by Adel Beshara
In September 1943, elections for a new chamber were held amidst domestic division over Lebanon’s “republican” identity. In the ensuing debate, the Lebanese nationalists portrayed themselves as against any foreign influence, be it French or Arab. While paying lip service to the need for friendly relations with neighboring states, they continued to stress the Phoenician (i.e., non-Arab) origins of the Lebanese. For their part, Lebanon’s Arab nationalists were careful not to push too hard for Arab union on the grounds that it could incite violence and thus provide the French with an excuse to perpetuate their occupation. Two months after the elections, a deal was struck between the contending parties to enable Lebanon to gain full independence. This would take the form of what would come to be called the National Pact (almithaq al-watani), an agreement between two prominent communal leaders, the Christian Beshara el-Khoury and the Sunni Riad el-Solh.
Under the National Pact, Christian leaders accepted that Lebanon was a “country with an Arab face” while Muslim leaders, who had abandoned the idea of union with Syria, agreed to recognize the existing borders of the newly independent state and relative, though diminished, Christian hegemony within them. The traditional division of labour between Lebanon’s various confessional groups was upheld with the presidency being reserved for a Maronite, the prime minister a Sunni Muslim and the speaker of the house a Shia Muslim. The ratio of deputies in parliament was to be six Christians to five Muslims. These arrangements were meant to be provisional and to be discarded once Lebanon moved away from confessionalism. The Pact did not specify how and when this would happen. Matters were made worse by the fact that the agreement was never officially written down and the meeting between the two men was more or less a private affair. What the two sides actually committed to would be the subject of bitter disagreement for years to come. According to el-Khoury, as recounted in his memoirs, the agreement was a push for complete independence. The Maronite community would not appeal to the West for protection while Lebanon’s Arabists would not push for a federation with the East. However, whereas el-Khoury saw independence from France as the end game, el-Solh saw it as a prerequisite step towards a pan-Arab union. For el-Solh, the pact meant that the Arabists would agree to the legitimacy of Grand Liban and would pursue their objectives for Arab union through democratic means. Both sides agreed that independence meant self-determination; it was the manner in which that independence would translate into concrete policy that would become problematic.13
The Independence Era
Following independence on 23 November, 1943, it seemed that the National Pact had established Lebanon on acceptably stable foundations. The Lebanese political system displayed a modicum of unity and was successful in providing a basis for considerable freedom and prosperity. That it could do so depended upon it being asked to do very little. Whereas other parts of the Near East witnessed an expansion of government activity and, in some case, praetorian intervention, during the same period in Lebanon the government remained modest and civil. The Lebanese economy ran with a minimum of government control and with considerable success. Socially, Lebanon seemed to be heading in the right direction following the religious solidarity displayed during its charge for independence. Back then, in a first for Lebanon, the Maronite Archbishop and the Grand Mufti of Lebanon took a united stand against the French. A dispatch to the New York Herald Tribune stated on November 16, in the midst of the crisis: “For the first time in many years Moslems and Christians are united against the French.”14 And further “The most interesting aspect of the present disturbances is that members of all religions and sects are united.”15
With Beshara el-Khoury and Riad el-Solh at the political helm, the Lebanese had strong reasons to celebrate. Beshara el-Khoury was an exceptionally gifted organizer and orator. He had been in the political game almost from the proclamation of Greater Lebanon in 1920, when he was appointed as secretary-general of the Lebanese government, and was widely respected and supported by Lebanon’s economic and cultural circles. Though a self-confessed supporter of Greater Lebanon, el-Khoury displayed remarkable flexibility in politics and understood Lebanon’s unique social blend far better than his nearest rival, Emile Edde. He rose to the highest office in the state by forging closer relations with the Muslim community or, more precisely, with the Sunni elite, and by publicly acknowledging Lebanon’s Arab character and regional reality. Riad el-Solh, on the other hand, was a prominent Syrian Arab nationalist and one-time member of the short-lived Syrian National Congress under King Feisal. An urban notable from a well-established Sunni family, Solh was twice banished from Lebanon, in 1920 and again in 1925, for resisting French rule. His forceful personality, political astuteness, and outspoken views were the main mark of his personality. Solh was widely respected within the Sunni Muslim community in both Lebanon and in Syria, but it was his involvement in the Lebanese national quest in 1943 that finally turned him into a national zaim, at least in the eyes of his followers.
