by Adel Beshara
It was an adventure that ended with his death, to the safety of Lebanon and many heads of its citizens! To Sa’adeh’s soul, we send our salutation of respect and admiration. To his adventurous and revolutionary soul, we send our deep sorrow and God’s blessings and a cry of warning!3
Another account worth quoting from is Kamel Mruwa’s “A New Precedent: An Ideology Stated in Blood,” published in al-Hayat on 9 July, 1949. Its closing section reads,
Thus the government decided that, to the very end, its conflict with the National Party should remain a private matter. It kept the public at bay from it until the very last moment. It leveled charges, arrested, prosecuted and killed without issuing, up to now, one statement to simplify abstract facts. The hopes were high that the impending trials would clarify all the points of contention and provide concrete material evidence to enlighten the people. However, the initial trial, that is the trial of Mr. Antun Sa’adeh, was carried out with ‘reflexive’ speed and its reality was not disclosed to the public until a few hours after the execution. We, therefore, do not understand if what happened was a trial of a defendant, or of an individual, or of a party, or of a doctrine.
After that, how do you expect the people to judge what happened? There are two premises for judgments in such cases: factual and emotional. As for the factual, we know very little about what happened because the government, to this point, has not disclosed the facts. Therefore, we are left with the emotional. But when emotions explode, the Lebanese usually split into two parts, and the cancerous symptoms from which we suffer, as citizens and as a state, quickly resurface.
All in all, Mr. Sa’adeh’s case is a new precedence in our political life. And now that the door has opened far and wide, I feel that it may not be the last. It may even become one day a vehicle for other violations. It is now up to the new generation to judge it because time was too short for the present generation to pass its judgment.
Antun Sa’adeh has died for the sake of a political ideology with which his personality was born and into which it completely dissolved to the last breath of life. This is the basic truth behind his execution regardless of what has already been said about its causes and about his ideology. He was without a doubt the first Lebanese to be executed for political reasons since the Great War. It has happened in a country which has not for a generation known what it means to shed blood for the sake of one’s beliefs, a country in which sectarianism, politics and social rank have clearly submerged the national virtues and precluded them from firmly resting in the hearts of its citizens.
It was with his own blood that Antun Sa’adeh had wanted to state his beliefs. For its part, the government likewise wished to state its judgment on Sa’adeh and his ideology in blood. In the perspective of long term history, nature, and the struggle for survival between ideologies we are individuals who amount to very little indeed and will fade with the passage of the years, as fate decrees whatever our desires be.4
The press campaign was not entirely successful; as a result, in the early 1950s, the SSNP sponsored publication of various periodicals dedicated entirely to Sa’adeh’s discourses. Published in Syria, the periodicals ran many reports, articles, leaders, features and obituaries discussing Sa’adeh’s life, the circumstances of his death, and his political agenda for the country. The facts associated with the circumstances of death, the poignant aspects of each event, and individuals’ names were often recalled in surprising detail, and sometimes reported and reacted to with visible emotion. A four-part work entitled “Sa’adeh is alive in our midst” by the Palestinian scholar Hisham Sharabi5 may be taken as an illustration of the vision developing around Sa’adeh:
Throughout the Syrian homeland there are thousands of youth who believe in the discourse of Social Nationalism and sanctify its founder, leader, and martyr in a way that borders on deification. That is not surprising because from the day that Sa’adeh founded the Syrian Social National Party on 16 November 1932, a tremor struck this nation penetrating its spiritual-intellectual-social being to the core.6
Poetic statements were equally informative. These sought to portray in compelling language the emotional reaction to Sa’adeh and his death. “The Land Said” was the title of an epic poem by the renowned Syrian poet Adonis, with Sa’adeh again the heroic character. Its last stanza reads,
Syria, Syria rejoice!
For it is you that has given the ages
Pride and all that sustain this.
You bestowed on history a glorious epic,
Conferring a splendid panoply of gifts.
– Time awake to inquire of this land
And with pounding arteries
Enrich us with unending duration.
Have you known the virgin dough
– The creation and the day that created
Our being, still smouldering from fire?
