Monday, Dec. 04, 1989
Lebanon A Bomb Aimed at Peace
By J.F.O. McAllister
Mangled metal, crushed bodies, bloody survivors screaming for help amid piles of rubble. Last week terrorism showed up again in its favorite city, Beirut. Rene Moawad, President of Lebanon for only 17 days and the embodiment of a fragile new attempt at peace, was decapitated when a remote-controlled bomb, hidden in a shuttered shop, exploded as his motorcade passed by after ceremonies marking the 46th anniversary of Lebanon's independence. The estimated 550 lbs. of explosives tore trees out by their roots, hurled the engine block of Moawad's armored Mercedes 50 yards, shattered windows a mile away and raised a cloud of brown smoke over the city. In all, 24 people, including nine civilians, were killed and 36 wounded. "The whole shop was a bomb," said a Lebanese army intelligence officer.
Because of the country's instability, the presidency had been vacant for more than 13 months before Moawad got the job. Unlike many other legislators, Moawad, 64, a moderate Maronite Catholic who enjoyed Syria's backing and had served in the Lebanese parliament since 1957, never fled the country to escape the civil war. Conciliatory and a persistent negotiator, he was chosen President in early November by 58 aging Deputies meeting in the mess hall of an abandoned air base.
Moawad's election was a crucial step in a peace attempt brokered last month by the Arab League. The goal was to restore stability by giving Lebanon's Muslim majority greater powers in parliament and the Cabinet while reducing those of the Christian President. Under a new constitution, the President shares power with parliament, including the selection of a Cabinet that carefully balances Lebanon's religious sects. The U.N. Security Council, the U.S. and the European Community endorsed Moawad's efforts to form a government of national unity under this revised framework, and he had been making some progress despite trouble finding Lebanese politicians willing to serve in the Cabinet.
Though that progress was slight, the bombers were evidently determined to destroy it. Many Lebanese speculated that General Michel Aoun, the bitterest foe of the Arab League peace plan and the commander of fanatically loyal Christian forces in East Beirut, was behind the killing. Aoun has been outraged that the plan permits 40,000 Syrian troops to remain indefinitely in Lebanon. He had pronounced Moawad's election void and vowed to throw out the Syrians. Aoun is too weak to achieve that goal but was strong enough to cause havoc. Before the assassination, thousands of his mostly youthful supporters crowded into the courtyard of his bombed-out palace, offering Nazi-style salutes and chanting "We sacrifice our souls and blood to you, O General," while riots and a general strike took place in the territory Aoun controls. He threatened revenge against Deputies who helped negotiate the peace plan, and seven had their houses or offices bombed. "I cannot protect them from subversive elements," said Aoun, who, to avoid Moawad's fate, rarely leaves his bunker.
Aoun denied responsibility for the assassination, branding it a "loathsome crime," and he is by no means the only possible suspect. Some Lebanese thought the professionalism of the bombing signaled a foreign intelligence service in action. Iran, Israel and Iraq were leading candidates, since each backs militant Lebanese factions that could suffer if the plan succeeds.
After announcing Moawad's murder on television in a voice breaking with emotion, Prime Minister Selim Hoss, an American-trained economist who has survived several assassination attempts, worked with Hussein Husseini, the speaker of the parliament, to reconvene the legislature and select a President. "Each one of us is Rene Moawad," said Husseini. "We all have the absolute duty to pursue the peace process until the salvation of the country."
At a hastily called session, meeting under heavy guard in the crossroads town of Chtaura, east of Beirut, parliament elected Elias Hraoui, also a ) Maronite Catholic, to succeed Moawad. Hraoui, 59, is a wealthy landowner who has good contacts with Lebanese Muslims. He promptly appointed a Cabinet of national reconciliation with representatives from the country's seven main sects, a major accomplishment. "Of course the Deputies are frightened," said Boutros Harb, a Christian Deputy. "But courage is the son of fear."
Despite the courage of Lebanon's parliamentarians, the fear in Beirut, spawning an exodus of thousands, is that Aoun's soldiers might clash with Syrian troops. A Syrian-supported attack on Aoun's stronghold is likely if, after a face-saving interval, the general does not accept the new government's authority. By week's end he had taken no action hostile to the government beyond denouncing Hraoui's election as illegitimate. Hraoui, on the other hand, swiftly moved to assert his powers by dismissing the three-man interim Cabinet that has been serving under Aoun.
The skill and resolve of Hraoui and his ministers in creating a government even before Moawad was buried is a hopeful sign and shows the depth of Lebanon's yearning for peace. But Aoun will have to put aside his dream of ejecting the Syrians if Lebanon is to avoid disintegrating further into the anarchy sought by Moawad's killers. If Aoun does not, life in the country will soon resemble life in Thomas Hobbes' state of nature: "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short."
With reporting by Lara Marlowe/Beirut