Upon assuming the country’s leadership, both Khoury and Solh sought to portray themselves as state-builders. The tone of Solh’s first cabinet statement, on 7 October 1943, speaks volumes:
The Government which I have the honour of heading and which emanates from this Assembly, regards itself as the expression of the people’s will. It is answerable before the Lebanese people alone, and its policy will be inspired by the country’s higher interests. Emanating from the Lebanese people alone, we are for the people first and foremost. It is for the purpose of making this independence and national sovereignty a real and concrete fact that we have assumed the responsibility of power.16
In practical policy terms, the Solh statement contained a number of proposals and ideas aimed at strengthening the “country’s laws and public functions:”17
Revision of the national Constitution “in such a way as to make it harmonious with our conception of true independence.”
Re-organization of the national administration to strengthen the constitutional regime.
Reform of the Electoral Law.
Conducting a new population census.
Greater regional and Arab cooperation in foreign policy.
However, the statement is best remembered for its reference to the sectarian problem in Lebanon:
One of the essential bases of reform is the suppression of sectarian considerations which are an obstacle to national progress. These have injured Lebanon’s reputation and weakened relations among the various elements of the Lebanese population. Furthermore, we realize that the sectarian principle has been exploited to the personal advantage of certain individuals, to the detriment of the nation’s interests. We are convinced that once the people are imbued with the national feeling under a regime of independence and popular administration, they will gladly agree to the abolition of the sectarian principle, which is an element of national weakness.
The day which will witness the end of the sectarian regime will be a blessed day of awakening. We shall strive to make that day as near as possible. It is only natural, however, that the realization of this objective should call for a few preparatory measures in every field. These measures will require the close cooperation of everyone, so that the realization of this important national reform may receive the full approval of all the citizens without exception.
What has been said of the sectarian principle applies also to the regional principle which, if carried out, would divide the country into several countries.18
This movement, however, never occurred; instead of its purported state-building purpose, the independence regime cemented the sectarian divide in the country and helped to aggravate rather than disentangle issues of conflict regarding the character of Lebanese polity. It also reinforced the sectarian system of government begun under the French Mandate by formalizing the confessional distribution of high-level posts in the government based on the 1932 census’ six-to-five ratio favoring Christians over Muslims. Viewed from this perspective,
The National Pact . . . con
secrated the traditional ‘Lebanese way’, and thus incorporated the defects of the old order into the new. This blocked the emergence of an efficient and functional administration; worse, it inhibited the various components of the population in their incipient identification with the new state. In the short term, a fairly stable equilibrium was thus ensured, but this was only made possible by sacrificing the prospects of stability in the long run.19
Once the regime turned confessional all the precepts of strong and responsible government went amiss. The state became an arena for competing interests and parochial benefits overtook the national welfare.
Many earlier proposals for securing Christian-Muslim co-operation, based as they had been on the Sarrail model of individual equality in a secular state, were reduced by the regime to a singular approach which endeavored to secure co-operation on a strictly confessional basis. The outcome was unsalutory: sectarianism became even more entrenched; the principle of balancing, which created multiple power centers, frequently inhibited the political process; basic philosophical differences between the sects widened; and bickering among elites, not only between Christians and Muslims but also among sects within each religious group, spread like wildfire.
Also during this period, the political system of zuama clientelism was institutionalized and expanded. This impaired the efficiency of the central bureaucracy and fostered widespread communal disenchantment owing to the system’s basic discriminatory nature. Like sectarianism, zuamaism hindered the emergence of a sense of national as opposed to parochial loyalty and turned the state into an arena for petty squabbles and power contests. As a result, corruption and nepotism reached an intolerable level and a steady gap in access to resources opened up, polarizing Lebanese society even further:
Although Khoury had professed himself defender of the constitution during the French Mandate, after independence he revised it to secure another term in office. He portrayed himself as the president of all the Lebanese, but under his reign his family, relatives, and friends, and the Maronite community as a whole, strengthened their hold over the administration, the judicial system, the army, and the intelligence services. He perfected what may be defined as a method of “control and share” – integrating the feudal bourgeois elites of the Sunnis, Shi’is, and other communities into the political and economic systems in return for their support of the status quo. This may have provided Lebanon with a more stable political system, as those who benefited from it had a vested interest in maintaining it, but it led to widespread corruption.20
Both Khoury and Solh were culpable. The pair swept to power in 1943 with a great deal of public credit and a broad base of popular support but turned out to be anything but state leaders. The people gave them a clear mandate to lead Lebanon into a new age: instead, they exhibited none of the necessary leadership principles and ideals of good governance. They offered the country a clear political agenda, but carried to fruition only what was deemed to be beneficial to their own political survival: the Constitution remained basically unchanged; nothing was done to cleanse the national administration; no population census was undertaken; and the electoral law was reformed to suit their own political ambitions. Only in foreign policy can their regime claim some credit, but that was only because the regional and international challenges to Lebanon in those years were hardly problematical.