That is March . . . The first of March
And this is your Great Son – Sa’adeh7
Numerous eulogies also appeared during this period, evoking a variety of meanings and responses. They centered around two main themes: the character of the Lebanese regime and the character of Sa’adeh. Some eulogies were replete in their praise of Sa’adeh; some regretted his death at such an early age. Most eulogies portrayed Sa’adeh sympathetically and reflected the broadest range of opinion. They provide no infallible key to the people’s attitude toward Sa’adeh, but they do give preliminary insight into both the general conception of Sa’adeh during the days and weeks following his death and the way ideological and political ideals informed that conception.
By far the most interesting and most moving piece of literature to appear about Sa’adeh was “The Priest who Confessed Him” by the prominent Lebanese literati and playwright Said Takyideen.8 A dead simple but beautifully composed masterpiece, “The Priest who Confessed Him” recreates Sa’adeh’s final hours on earth from the point of view of the clergyman who witnessed his departing moments. Takyideen introduced the narrative in an exquisite but soft tone, as if there was an aura surrounding the characters and settings:
I was a bit upset that this man of religion did not at first assume a solemn demeanor but rather talked in a detached manner. Yet as he narrated the events that he observed [on that night], his voice, his tone, and his humility became tinted with emotions and real grief. He became like a master musician playing a moving piece on a piano, his fingertips lightly cherishing the ivory keys, until his discourse soared to an elevated music not of this world. We felt that the walls of the room had opened up and that it was lighting up those within it. We became there with Sa’adeh in his prison, in the church, in the cemetery addressing the world, among his people in the diaspora, in palaces, in court, in diplomatic missions, in the hearts of all who knew him and grieved for him, in the pride of struggles standing in the presence of the arrogant or in the face of executioners, in the calmness of the faithful, in the cave of treachery as bayonets that pursue criminals, flags that urge armies on, as the tempest that crushes and the cry that makes history pause in its forward march. The priest brought out a paper from the folds of his voluminous black cassock taken out of an exercise book, and was about to read it when I said: “Talk to me instead, don’t read your papers even if they are memoirs.”
Another important tribute came from South America, where Sa’adeh once lived, from the outstanding diasporian writer Gibran Massouh:9
Antun Sa’adah has fallen in the field of honor while carrying the fate of his nation in his hand. By his example he taught it how to face death after he taught it how to approach life.
His murderers pierced the noblest chest with the most ignoble of bullets which though will bear their names for eternity just as his breast will carry his name for eternity.
It was Antun Sa’adeh who lifted from the life of his nation the slavery of two thousand years and then proceeded to reconnect it anew with its glorious history.
It was a people who used to hang on what others would decide in its destiny but
thanks to Sa’adeh it became a people that took part alongside all the reminder of dignified nations in deciding the destiny of the world.
Antun Sa’adah awakened the gifts and capabilities long latent in the nation but paralyzed in a slumber very like death.
He restored to it its self-confidence. I am saying that he restored its self-confidence but it is rather the case that he lifted it up from the grave.
Antun Sa’adah was ahead of his age one hundred years at least. Had he been spared to live he would have directed the march of this nation in its entirety over that vast area.
Antun Sa’adah developed a national cause that stemmed from the depth of the people not some relationship with outside actors.
He brought together under its banner the Moslem and the Christian so that they would be ready in its cause in a joint choice. This is a miracle that no one before him had been able to achieve.
The wombs of the women of the East will have to take rest for one thousand years for them ever to be able thereafter to bear anyone like Antun Sa’adeh.
But the man has not died. Rather, today his real life begins.
Sa’adeh has engraved his image in the soul of every individual in his nation. If this image is still unclear that is because it is still in its formative phase. But one day it will be completely clear and sharp.
Sa’adeh knew all the sickness of our society and gave each its proper name with no fear or hesitation. In that he is among the greatest of the reformers who have appeared on earth in all eras.
As for the remedies that Sa’adeh devised for these illnesses and of what those medicines will be made up, this is a matter that is still being addressed by the great thinkers of the world and, indeed, is a war in which a sword and a pen cooperate for the first time in the life of the human race.
To this date, there has not yet taken place the decisive battle that will determine who will emerge victorious. But the source of our pride in this global victory is that Sa’adeh was one of its greatest leaders until he fell on the battlefield as the greatest of its martyrs.
