Once More into the Breach

By Thomas A. Sancton

The Marines have landed, again, and Israel launches a massacre probe

Some waded ashore through waist-deep Mediterranean waters, their M-16 automatic rifles held high over their heads. Others arrived in amphibious assault vehicles that splashed up on the beach and rumbled toward the airport. Still others clambered out of hovering Chinooks and Sea Stallions from the aircraft carrier Guam, anchored some two miles offshore. The U.S. Marines were back in Lebanon last week, 1,200 strong, only 19 days after leaving that embattled country following the evacuation of some 11,000 Palestine Liberation Organization guerrillas from West Beirut. The latest mission of the Leathernecks', as well as of French and Italian troops: to help the Lebanese government maintain order in the wake of last month's massacre of as many as 400 Palestinians by Lebanese Christian militia forces allied to Israel.

The other members of the multinational peace-keeping force had already taken up their positions by the time the Marines landed. France's 1,560 men were stationed in the northern part of the capital, including the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps, where the massacre took place. To the south were 1,200 Italians, whose zone included Burj al Barajneh, the largest Palestinian camp in West Beirut. The American zone consisted of the area around Beirut International Airport (see map).

The Marines' landing had been delayed four days by a dispute over the evacuation of Israeli troops from the airport. The Israelis had arranged to keep a small technical unit there, but the Reagan Administration insisted on the removal of all but one Israeli air controller from the airport and all other troops from Beirut. Prime Minister Menachem Begin capitulated to the American demands after receiving what U.S. officials described as an "extremely tough" cable from Washington.

Administration officials had little time to rejoice over that small victory before they received more bad news from Beirut. A 155-mm "cluster" shell, of the type supplied by the U.S. to Israel, exploded on the airport tarmac, killing one Marine and wounding three others. The shell was apparently left over from the heavy fighting last summer between Israeli troops and guerrillas of the P.L.O. The dead man, Corporal David L. Reagan, 21, of Chesapeake, Va., was a combat engineer assigned to clear the airport of land mines and other explosives.

That accident came at a time of both hope and worry as Lebanon groped for a semblance of normality in the aftermath of its repeated disasters. Only hours before the fatal explosion, Lebanese President Amin Gemayel had officially reopened the airport to commercial flights and proclaimed an end to the so-called Green Line that since the 1975-76 civil war had divided the capital into a pre dominantly Muslim West and a Christian East. At a festive Beirut ceremony, complete with Lebanese military bands playing Yankee Doodle, Gemayel called the relinking of the city "a symbol of national unity and unity of the hearts."

Also seeking to foster unity, U.S. Special Envoy Philip Habib arrived in the capital late last week for talks with the new Lebanese President. Habib was returning from meetings in Israel, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and Egypt, where he had sought support for the withdrawal of all foreign forces from Lebanon and for Reagan's Middle East peace proposals. In Jerusalem, meanwhile, a massive outpouring of public criticism forced Prime Minister Begin to agree to a full-scale judicial investigation of Israel's role in the refugee-camp massacre, a process that might ultimately lead to the fall of his government.

The Marine casualties heightened the confusion over the precise role and duration of the U.S. peace-keeping mission. At his Washington press conference last week, the President astounded aides by intimating that the Marines would not leave Beirut until all Israeli and Syrian forces had withdrawn from Lebanon. Officials at the State Department and White House subsequently issued elaborate clarifications of what Reagan really meant. State Department Spokesman Alan Romberg insisted that the withdrawal of foreign troops was a goal but not "a criterion" for a U.S. departure. Testifying on Capitol Hill, Assistant Secretary of State Nicholas Veliotes set the end of this year as "the outer limit," while a Pentagon spokesman said the troops would be there "as long as necessary." Some members of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee said the casualties showed that the Marines were in a hostile situation and that Reagan was thus required under the War Powers Act to seek congressional approval for any deployment exceeding 60 days.

Seeking to resolve these apparent contradictions, the White House claimed that the President spoke from a "realistic expectation" that the Israelis and Syrians would soon leave Lebanon. Indeed, both sides have professed their willingness to do so. Other U.S. officials skeptically noted the extent to which the Israeli army had dug itself into southern Lebanon, building warehouses and winter quarters. Observed one White House aide: "This is not a little bivouac." The Syrians, who have some 30,000 troops in the Bekaa Valley, will not leave until the Israelis do. The long-range U.S. goal in Lebanon is to create enough stability on the northern border of Israel to reduce its security fears and lead to some solution of the Palestinian issue. To that end, the White House announced late last week that Gemayel had accepted Reagan's invitation to come to Washington on Oct. 19 for an "official working visit." Said Veliotes: "We're trying to make something better happen out of a whole series of horrors."

One such horror was the Sept. 14 assassination of President-elect Bashir Gemayel, Amin's younger brother. That atrocity had threatened to engulf Lebanon in sectarian turmoil and gave Israeli Defense Minister Ariel Sharon an excuse to send his troops into West Beirut. Late last week Gemayel's Phalangist Party announced the arrest of a man suspected of planting the deadly bomb in its East Beirut party headquarters. He was described only as someone in contact with "foreign quarters." There were no such leads, however, in the death last week of PL.O. Chief of Staff Saad Sayel, better known as Abu Walid. He was killed by some 30 gunmen while inspecting guerrilla units in the Syrian-controlled Bekaa Valley.

