Outright Assassination

by Adel Beshara

  After the outbreak of the Second World War, the independence of Lebanon was proclaimed in 1941 and achieved in 1943. These two developments fostered the sentiment of Lebanese patriotism within the ranks of the Syrian National Party and, consequently, its leaders and members set out to serve Lebanon with courage and self-sacrifice alongside the most dedicated of the Lebanonist organizations.50

  Encouraged by parliamentary immunity, Chamoun raised the banner against the regime higher still. Emphasizing an essentially pragmatic approach, he placed the responsibility for Sa’adeh’s rebellion squarely at the government’s feet. The regime’s “policy of duplicity and favoritism,” he argued, “is to blame for Sa’adeh’s misfortune. The SNP leader was a mere victim of this policy.”51 While never directly absolving Sa’adeh of his transgressions, Chamoun’s commentary seemed to offer a subdued repudiation of the charge of high treason on which Sa’adeh was tried. In a style reminiscent of the article which put Tueini behind bars, it concluded with the following admonition: “We must deduce from these tribulations a final and useful lesson, namely, that if the situation in Lebanon remains as it is, the deceased leader of the Syrian National Party will become a victim, or a martyr, or an immortal.”52

  Kamal Jumblatt’s involvement in the Sa’adeh case was longer and more prolific. Like Chamoun, he was halfway between the regime and Sa’adeh, but sympathetic with some of Sa’adeh’s progressive ideas and fond of his strength of character. Jumblatt took a keen personal interest in Sa’adeh’s case from its outset and did not show the restraint that others did. He was rather outspoken about the case, daring, even reckless. Like Emile Zola in the Dreyfus Affair, Jumblatt published his Interpellation53 destined to become one of the most important manifestos on the Sa’adeh case. Jumblatt pulled out all the stops. He accused the regime and prominent members of the government of having conspired to convict an innocent man through false evidence and an illegal trial, suppressing evidence that would have revealed his innocence. Jumblatt similarly charged the regime of having knowingly violated the law in order to convict a foe and of having followed orders from outside to ensure that he did not get anything less than the penalty of death. He made these charges without being able to prove them and on the basis of much guesswork. Still, he created a new excitement, and many have justified his recklessness in terms of that accomplishment.

  Jumblatt knew that many of his charges were reckless and potentially libelous. He knew they could not be proved in a court of law. But it seems clear enough that his goal was to put life back into the case, and in that goal he certainly succeeded, well beyond what he intended. The national attention caused by his Interpellation arose more from the attempt to suppress it than from the impulsive charges it advanced. It started when the government barred the local press from publishing a short interpellation that Jumblatt had made to parliament on Sa’adeh’s trial. During its session of 16 August, Jumblatt asked the Speaker of the House about the fate of his interpellation and why it had not been distributed to members of parliament. When told that it was due to technical problems, he burst out against the government and accused it of harboring a “personal grudge” against Sa’adeh and bowing to “foreign fingers.” The Prime Minister, Riad as-Solh, who was attending the session that day, objected to a parliamentary discussion of the interpellation saying that the case “has been a glorious deed for Lebanon and the people of Lebanon.”54 He furthermore said that it was disgraceful for the Chamber to consider a discussion of Jumblatt’s interpellation when, in fact, “we had come here expecting to be decorated for what we did . . . I implore this esteemed Chamber to reject [the interpellation].”55 The Chamber voted in favor of the motion prompting a disappointed Jumblatt to walk out but not before he said to Solh, “You are a criminal. You should be put on trial.”56

  The next day an-Nahar published the interpellation, exposing the reason why the government had been tenaciously against it. Jumblatt called on the government “to conduct an inquiry into the mysterious circumstances that surrounded the elimination of Antun Sa’adeh, the leader of the [Syrian] National Social Party, after a procedure that was so fast that it resembled an administrative cleansing operation . . .”57 Several days later, Jumblatt submitted a second interpellation outlining the areas in which the government had violated the law in Sa’adeh’s case. He questioned the validity of the emergency law under which Sa’adeh was tried and the accuracy of the judicial process. For the investigation and trial of criminal cases before a military tribunal to be lawful, he said, certain procedures had to be observed:

  The examining magistrate must first investigate the case and then, on the basis of the evidence, refer the matter to the military court of justice.