The published material of this period attests to an unconscious effort to preserve Sa’adeh in living memory. An idealized image of a hero gradually formed, which further enlarged the cultural power of Sa’adeh’s martyrdom and brought it closer to the life of the people. It also added to its prominence as a symbol of society’s consensus and divisions. As a result, most people gained new insights and they came to appreciate achievements and character traits in Sa’adeh they had not appreciated before and to forget faults they had previously criticized. Also, many critics discovered admirable qualities in the same Sa’adeh they had once maligned, and they were sincere when they publicly conceded the discovery. However, none of the things said about Sa’adeh in oratory or print revealed any virtues that were not known by his supporters before he died. Nor did friendly commentaries ignore faults for which his opponents previously held him to account. Criticisms were certainly stated more gently and with more qualification after his death than before it, but they were stated nonetheless.
Execution also put Sa’adeh in a glorifying light. A cult was built around his person and a new national day was born: that which commemorated his death by execution on 8 July. Mohamad Maatouk described this development as follows:
Sa’ada’s death happened to be in Tammuz (July), which is the name of Adonis in Syrian mythology. This coincidence was shrouded in mystery in the Party’s literature and led to the revival of the myth of Adonis, only now with modern connotations. The eighth of July of each year is celebrated by the Party in Syria and all over the world, with a new vote of confidence in Sa’ada. The ceremonies that commemorate the occasion bear a great resemblance to religious rituals, with the very important exception that Sa’ada, though described in official literature as ‘immortal’, is never referred to as being divine. Leading figures in the Party themselves, however, took part in a bizarre ritual that took place in 1949 only days after Sa’ada’s execution where part of a little finger of his and a lock of hair cut from his corpse were wrapped in a handkerchief and touched collectively in a pledge of loyalty to his doctrines.10
For others, the myth evoked another meaning through the association of death with life:
Another date which is celebrated and is performed as yet another vote of confidence in Sa’adeh’s leadership is the first of March, his birthday. As the date falls close to the beginning of spring, Sa’adeh’s birthday is associated with the return of life, as his death is considered a day of martyrdom. So, as is the case with Tammuz of the old myth, Sa’adeh dies in July and is brought back to life in March and is thus Khalid (immortal).11
Perhaps the most politicized and systematic exposition of the Sa’adeh myth12 was made by the highly celebrated Tammuzi movement, a group of free-thinking poets who drew their initial inspiration from Sa’adeh’s masterwork Al-Sira’ al-Fikri fi al-Adab al-Suri (Intellectual Struggle in Syrian Literature).13 Known also as “the Shi’r Group” and consisting of distinguished modern poets of widely varying talents,14 the movement attempted to relate the ancient gods to the modern Arab World through al-shi’r hurr, or what they called al-shi’r al-hadith. They rejected all the conventions of Arabic poetry and all the accepted values of form and use of language. They contended “it was possible to remain an Arab poet without using the conventional form, style and themes of classical literature.”15 In other words, they were against the unchanged values and predetermined rules of the Arabic literary heritage and in favour of moulding the language, its grammar and style, to the new demands of the modern era. Moreover, in their poetry they concentrated on the idea of the change of the seasons, giving hope to the winter of Arab discontent after the Palestinian disaster of 1948 and to the possibility of rebirth. This idea meant that winter will give birth to spring, and death will ultimately produce life and resurrection. The adoption of myths in poetry served, according to Salma Khadra Jayyusi, as “interpretation of present Arab history in positive and concrete terms.”16 Moreover, as poets of the Arabic language, the Tammuzis not only proclaimed a relation to a deep tradition (an ancient order newly rediscovered) but spelled out a further struggle (a second liberation from within the culture and the language) to create “a poetry that establishes another concept of identity – one that is pluralist, open, agnostic, and secular.”17
