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By Ben Ryan
Ben Ryan, guest-blogging here from the American University of Beirut, and awaiting evacuation. I've been chronicling my trip at Columbia University's international affairs program's blog, The Morningside Post (specifically the summer switchboard) until now. Josh has asked me to weigh in here with some personal account of what's going on on the ground in Beirut now, so here goes.
I can't speak to everywhere in Beirut -- my movements are presently limited to the sector right near AUB and the neighborhood of Hamra. I can tell you that this morning was the first time I really didn't just see smoke but smelled it too; burnt concrete, rubber and fried wiring. It was very much like the smell that permeated lower Manhattan in the days and weeks after 9/11, and the city smog was worse than it usually is. I'm not sure where that is coming from -- the port, the south, or the army barracks that were bombed last night. Maybe all three.
The evacuations of foreigners are now in full swing, as you no doubt know from the news. We here at AUB are expecting to hear from whoever is organizing ours at any time -- it could be today, it could be Friday. We're staying close to campus and in touch with each other, as most of don't have cellphones or other good ways to get in immediate touch if they make an announcement. At that point, it could be hours before we leave.
The Lebanese denizens of Hamra who were so welcoming and helpful when I arrived are cautious and reticent now. Lebanese and, I'm led to believe, most Arabs, are always pleasantly surprised to encounter Americans. They light up and immediately want to know how you like it here, have you tried this food, etc. One Lebanese woman from Zahle (in the Biqaa Valley) was helping me find the French university here two weeks ago and, when I protested that she was going to too much trouble, responded, "No, it's fine. If I was in New York, people there would help me!" I wasn't prepared to argue, and just agreed that indeed I would help her. Now, those we talk to helpfully advise us that we "should leave Lebanon quickly." We assure them we are. But the point remains that the anti-Americanism we hear so much about these days is to a large extent directed at the US government and not its citizens. People do know the difference. Most of them.
As families are displaced from the south -- the suburbs of Beirut and the southern regions of the country - and settling into the surrounding hotels and apartment buildings here, they're bringing Hezbollah with them. Hezbollah is many things in Lebanon, among which is a mafia-like protection machine. These people are their constituents, their base, and their wards. Though Hamra (and most of Lebanon outside of the southern Shi'a and Palestinian refugees) doesn't care much for Hezbollah, they aren't willing to openly cross them and avoid attracting too much of their attention. Al Manar, the Hezbollah television station, is on all the restaurant and cafe TVs now.
Regardless of how Lebanese feel or felt about Hezbollah when all this started, they are increasingly rooting for them these days. When the conflict began, the most common reaction I heard here -- from Christians, Sunnis, or Shiites -- was basically, "Goddammit, Hezbollah!" People were angry and frustrated that they would do something like this, at the height of tourist season (tourism is a huge part of the Lebanese economy; in a nation of 3.5 million, it employs 500,000). But as the days go on and Israeli bombs continue to fall all over the country, Hezbollah is the force fighting back. People begin to care less how this all started, and more about who's aiming their weapons the right direction. Increasingly the attitude is, "Yes, Hezbollah are bastards, but they're our bastards."
Last night was particularly instructive. A group of us were hanging out on campus and decided to go a few blocks into Hamra to a bar called De Prague (for you New York types, it has a distinctly Lower East Side feel -- local art on the walls, American -- but not pop -- tunes, and a big screen TV playing Simpsons re-runs). We had gone maybe two blocks when the hackles on our necks starting raising. The men loitering on street corners, and congregating at closed cafes, were not late night revelers. They were busy doing things, and they were keenly aware of our presence. One walked by us and coughed into his hand, "Stop, stop," -- I imagine that was the most subtle way he could tell us that this was not where we wanted to be. We're sticking to campus for now, and hoping they get us out soon.
I had initially intended to try and wait out this storm, with the hopes that I could get out at the end of August in time for the school year (I'm in a two year master's degree program, with one year left). But with the increasing unease I feel in my own neighborhood here -- going out at night has become a non-starter - and the direction this little dialogue of demolition is moving in, that has looked less and less possible.
Timur Goksel, a consultant with UNIFIL for almost 30 years and currently an AUB professor, gave a talk on campus yesterday to try and explain the situation in Lebanon and give us an idea of what to expect in the coming days and months. In brief, he said that the pattern of Israel's bombing campaign in the south indicated that it was "creating a battlefield" in preparation for a ground invasion, to root out Hezbollah bases and weapons caches. Once they could present a horde of captured weapons they could declare that Hezbollah had been pushed back and go home. He was pessimistic about this working very quickly; he says that in 30 years, he has not once learned the location of a Hezbollah installation, aside from the few that they have publically for show. The PLO, in the 1970s and 1980s, had signs on their bases and a (relatively) open organization. The Israelis were able to go in with a map and roll them all up relatively easily. Hezbollah, says Goksel, learned from the PLOs mistakes. They are compartmentalized, they do not work with any outside groups (they consult with and keep in mind the interests of Syria and Iran, but they don't follow orders or work directly with them), and they do not advertise their positions. Goksel predicts that, if Hezbollah doesn't let the Israelis "find" a few weapons caches so they can declare victory and go home early, this might drag on for a long time. Hezbollah might -- Goksel estimates they have some 15,000 more rockets and missiles in their caches, and could afford to burn a few that way -- but they might not.
I don't imagine that Israel will actually be able to wipe out Hezbollah, and the longer this conflict goes on the stronger politically Hezbollah will be at the end. The war is understandably killing the economy here, and with it the legitimate Lebanese government's revenue streams. Hezbollah's revenue comes from Syria and Iran -- streams unaffected, or even improved, by the conflict. Without a clear victory or a ceasefire soon, Israel is going to leave Lebanon more in Hezbollah's hands than ever before.
http://www.tpmcafe.com/blog/specialg...ng_from_beirut
Ben Ryan, guest-blogging here from the American University of Beirut, and awaiting evacuation. I've been chronicling my trip at Columbia University's international affairs program's blog, The Morningside Post (specifically the summer switchboard) until now. Josh has asked me to weigh in here with some personal account of what's going on on the ground in Beirut now, so here goes.
I can't speak to everywhere in Beirut -- my movements are presently limited to the sector right near AUB and the neighborhood of Hamra. I can tell you that this morning was the first time I really didn't just see smoke but smelled it too; burnt concrete, rubber and fried wiring. It was very much like the smell that permeated lower Manhattan in the days and weeks after 9/11, and the city smog was worse than it usually is. I'm not sure where that is coming from -- the port, the south, or the army barracks that were bombed last night. Maybe all three.
The evacuations of foreigners are now in full swing, as you no doubt know from the news. We here at AUB are expecting to hear from whoever is organizing ours at any time -- it could be today, it could be Friday. We're staying close to campus and in touch with each other, as most of don't have cellphones or other good ways to get in immediate touch if they make an announcement. At that point, it could be hours before we leave.
The Lebanese denizens of Hamra who were so welcoming and helpful when I arrived are cautious and reticent now. Lebanese and, I'm led to believe, most Arabs, are always pleasantly surprised to encounter Americans. They light up and immediately want to know how you like it here, have you tried this food, etc. One Lebanese woman from Zahle (in the Biqaa Valley) was helping me find the French university here two weeks ago and, when I protested that she was going to too much trouble, responded, "No, it's fine. If I was in New York, people there would help me!" I wasn't prepared to argue, and just agreed that indeed I would help her. Now, those we talk to helpfully advise us that we "should leave Lebanon quickly." We assure them we are. But the point remains that the anti-Americanism we hear so much about these days is to a large extent directed at the US government and not its citizens. People do know the difference. Most of them.
