Joseph El-Khoury
This year, August, as opposed to
September was the month of Bachir Gemayel.
The change in month is also coupled with a change in image. A new
re-looked Bachir, better suited for the 21st century, was unveiled
for the celebrations organised by his son Nadim in memory of the former’s 1982
election. The Lebanese Forces, stuck to a more traditional portrait of their
historical leader for the annual mass honouring their martyrs.
In times of crisis, and this is
certainly one for Lebanese Christianity, the soul searching seems to bring this
community back to the ‘golden era’ of Maronite domination ...and Bachir.
Few will argue convincingly
against the new reality in effect since the mid 1990s. The balance of power is
now unashamedly shared between three population blocks, with Sunnis and Shiaas
no longer constituting a single political and social ‘Islamic’ entity. As the
heating conflict between Sunni sand Shiaas escalates to boiling point, we hear
a deafening silence on the Christian front of the Lebanese confessional
arrangement. The burning tyres in the
Southern suburb and the sniper shots in Tripoli seem to have a muffling effect
on the figureheads of the Christian camp, all affiliation included.
Nonetheless the delusion of power
seems unshakable. For many of these a return to pre-1989 if not 1943 remains a
realistic goal. The nostalgia for better
times is certainly deeply engrained in the Christian Lebanese psyche and
perpetuated by the affiliated media. Politically, it is fuelled mostly by the
posturing of General Michel Aoun, darling of the Christian middle classes and
embodiment of their state of denial.
Michel Aoun for his supporters is what they want him to be; father
figure, saviour, astute political mover, and visionary. The man himself is less
important than the function he fulfils: Michel Aoun is everything they would
have expected from an older Bachir Gemayel, had the latter not been brutally
assassinated on that fateful day of 14th September 1982.
It is well known that those who
die young, at the height of their productivity, are always idealised in the
minds of their public. This applies to
Bachir Gemayel (who died age 35), as much as it did to the guerrilla leader Che
Guevara (died age 39) or the singer from the doors Jim Morrison (died age 27)
with the obvious differences between these characters. Exploiting their memory is often a cleansing
experience to those left behind, who end up being compromised by life and
experience.
The grief suffered by the
Christian population, at the time hurled in an ever narrowing ghetto, and
gripped by the paranoia of a threatening increasingly alien surrounding,
lingered for many years. There were no obvious replacements to Gemayel. Neither
the mild mannered, always neatly dressed Ameen could fill his brother’s shoes,
neither did the second nor third in command in the Lebanese Forces, who had
operated under Bachir as loyal sidekicks without much clout. For the following years, the leadership
struggle resembled more a boardroom overhaul rather than a true fight for the
soul of the Christians. This is until the final showdown in the mid-1980s
between Samir Geagea and Elie Hobeika, resulting in the dominance of the first
and the exile of the second. The
Christians of the ‘centre’, effectively those who originated from parts of
Mount Lebanon and Beirut did not take to Geagea, son of a northern village. His humble origins did not fit with their
image of themselves as the country’s intellectual and financial elite. The fact
he had not completed his medical studies, although for very justifiable
reasons, did not sit well with the liberal professionals (doctors, lawyers). Despite
his articulate style and his ruthless determination, Geagea in military garb or
in a suit could simply not replace Gemayel.
Enters Michel Aoun in 1988. Until
then a respected yet not over-influential army general, Michel Aoun became the
last minute attempt at avoiding a complete disintegration of state
institutions. The man brought in as a stop-gap until better solutions could be
found had other plans and a well-rehearsed rhetoric to accompany his ambitions.
Words such as ‘state’ army’ ‘order’ security’ have the effect on the Christian
Middle Classes you would expect from a 7 year old child presented with a cone
of ice cream. Aoun used them again and
again in a litany that mimicked the simple message that had sold Bachir Gemayel
(the one of 1982, not 1976) to the hearts of that population: We, the
Christians can reverse the effect of the civil war and can bring back order and
prosperity to this country, working hand in hand with those from other
confessions who choose to be as patriotic as us.
This perverse view of patriotism
as more inherent to one sect over others, unfortunately explains why the
alliance between Aoun and Hezbollah is viewed so positively by large sections
of the Christian population, despite its obvious imbalance in favour of the
Shiaa militant organisation, with which they have little in common, culturally,
politically and socially. It also explains why March 14th has not succeeded
in breaking Aoun’s popularity. By adopting Geagea, maybe by default, as a
Christian figure head and allowing the Hariri clan to treat their disparate
array of Christian allies with some disdain, they had gone too far in trampling
on the pride of the Christian middle classes. This situation persists
today. Despite the shift in his
discourse, which should assure him a broader appeal, Geagea, it is doubtful
that he will ever be in a position to capture the imagination of the majority
of Christians. This handicap is what maintains the hope of the new generation
of Gemayels in regaining a position of
leadership they believe is rightfully theirs. But their real challenge is
elsewhere. If they ever manage to ever place their differences to one side, it
is primarily the Patriotic movement they will need to wrestle for the ghost of Bachir
Gemayel.
No comments:
Post a Comment