Although Tammuzis were not men of action, through their poetry and writings they fostered an idealized conception of Sa’adeh. The mythological aura they created around him translated into specific modes of veneration for the slain leader and transformed his execution into a silently straightforward symbol of national sacrifice. The result was a verification of Sa’adeh’s credentials as a loyal nationalist and an appreciation of, but by no means total agreement with, his work as a strong nationalist. Tammuzis also conferred an apolitical dimension on Sa’adeh’s execution by creating a passionate interest in and a lively historical debate around his thought.18 The cultural emphasis that was subsequently placed on Sa’adeh’s execution further enhanced Sa’adeh’s image as a mystical figure standing at the apex of martyrdom. The elevation of his mind too is evident; his heroic action is so apparent that one thinks of nothing else. “Sa’adeh’s literary views,” wrote Muhammad al-Abed Hammoud, “rendered him, in my opinion, the most important among the founders of the Modernization Movement, which has reached its dead end by deviating from its right way and its deep [true] identity as designed and affirmed by Sa’adeh.”19 Tammuzis kept Sa’adeh’s posthumous reputation alive and fostered a sentimental fondness for Sa’adeh across Lebanon’s intellectual community. Artists, novelists and writers became involved subtly, if not directly. Some paid a high tribute in their dedication and preface, as well as in the title of the book, and in the selection and arrangement of the material included they were to a large extent guided by his judgment. George Masru’ah, the celebrated Lebanese novelist, is very much a case in point. The dedication of the second edition of his novel Ibn Zikar speaks volumes:
“To the one who said, ‘This is one of the best works that the SSNP has produced during my long compulsory absence,’ to my teacher and leader, Antun Sa’adeh.”20
The De-emphasization of Sa’adeh after 1955
The literary frenzy that followed his execution elevated Sa’adeh to a new and higher plane, but it was not extensive enough to make dramatic a shift in public opinion. One reason for that was the regime’s ability to maintain tight control over factual information, which precluded the possibility of public discussion beyond literary circles. As a consequence, the Sa’adeh saga failed to strike a relevant chord with the lay people and significant numbers of Lebanese either remained oblivious of the saga or unable to understand its complexities. Another reason was intellectual powerlessness. It is especially noteworthy that, generally speaking, professional thinkers in Lebanon were and still are, to a very large extent, salaried employees of the state and its confessional institutions. They are not endowed with the kind of autonomy and status that intellectuals elsewhere enjoy under liberal systems. Hence, most Lebanese intellectuals remained uninterested in the larger issues revealed by the Sa’adeh saga or unwilling to take risks even when moral issues appeared to be at stake. At its simplest, their inaction kept the matter beyond the grasp of the general public. It undermined the difficult task of those intellectuals and artists who took up the mantle of Sa’adeh’s cause and discouraged others from stating their views.
More significantly, the intellectual antipathy shown towards the saga provided a favorable terrain for cynicism. To be sure, Sa’adeh was subjected to criticism even as his commemoration in the press and in the work of sympathetic artists and intellectuals was taking place, although the grumblings at that time were not effective enough to seriously challenge his hero status. Instances of that can be found in the negative press reports that appeared intermittently in hostile newspapers, and in pamphlets published by political critics. Two in particular are worth paying some attention to: al-Uruba baina Du ‘atiha was Mu’aridhiha21 by the “spiritual father of Arab nationalism,”22 Sati’ al-Husri; and Adwa’ ala Haqiqat al-Qadiyya al-Qawmiyya al-Ijtima’iyya as-Suriyya: al-Fikra al-Qawmiyyah23 by Kamal Jumblatt. Al-Husri, who met Sa’adeh only once, in 1948, published an extensive critique of Sa’adeh’s political doctrine in 1952 in the hope that this would “help Sa’adeh’s followers to develop and advance in the service of the Arab countries and the renaissance of the Arab nation.”24 Jumblatt launched into Sa’adeh from a similar perspective, which was basically to gain control of his supporters. At any rate, both critiques drew strong responses from Sa’adeh’s pupils and produced a lively debate which, in some respect, helped to remove some of the glaring misrepresentations of the man.25 Neither Jumblatt nor al-Husri, though, attempted to malign Sa’adeh’s reputation or the memory of his execution. Occasionally they criticized his style of leadership, but that didn’t matter much because it was not exclusively leadership which made Sa’adeh a martyr. As the historian Gwyn Williams has so succinctly put it in the instance of the Dic Penderyn legend in Welsh working class history, “What makes a man a martyr? Death of course – but unjust death. It is his innocence, his representative character; it is the sense of injustice.”26