Lebanon under the Khoury-Solh regime returned to its old political habits. Old and new wounds remained unhealed and social grievances became more acute than at any time before. Some of those grievances were directed at the regime itself; others at the political system; and others still at the political status as a whole. The Lebanese split yet again on national identity: those who felt uncomfortable with Lebanon’s “Christian” character rejuvenated their call for pan-Arab unity; others felt that Lebanon was marching to a political tune which was too Arab and too Islamic for their liking:
This tradition [of Christian tolerance] – let it be stated very bluntly – is now in mortal danger. There are two movements at work in the Lebanon today. The first is that traditional spirit which we have just described and which is cherished by the great majority of the Lebanese population. The second movement may be quite accurately described as the invasion of the Lebanon by Pan-Arabism, as represented by the present Lebanese Government headed by the Prime Minister, Riad As-Solh, a Sunni Moslem from a minority group in the Lebanon, who for the last twenty-five years has worked – against the will of almost the entire Lebanese people – to include Lebanon in an Arab-Islamic union. As long as France with its traditional support of Lebanese Christianity held the Mandate over Lebanon and Syria, the pro-Moslem forces had no chance: Their opportunity came during the War, when with the active connivance of Major General Sir Edward Spears, representing Britain in the Levant, the French lost their hold over Lebanon and Syria. A pro-Moslem Government was then propelled into office in the first elections held in the unmandated Lebanon, and almost without the awareness of the great majority of the Lebanon, the country was swung into the orbit of Arab League policy.21
For clarity, it should be said that internal dissatisfaction under the independence regime was not entirely sectarian. On the contrary, the most serious and most articulate challenge to the State and to the regime came from secular groups and secular individuals from various political persuasions. Chief among them was Antun Sa’adeh. He was, and had been from earlier times, the Knight in shinning armor in the secular crusade not only against the State but also against everything it represented.
Antun Sa’adeh: The National Discourse
Born in 1904 into a middle-class family with an intellectual background, Sa’adeh cast himself as a clear-thinking maverick willing to tell his people harsh truths. In the pursuit of this goal he exhibited great independence in thought and action and was principled and committed to one theoretical line all his life. His intolerance of inconsistency, his passion for scientific facts and his belief in deductive reasoning reflected an absolute faith in the omnipotence of reason.22 Yet, he is often remembered mostly for his towering personality and charisma:
To most people who met him, friend and foe alike, the impression which Antun Sa’adeh left was that of a man of unusually strong character and striking personality. He possessed a great deal of will power and was extremely intelligent with a deep insight for politics. Though his formal schooling ended before he completed his high school education, he was widely read and highly cultured. Furthermore, he commanded the respect of many of those who met him and exhibited all the qualities and attributes of leadership.23
In addition to these personal and intellectual qualities, Sa’adeh possessed remarkable leadership and fighting qualities that he was to display over and again. Writing many years later about his special relationship with Sa’adeh, Hisham Sharabi noted, “When he said, ‘The blood that runs through our veins is owned by the nation and it must be produced whenever the nation demands it,’ he meant it, literally.”24
Sa’adeh belonged to a generation which cultivated the imagination more intensely and deliberately than its predecessors. However widely the majority of its members differed in character, aim, and historical environment, they resembled each other in one fundamental attribute: they criticised and condemned the existing condition of society. The problem is they disagreed about the effectiveness of the proposed means of improving that society, about the extent to which compromise with the existing status quo was morally or practically advisable, about the character and value of specific social institutions, and consequently about the policy to be adopted with regards them.25 The problem, also, is that their disagreements were nationalistic in tone but sectarian in essence.26 Sa’adeh, however, came to be wholly out of sympathy with these attitudes. He believed that human history is governed by laws which cannot be altered by the mere intervention of groups actuated by this or that ideal. From this arises the first fundamental difference between Sa’adeh and his contemporaries: national and not sectarian interest should be the ben
chmark of political action. Yet Sa’adeh could not at any time be classified into any of the existing currents: certainly he was in no sense a Lebanese nationalist or a pan-Arab. He believed that the right framework for national activity was Syrian nationalism based upon but by no means identical with earlier nineteenth-century notions of it.27
To prove his point, Sa’adeh studied nationalism.28 He appealed, at least in his own view, to reason and practical intelligence and insisted that all that the people needed, in order to know how to save themselves from the chaos in which they were involved, was to seek to understand their actual condition. Next, Sa’adeh attempted a powerful critique of established situations during which he took direct aim at the zuamas: