Further Detours on the Road to Peace

Racked from within by deep-seated political and religious tensions and troubled from without by neighbors whose feuds overlap borders, Lebanon is something akin to a high-wire act in a hurricane. Last week without warning, it slipped. The result was a bloodbath.

For some still unexplained reason, a busload of Palestinian guerrillas drove into the east Beirut sector of Ain Rumanneh. That neighborhood happens to be a stronghold of a fiercely nationalist, right-wing and predominantly Maronite Christian party, the 75,000-member Phalange, whose private 6,000-member militia is the largest in the country. The Phalangists in the area apparently decided that the bus was a provocation, and their militia opened fire, killing 26 aboard the bus and wounding 19. That touched off a battle that raged for five days, embroiling much of Beirut. Before it was over, an estimated 150 people had been killed, and 300 more wounded.

The fighting underscored the complexity of problems and the fragility of peace in the area. So too last week, in the uneasy hiatus that has followed the collapse of Henry Kissinger's shuttle diplomacy, did a number of other events:

> In Cairo, Egyptian President Anwar Sadat sacked his Premier and shuffled his Cabinet to calm domestic protests that threaten his position.

> In Jerusalem, Israelis rancorously debated the crisis in their special relationship with the U.S. in the aftermath of the Kissinger standoff.

> In Damascus, Syrian President Hafez Assad jailed perhaps 200 members of his own Baath Party amid dissident rumbles--including rumors of coup--against the longest-lasting government (4 1/2 years) Syria has had since gaining independence in 1946.

Beirut's street battles were the week's most spectacular event. Cabled TIME Correspondent Karsten Prager from Beirut: "The fighting brought into the open old fears of sectarian feuding in a country whose delicate political structure is a tapestry of extraordinary complexity, based on an almost even division of Christians and Moslems in a population of 3.1 million. An unwritten national covenant gives Christians a slight political edge, as if to compensate for their fears of being absorbed by the Moslem majority around them." Under this arrangement, the President is always a Maronite Christian, the Premier a Sunni Moslem, the speaker of the unicameral parliament a Shi'a Moslem.

Many Lebanese consider the Palestinians a disruptive element in this balancing act. There are 320,000 of them in the country, 97,000 living in 16 refugee camps. Using the camps as training areas, fedayeen have frequently mounted forays across the border into Israel. The retaliatory raids that invariably follow have so far killed an estimated 130 Lebanese in border settlements and brought Israeli jets sonic-booming over Beirut itself.

The situation contributes to keeping Lebanon in almost constant tension.

Left-wing Lebanese believe that the country should do more to assist the Palestinians, despite its limited resources and mediocre 16,000-man army. Some rightists argue that the presence of armed fedayeen is a threat. The head of the Phalange, crusty Sheik Pierre Gemayel, 70, has characterized the fedayeen as "a state within a state" that has brought Lebanon "chaos."

Drastic Shakeup. Following last week's bus incident, the conflict quickly widened. Rooftop snipers kept Beirutis off the streets and without fresh food (in some cases, without electricity and water as well) for five days. Battles were waged with automatic weapons, rockets and mortars. Shops, factories and filling stations, mostly owned by Phalangists, were blown up. Lebanese troops were withheld to prevent a repetition of the bloody army-fedayeen confrontation of May 1973. The battle abated only after Gemayel, in a dramatic bedside visit to President Suleiman Franjieh, who was recovering from gall-bladder surgery, agreed to turn in two Phalangists ac cused of opening fire on the bus.

In Egypt, Sadat's situation was no where as grave as Fellow Arab President Franjieh's, but the possibilities were enough to prompt a drastic government shakeup. Twice in recent months, Egyptians have rioted to pro test sharply rising prices. The demonstrations were aimed not only at a 20% inflation rate but also at the sort of Social inequity that allows engineers to earn only $73 a month while opulent Cairenes regularly blow a comparable amount on dinner out. When the National Assembly demanded that the government approve wage increases for employees of state-owned companies, Premier Abdel Aziz Hegazi, 52, refused. The country, he said quite accurately, could not afford it.

Caesar and Cleopatra. Hegazi thus became a handy scapegoat (crowds chanted "Better a Nazi than Hegazi"), even though his "open door" policy has brought in long-range investments of $3 billion since he took office last September. He was replaced by Interior Minister Mamduh Salem, 57, a tall, gray-haired bachelor who was head of President Gamal Abdel Nasser's personal security force and won Sadat's gratitude in 1971 by uncovering a coup attempt. Salem is not likely to score dramatic economic successes, although tolls from the Suez Canal may help if it reopens on schedule in June. Even so, Sadat is hoping that the switch in Premiers will give him room to continue maneuvering toward his priority of an acceptable peace.

Egypt's President is pursuing foreign policy on two vastly different fronts. To pressure Israel into returning occupied territory, Sadat has insisted on no more than a three-month extension of the United Nations peace-keeping mandate in the Sinai when the present agreement expires on April 24. Last week the U.N. Security Council, over Israeli protests, acceded to his demand. Meanwhile Sadat and Libya's Muammar Gaddafi have reopened an old feud that erupted in 1973 after Egypt backed away from a union of the two countries. Gaddafi recently called President and Mrs. Sadat Egypt's "20th century Caesar and Cleopatra." Libya threatened to break relations last week after Sadat retaliated that Gaddafi was "100% sick and possessed by the Devil."

In Damascus, meanwhile, President Assad took harsher steps to gain maneuvering time. Assad is feeling pressure from neighboring Iraq, whose Baath (Renaissance) Party has long feuded with Syria's Baathists. As a result of Baghdad's successful peace moves with Iran, the Iraqis are now free to intensify the feud.

With this in mind, Assad had suspected party dissidents rounded up on the eve of last week's Sixth National Baath Party Congress. The tactic worked very well. Assad, already President of the Republic and Commander in Chief of the armed forces, was re-elected to the 21-man National Command of the Baath Party and to its secretary-generalship. That should give him a relatively free hand to pursue his policies--if only he can keep harmony within his own family. His brother, Lieut. Colonel Rifaat Assad, 34, who was elected for the first time to the National Command, directs the crack 30,000-man "Defense Phalanx" guarding Damascus. A nephew commands the army's "Struggle Brigade" within the Phalanx, a brother-in-law the 20,000-man special forces, and a cousin the paratroop "Thunder Brigade."

Observers describe Assad's policies with the vague term "flexibility." Internally, he has relaxed currency controls and travel restrictions and seeks to attract Western investment. Externally, he appears almost deliberately to be intimidating Iraq, perhaps as a means of discouraging Baghdad from any idea of moving against his territory.

For its part, Iraq complains that Syria is hoarding Euphrates River water behind the huge Soviet-built Taqba

Dam, creating shortages for 3 million Iraqis. Exchanges over the situation have grown so heated that Syria has sealed the dam off and alerted troops to possible sabotage by Iraqi commandos.

At the same time, Assad's government apparently intends to improve still further its relations with the U.S. "Assad wants to play the American card," explains a Syrian official. "We need to become friends with the friends of our enemy. This will hurt our enemy." Assad is also cozying up to the enemies of his enemy. He has proposed a joint Syrian-Palestinian command and made himself the foremost champion of the fedayeen, moves that give him a strong bargaining hand in any negotiations about a peace settlement.

Somber Mood. The ploy is certainly not lost on the enemy. Despite a perfect day of cloudless skies, beckoning beaches and flowering fields, Israel marked its 27th Independence Day last week in a distinctly somber mood. Anxious about any change in their relations with the U.S., the Israelis sent Foreign Minister Yigal Allon on an American fund-raising tour, which, not incidentally, will enable him to evaluate Washington's "reassessment" of its Middle East policy. Already, the Ford Administration has decided to hold back on sales of the Lance surface-to-surface missile and the F-15 fighter--the world's most advanced combat aircraft --so as to pressure Israel to make peace and to limit Jerusalem's pre-emptive strike possibilities. Premier Yitzhak Rabin's government argues that such pressure will only encourage Arabs like Assad. Thus there was particular interest last week in the first public showing of the Kfir (Lion Cub), a home-built fighter that symbolizes Israel's determination to protect itself.

With its modified French Mirage airframe and an American J-79 engine, the delta-winged plane can fly at Mach 2.2 (1,460 m.p.h.). In the opinion of U.S. experts, it can outperform the Soviet MIG-23 at lower altitudes and has more effective weaponry. Best of all, the Kfir costs $3.5 million to $4 million, v. $5 million for a completely equipped F-4 Phantom jet. The Israeli air force reportedly has ordered more than 200.

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