  The prosecuting attorney must then draw up a bill of indictment against the accused.

  The prosecuting attorney must issue a writ of habeas corpus to the accuser three days at least before the hearing is due to take place. The writ should include, in addition to the date of the trial, a full statement of the legal provisions and clauses and the names of all the witnesses who will be required by law to testify.

  The state must ensure three days prior to the commencement of the trial that the accused has chosen a defending lawyer or appoint one for him if he has not done so.

  The case file must be made available to the defense lawyer at least twenty four hours before the first session of the trial.

  In case of capital punishment, the death sentence must not be carried out until after the Pardon Committee had been consulted and the President of the Republic had given his approval. It must also be preceded by a thorough re-examination of the case records and papers, which could run into the hundreds.58

  That, in Jumblatt’s view, precluded a dispassionate trial for Sa’adeh:

  If we add all the minimum time delays allowed under the law, from when the accused is arrested to the first session of the trial, it would take seven days at least. If we then add to this period the time taken up by the sessions of the military court itself – it is impossible for judges to study and thoroughly investigate a case of such magnitude and gravity in one session – and also the time taken up by interrogation, subpoenaing of witnesses, listening to their testimonies, examining in detail the case files, proceedings, sentencing the accused, sending the case files to the Pardon Committee for a systematic examination of the case and then to the Honourable President for approval, the minimum period would be no less than fifteen days.59

  Jumblatt tendered his interpellation for parliamentary discussion on 30 August, but was again blocked on technicalities. The person responsible for blocking it was Riad as-Solh again, who barred the interpellation on the flimsiest excuse that it was not on the parliamentary minute. “There is no need for the interpellation to be read out and I request it remains unread,”60 he told parliament. Jumblatt was naturally unimpressed and again accused the Prime Minister of dodging the real issue. A war of words broke out between the two men, compelling the Speaker of the House to intercede to stop them. Jumblatt dropped the issue but only after telling Solh to his face, “What you did was criminal in the first degree.”61

  Unable to break through the cordon that as-Solh and his supporters had set up in the Chamber, Jumblatt turned to the local press. An-Nahar seized the moment and published the third of Jumblatt’s interpellations in full. Its 9 September issue carried the front-page heading, “Parliamentarian Kamal Jumblatt clarifies with the pen what he could not clarify with the tongue.” Compiled in secret and imbued with a tone of outrage, the third interpellation gave a detailed explanation of how Sa’adeh was convicted of a crime for purely political and personal motives; showed that the real culprit was the regime and blasted its conduct; revealed the immensity of the cover-up in the case; named countries involved in perpetrating the cover-up; and accused these countries of conspiring to eliminate Sa’adeh and everything he stood for. Jumblatt in writing the interpellation and an-Nahar in publishing it hoped to provide the public with a succinct overview of the
facts of the Sa’adeh case and thereby mobilize public opinion against the regime.

  The next day, the Lebanese press reported that the government would ask the Chamber to have Jumblatt’s parliamentary immunity lifted in preparation for his prosecution. Jumblatt responded with a cynical challenge in an open letter to the Speaker of the Chamber:

  Since I have always taken and still take full responsibility for my words, and for every action of mine in all its requisites, as a self-respecting politician, and as a member of this new generation which channels its efforts to awaken and foster a sense of conscience and responsibility in the souls of individuals and masses, and at the behest of some friends and brothers, I would be honored to ask both you and the government to accept this proposal of mine to have my parliamentary immunity lifted. Should you fail to do so, I’ll take an additional step compelled, of course, by the government’s reluctance to carry out its threat.62

