even the boom of artillery. Every car in the jammed streets has a pistol in the glove compartment and a Kalashnikov automatic rifle in the boot, and any driving argument is likely to end in a gun fight.
By night, after the evening prayer, what is described in the local French-language newspapers as 'well nourished small arms fire' usually breaks out along the dividing line between Christians and Moslems. One side or another crashes a few rocket projectiles from RPG 7 launchers into such tempting targets as the Sodeco bank building, or the quarter of the Jesuits, and perhaps somebody puts in a few shells. When that sort of thing happens after six years of intermittent civil war, the Lebanese consider it a rather quiet day.
The wealthy still go down to the sea by the ruins of the old St George Hotel for swimming and cocktails. Restaurants still serve excellent mezes to the sound of the guns, and there are plenty of friendly bars for night-time amusement, though it must be said that clients do not walk much by night and move quickly by car through deserted streets. For the city bristles with young men of the various militias wearing a variety of Che Guevara style uniforms, all bearing arms. The smartest ones at the moment are the Syrian-officered Arab Knights, nicknamed (because they favour rose-coloured camouflage outfits) the Pink Panthers.
By now recruitment to one or other of the 16 different militias in Beirut has become something of a cottage industry. A young man with nothing better to do — and there are many — can earn himself a steady £170 a month for lolling about the streets stopping cars, asking for papers and occasionally firing off a melodramatic burst. It is said that the Palestinians pay more, so naturally they have no shortage of applicants. One armed man in jeans, wearing a grenade belt, inspected the visas in my passport and made what sounded like a threatening comment. My driver started laughing and reported, 'What he say is — "God only knows what this means, for I cannot read, even in Arabic".'
There are, it must be admitted, certain advantages in the general breakdown of law and order. Nobody much bothers about taxes. Enterprising citizens rig up wires to lift electricity from source in the power lines to avoid having to pay bills. And, of course, customs and excise have a pretty quiet time. At small booths in the streets they offer extremely cheap cigarettes and first class Scotch in huge bottles for a few pounds. Indeed, Beirut is the one city in the world where the ordinary shopkeeper undercuts the airport duty-free shop, and also the only place where a taxi driver has ever presented me with a bottle of Scotch as a small token of his esteem.
There is in existence a kind of bush telegraph to keep citizens informed about where, and at what times of day, it is reasonably safe to cross the barricades separating Islam from Christendom. Once through no-mans-land things look pretty much the same. On the Christian side are the young men of Beschir Gemayel's Phalangist militia, most of them wearing crosses, and perhaps a little better dressed.
The religious scene is immensely complicated, and by no means all Christians are Maronites, that is to say followers of St Maroun. Indeed David Roberts, the ebullient Arabist British ambassador, is only half mocking when he regrets that his mission does not have upon its staff a theological attache. It is because of the Christian-Moslem division of Lebanon that external forces have managed to create such havoc and turn it into the world's greatest troop trap.
The first outsiders to disrupt this formerly civilised and agreeable country were the Palestine Liberation people, who had been thrown out of Jordan by King Hussein. Their presence provoked the civil war in the mid-Seventies. Theoretically to restore peace, President Assad of Syria sent in his army. At first it incorporated other contingents from the Sudan and Saudi Arabia and was euphemistically named the Arab Deterrent Force. Some 20,000 Syrians with tanks, guns and rockets are still there keeping a sort of peace. The old Lebanese regular army, half Christian, half Moslem, fell to pieces in the civil war and is now being reconstructed as a force 21,000 strong. In addition there are the regular battalions of the Palestine Liberation army. All this in a country the size of Wales.
Just to confuse things, in the dying stages of the civil war proper, the Israelis invaded Lebanon from the south. When they were persuaded to withdraw, they set up another army on their border of friendly Christians commanded by Major Haddad, a renegade Lebanese army officer. That force too is still active.
But sandwiched between Haddad's force, the Palestinians et al, is the United Nations polyglot army commanded by a southern Irish officer, General Callaghan, a man with steely eyes who resembles an American general in some war film. Under him are 6,000 serving men from the Republic of Ireland, from Norway and Nigeria, from the mountains of Nepal and from the Fiji Islands.
As peacemakers they are cursed rather than blessed, though I must say I found it a relief to be among real soldiers at the Fiji Batt HQ, friendly men who, unlike the members of the various militas, understand the use of the safety catch on their weapons. However, as a disillusioned officer put it, 'We are here to keep the peace, but there isn't really any peace to keep.'
It is a point worth considering as the Common Market led by Lord Carrington prepares as its first military venture to set up yet another international force in the Middle East. Already Britain, France, Italy and Holland have agreed to send army contingents as part of an international force to establish itself in the Sinai desert next April. Their task will be to act as a buffer on that southern front when the Israelis evacuate Sinai and the Egyptians begin moving in. And the chances are that as usual the peacemakers may end up being shot at by everyone.
For if there is one lesson to be learned from unhappy Lebanon it is that even when a kind of peace is arranged between proper armies, the warlords and the terrorist groups move in. If that were to happen in the new area, then Sinai and Gaza might well become a replica of Lebanon.
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