As families are displaced from the south -- the suburbs of Beirut and the southern regions of the country - and settling into the surrounding hotels and apartment buildings here, they're bringing Hezbollah with them. Hezbollah is many things in Lebanon, among which is a mafia-like protection machine. These people are their constituents, their base, and their wards. Though Hamra (and most of Lebanon outside of the southern Shi'a and Palestinian refugees) doesn't care much for Hezbollah, they aren't willing to openly cross them and avoid attracting too much of their attention. Al Manar, the Hezbollah television station, is on all the restaurant and cafe TVs now.
Regardless of how Lebanese feel or felt about Hezbollah when all this started, they are increasingly rooting for them these days. When the conflict began, the most common reaction I heard here -- from Christians, Sunnis, or Shiites -- was basically, "Goddammit, Hezbollah!" People were angry and frustrated that they would do something like this, at the height of tourist season (tourism is a huge part of the Lebanese economy; in a nation of 3.5 million, it employs 500,000). But as the days go on and Israeli bombs continue to fall all over the country, Hezbollah is the force fighting back. People begin to care less how this all started, and more about who's aiming their weapons the right direction. Increasingly the attitude is, "Yes, Hezbollah are bastards, but they're our bastards."
Last night was particularly instructive. A group of us were hanging out on campus and decided to go a few blocks into Hamra to a bar called De Prague (for you New York types, it has a distinctly Lower East Side feel -- local art on the walls, American -- but not pop -- tunes, and a big screen TV playing Simpsons re-runs). We had gone maybe two blocks when the hackles on our necks starting raising. The men loitering on street corners, and congregating at closed cafes, were not late night revelers. They were busy doing things, and they were keenly aware of our presence. One walked by us and coughed into his hand, "Stop, stop," -- I imagine that was the most subtle way he could tell us that this was not where we wanted to be. We're sticking to campus for now, and hoping they get us out soon.
I had initially intended to try and wait out this storm, with the hopes that I could get out at the end of August in time for the school year (I'm in a two year master's degree program, with one year left). But with the increasing unease I feel in my own neighborhood here -- going out at night has become a non-starter - and the direction this little dialogue of demolition is moving in, that has looked less and less possible.
Timur Goksel, a consultant with UNIFIL for almost 30 years and currently an AUB professor, gave a talk on campus yesterday to try and explain the situation in Lebanon and give us an idea of what to expect in the coming days and months. In brief, he said that the pattern of Israel's bombing campaign in the south indicated that it was "creating a battlefield" in preparation for a ground invasion, to root out Hezbollah bases and weapons caches. Once they could present a horde of captured weapons they could declare that Hezbollah had been pushed back and go home. He was pessimistic about this working very quickly; he says that in 30 years, he has not once learned the location of a Hezbollah installation, aside from the few that they have publically for show. The PLO, in the 1970s and 1980s, had signs on their bases and a (relatively) open organization. The Israelis were able to go in with a map and roll them all up relatively easily. Hezbollah, says Goksel, learned from the PLOs mistakes. They are compartmentalized, they do not work with any outside groups (they consult with and keep in mind the interests of Syria and Iran, but they don't follow orders or work directly with them), and they do not advertise their positions. Goksel predicts that, if Hezbollah doesn't let the Israelis "find" a few weapons caches so they can declare victory and go home early, this might drag on for a long time. Hezbollah might -- Goksel estimates they have some 15,000 more rockets and missiles in their caches, and could afford to burn a few that way -- but they might not.
I don't imagine that Israel will actually be able to wipe out Hezbollah, and the longer this conflict goes on the stronger politically Hezbollah will be at the end. The war is understandably killing the economy here, and with it the legitimate Lebanese government's revenue streams. Hezbollah's revenue comes from Syria and Iran -- streams unaffected, or even improved, by the conflict. Without a clear victory or a ceasefire soon, Israel is going to leave Lebanon more in Hezbollah's hands than ever before.
http://www.tpmcafe.com/blog/specialg...ng_from_beirut