By far the worst in Lebanon's string of horrors, the massacre at the two Palestinian refugee camps last month, is still not fully explained. The atrocities have generally been blamed on the Israeli-backed Christian Lebanese Forces, the Phalangist-dominated coalition of Christian militias. The Phalangists adamantly reject that charge. As an angry party spokesman told TIME last week: "The Lebanese Forces command vehemently denies any participation in these acts or of ordering any of its units or its individuals to participate. It is deeply regretted that guilt has been assigned to organizations and individuals before official investigations have been completed." That disclaimer contradicted reports by Western journalists and informed Lebanese sources that Christian Lebanese militiamen took part in planning the raid.

While Lebanese authorities have been slow to investigate the incident, the Israeli Cabinet last week voted to launch a high-level judicial inquiry into Israel's role in the massacre. The move was an about-face by Begin, who had initially refused to consider such a probe. Instead, he had sought to limit the political damage by appointing Supreme Court Chief Justice Yitzhak Kahan, 69, as a special investigator but one without explicit authority to compel witnesses to testify or to demand documents. Begin's chosen investigator did not go along with the plan. Since two petitions demanding a full-scale judicial commission of inquiry had been filed with the Supreme Court, Kahan informed the government that he could not consider its appointment until he had dealt with those cases, which could have taken months.

Meanwhile, outraged public calls for a full-scale inquiry continued to mount. Some 400,000 protesters, roughly one-tenth of the country's population, jammed into Tel Aviv's Kings of Israel Square the day before the Yom Kippur holiday. Demands for the resignation of Begin and Sharon flooded in from newspaper editorialists, workers, housewives and even senior army officers.

Some of the heaviest pressure on Begin was coming from within his Cabinet. Interior Minister Yosef Burg, Welfare and Labor Minister Aharon Uzan and Minister Without Portfolio Mordechai Ben-Porat publicly announced that they would demand a full commission of inquiry at a formal meeting of the Cabinet. The implication was clear: the government would fall if those ministers withdrew their support. Even Begin seemed to realize that defiance was hopeless. On the eve of the crucial Cabinet meeting, his aides passed the word that he was receptive to the idea of a judicial probe.

When the Cabinet session opened last Tuesday morning, Begin startled his assembled colleagues with the disclosure that he had first heard about the massacre while listening to the BBC on the afternoon of Sept. 18, nearly two days after some members of the Israeli army reportedly knew what was taking place inside the refugee camps. "From the first day that I had learned of the massacre, I intended to hold an inquiry," Begin insisted. His proposal for a full judicial commission of inquiry with subpoena powers was then unanimously approved.

Gamely seeking to explain Begin's reversal, an aide said: "If the Prime Minister had agreed to an inquiry right away, it would have been undertaken at a time when the whole world was going crazy and everyone believed Israel was guilty. Begin wanted things to calm down. He also didn't want to appear to be giving in to public pressure."

In the end, of course, that is precisely what Begin did. Yet the process that had forced his hand also gave proof that the principles of democracy and justice on which Israel was founded had not been buried in the rubble of Sabra and Shatila. As former Israeli Ambassador to the United Nations Gideon Rafael put it: "The people of Israel are not only a stiff-necked but a fundamentally decent people. They will not tolerate a government that has morally, politically and economically bankrupted the country."

Although Israeli democracy will surely survive its shattering ordeal intact, the Begin government may prove less enduring. Both the Prime Minister and Sharon have said that they were prepared to take personal responsibility for Israel's role in the Beirut massacre, implying that they will step down if the inquiry reveals any Israeli complicity. But neither appeared ready to give up easily. At an acrimonious, closed-door session of the Knesset Defense and Foreign Affairs Committee on Wednesday, Begin bristled at an opposition demand that he resign. Shouted the embattled Prune Minister: "Who should resign? I, with 50% of public opinion thinking I am the best man for the job, or [Opposition Labor Party Leader Shimon] Peres, who has the trust of a full 5%?"

For the time being, Begin appeared to have won some breathing space with his decision to allow a full judicial inquiry. The three-member panel* will have the authority to summon whatever witnesses and documents it wants. Although the commission may make recommendations based on its findings, which are expected to be published within two to four months, it cannot force the Cabinet to carry them out. If the panel calls for the dismissal of any Cabinet members, it may be ignored. Said one Begin aide: "I'm not sure the commission can give a recommendation that a politician who is elected by the people should resign. No appointed commission can change the will of the electorate. It's undemocratic." The aide did admit, however, that the inquiry's findings could create overwhelming public pressures on Begin or other ministers to resign. "For us, it's a first step," said Janet Aviad, spokeswoman for Peace Now, a dovish popular movement that has been demanding a full investigation. "Our motto now is not to let up, not to allow any whitewashing."

Begin has so far rejected suggestions that he suspend the controversial Sharon while the commission does its work. For his part, the Defense Minister has steadfastly refused to step down. Sharon said last week that he accepted the principle of ministerial responsibility, but blamed the world for exploiting the Beirut killings "to massacre Israel's moral image." He appealed to Israelis to put an end to this dispute over who was to blame. "Have we as a nation decided to commit suicide?" he asked. "Can we not stop this hatred among brothers?" for Sharon the question had great personal relevance if that "hatred" persisted,he might well lose his job. --By Thomas A. Sancton.

reported by Robert Slater/Jerusalem and William Stewart/Beirut

*Kahan last week named Supreme Court Justice Aharon Barak, 45, and Reserve General Yona Efrat, 56, to serve with him on the commission.

With reporting by Robert Slater/Jerusalem and William Stewart/Beirut

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