  More than any time before, Jumblatt seemed to be attempting to duplicate Emile Zola’s famous part in the Dreyfus affair. Zola came to prominence in that affair through his J’Accuse! article, which he published in the Paris literary newspaper, L’Aurore (The Dawn)63 in the hope of provoking authorities into criminally prosecuting him for having written the article, so that at his trial new evidence could be produced and made public concerning Dreyfus’s innocence. The J’Accuse! article was an instant sensation, electrifying France and stimulating a gradual but inexorable shift in public opinion in favor of Dreyfus. It also brought the Dreyfus case worldwide attention. From then on, the entire civilized world marveled at the French spectacle, with very few people outside France believing that Dreyfus was guilty.64 Jumblatt probably had something similar in mind. He aspired to become the shining hero in the Sa’adeh case, as Zola did in the Dreyfus affair, but the government was more alert than the French government was during the Dreyfus affair and did not fall for the trick: Jumblatt did not get his wish and the subject was dropped.

  The Government’s Counter-reaction

  Without expressing a single regret at the conduct of the trial, the Khoury government responded to the condemnatory avalanche that appeared in Lebanese newspapers by arresting leading editorialists and using them as a warning to any others who might be tempted to follow their example. Ghassan Tueini, editor and publisher of one of Lebanon’s leading newspapers and son of the former Lebanese Minister to Argentina, was arrested for his article “Sa’adeh the Criminal Martyr,” which criticized the speed and secrecy with which Sa’adeh was tried and executed. Tueini was charged with libeling the military court and his trial took place before the same military tribunal that had sentenced Sa’adeh. The prosecution drew attention to the title of the article and to specific phrases such as “trial or plot” and “Is it murder or execution?” and argued further that these were insinuations that offended the morale and the prestige of the army and the court-martial.65 The accused pleaded not guilty, declaring that he meant no insult to the army, but legitimately criticized the legal procedure in Sa’adeh’s trial:

  The target [of Tueini’s article on Sa’adeh’s execution] was not the military tribunal but the government, which interpreted the charges [against Sa’adeh] in a way that would guarantee an end to the leader of the Social Nationalists in the quickest possible time out of fear that hell might break loose before it could kill him.66

  The tribunal did not agree with the defendant and sentenced him to three months’ imprisonment. On hearing the judgment, Tueini derisively remarked: “I am proud of this verdict, and I harbor no resentment because I am young and the future is for the young not for those who want to startle the free people of this country.”67

  The government then swung the cleaver towards Muhammad Baalbaki, the chief editor of Kul Shay, and his partner Said Sarabiyeh. The pair was arrested for publishing a leading article considered to cast reflections on army morale and stature in connection with Sa’adeh’s execution. Like Tueini, they were charged with vilifying the military tribunal.68 At their trial, the pair was quizzed over the article and two other pieces: a colloquial song deriding Husni az-Zaim and a report entitled “Syria apologizes to the wife of Antun Sa’adeh.”69 Interestingly, as in Tueini’s case, the prosecution tried to make a case for libel on the basis of out-of-context extracts drawing particularly on the expression, “Sa’adeh met his fate in the manner known to all,” much to the bewilderment of the accused, who saw nothing libelous in it:

  Q: Do you consider Antun Sa’adeh a criminal?

  A: Surely the Military Tribunal has already determined that!

  Q: What is your opinion on the verdict handed down by the Military Tribunal?

  A: The judgments of the Military Tribunal have the respect of all and I, as Lebanese, respect the rulings of the judicial system.

  Q: I am proud of the sound national ethos encapsulated in the answer.

  A: Thank you.

  Q: How do you reconcile between it and your remark in the article regarding the way that Sa’adeh died: “Sa’adeh met his fate in the fashion we all know”?

  A: There is nothing about this expression that is quizzical or inquisitive. Rather, it is affirmative.

  Q: But what did you mean exactly by it?

  A: I meant that he died in a manner that everyone is now familiar with and as dictated by the Military Tribunal. The purpose of the expression was merely to save four or five columns on the reader describing Sa’adeh’s trial and execution because the central issue in the article was strictly about how Zaim surrendered Sa’adeh.

  Q: And the condemnatory mark at the end of the sentence? What is its purpose?

  A: This is called exclamatory not condemnatory mark. There is nothing unusual about it and it has to be understood in the context of the whole sentence and not just the last word or two.

  Q: But can we not infer from placing it after you say “in the fashion . . .” that you disapprove with the way that Sa’adeh died or that you are perplexed by it?

  A: Nothing of the sort. It should be observed the term “fashion” had been left unglossed as to exact meaning. Just because somebody chooses silence need not mean that they have adopted a specific idea.

  Q: So there is ambiguity as to what this “fashion” means? It could be something positive or something negative and, therefore, possible for the reader who does not know your intention to infer that it is being used in a negative sense?

  A: There is no ambiguity but silence. In any case, I have already stated to the tribunal my opinion on its judgment.

  Sometimes, in its eagerness to bring defendants to trial in a court of law, the government filed absurd or unrealistic charges and, consequently, laid itself open to charges of injustice and improper use of the courts.

  The attempt of the Lebanese government to prosecute the dissident editors over a sarcastic song entitled “Oh eternal One, every other one has his day!” is a case in point:

  Q: What did you intend to achieve by the song “Oh eternal One, every other one has his day!”? The tribunal can, if it wants, interpret it as meaning that the tribunal is next in line, that the Nationalists will seize the reins of power and prosecute it like it did to Sa’adeh, whose conviction was made with clear conscience, and that had Sa’adeh succeeded he would have spared no one.

  A: This is a popular song all around. It was on everyone’s lips in Damascus, especially during all last week, and its publication was not directed at anyone in particular.

  Overall, the trial highlighted yet again how sensitive the Khoury regime had become to criticism. No one attempted to defend Sa’adeh’s rebellion, but the proceedings occasionally displayed admiration for his good character against government wishes. “Sa’adeh,” said one lawyer, “was deemed by the writer [Baalbaki] as a loyal and honest man. This is true. There is no record that he embezzled or falsified and the revolution he declared was not a notorious crime that bears on honor. If the accused had stated that Sa’adeh was a man of honor it is because he was indeed an honorable man . . .” Baalba
ki was subsequently sentenced to one and a half months in prison and Sarabiyeh was let off. The case revealed starkly the regime’s insecurity and contributed to a swing in sympathy towards the Sa’adeh camp.

  In a country like Lebanon, in which the local press has a far greater grasp over opinion forming than any other institution, such intimidating actions do not always achieve their intended targets. By menacing local editors and publishers, the Khoury regime may have hoped to “take the heat off,” but the exercise seemed to have badly backfired on it. The arrests provoked an unprecedented show of solidarity in the Lebanese press. It became more articulate and more conscious of its strength as a body. Lebanese newspapers rallied behind the an-Nahar editor, openly denouncing the government’s action as a clear violation of freedom of political expression.70 Politicians also announced their dissatisfaction in bold print. Camille Chamoun, former Lebanese Foreign Minister and leader of the opposition in Parliament, entered an interpellation on the arrest which stated:

  In the communiqué of Saturday, July 9, justifying the execution of Antun Sa’adeh, the Government invoked the principle of liberty of opinion and assembly which, it stated, was the basis of its general policy. Nevertheless, this communiqué hardly had appeared in the newspapers when the Government turned over to military justice Ghassan Tueni and his brother Walid Tweni, respectively editor and publisher and managing editor of the newspaper An-Nahar, for an article appearing in this daily. Ghassan Tueni was arrested immediately while his brother is being sought by the police.