by AP and Israel Hayom Staff
Many Lebanese are fed up with politicians who have exploited the sectarian power-sharing system to perpetuate corruption • A campaign over the piles of trash mounting in Beirut's streets has grown into a movement against the entire political structure.
A Lebanese activist holds a
poster with pictures of Lebanese cabinet ministers during a protest in
Beirut over the ongoing trash crisis
|
Photo credit: AP |
To the casual visitor, Lebanon may seem like a
tiny slice of Mediterranean modernity and coexistence in a turbulent
region plagued by violence and extremism.
But for many Lebanese, it's a rotting state
eaten away by a political class that has long used the country's
sectarian power-sharing system to perpetuate corruption and nepotism.
And while recent protests over uncollected
trash have challenged an arrangement almost universally denounced by
Lebanese, they also can't seem to shake it. Many argue that system is
what has allowed the country of 4.5 million people from 18 recognized
and often rival sects to survive.
"You Stink," the main activist group behind
the protest movement, called for a massive demonstration on Saturday.
Its campaign started over the fetid piles of trash mounting in Beirut's
streets after the government closed the country's main landfill, but it
has mushroomed into a movement against the entire political structure.
At the heart of Lebanon's problems, some say,
is an unwritten arrangement since Lebanon's 1943 independence which
stipulates that the country's president must be a Christian, the prime
minister a Sunni Muslim and the speaker of parliament a Shiite Muslim --
the three largest communities.
The agreement was further enshrined in the
Taif Accord, which ended Lebanon's 1975-90 civil war, and requires that
the parliament and cabinet must be half Muslim and half Christian. The
sectarianism trickles down to other posts, including the army commander
and central bank governor, who are traditionally Christians, and the
deputy prime minister, who has to be Greek Orthodox.
Critics contend it's a recipe for a weak
central government. Politicians largely act as the voices of their sect
and engage in cronyism and patronage for their communities.
"What we have in Lebanon is a consortium of
sectarian networks operating as social welfare providers in various
regions under religion auspices, with sectarian and local leadership
substituting almost everything that the government should be providing,"
said Imad Salamey, associate professor of political science at the
Lebanese American University.
At the same time, the system creates a
delicate balance of power that no side is prepared to disrupt as the key
to Lebanon's tenuous stability.
The Iranian-backed Shiite Muslim Hezbollah terrorist organization is a prime example.
By far the strongest political force in
Lebanon, it's on the U.S. State Department's list of terrorist groups,
has engaged in several devastating wars with Israel and has sent
thousands of fighters to shore up President Bashar Assad's forces in
Syria -- all controversial moves in Lebanon. Its guerrilla army is at
least as well-armed and trained as the Lebanese military, and for
Shiites it provides an elaborate social welfare network that includes
schools, hospitals and clinics.
It dominates local politics and came close to
carrying out a coup in 2008. But it has also been meticulously mindful
not to go too far and spark a backlash from other sects that would wreck
a status quo it benefits from.
"Lebanon has managed to avoid drifting toward
total collapse and it has also avoided moving toward dictatorship
largely because of this balance of power between the various sects,"
Salemey said.
That balance has an impact beyond politics.
Hezbollah has a fundamentalist Shiite ideology and Lebanon has plenty of
Sunni conservatives, but no faction is strong enough to try to impose
strict Islamic mores on Lebanon's freewheeling society. With no one
force totally in charge, Lebanon has perhaps the freest media in the
region. That, along with its Mediterranean beaches, bars and a renovated
downtown in Beirut, gives the country an air of liberal modernity.
Others say the problem lies not in the
governing system, but in the political class itself, which never rose
above the warlord-style governance of the civil war.
Key decisions remain in the hands of political
dynasties that gained power because of immense wealth or by commanding
powerful militias during the war.
For example, former president Amin Gemayel
passed on leadership of the Christian Phalange party to his son, Sami.
Walid Jumblatt, leader of the Druze sect, has been gradually handing
over the reins to his son, Taymour. Former army commander Michel Aoun
this week passed on leadership of the Free Patriotic Movement to his
son-in-law, the current foreign minister, Gibran Bassil. Parliament
speaker Nabih Berri, who leads the Shiite Amal militia, has been in his
post for 23 years.
Amid the divisions, government dysfunction has
worsened. There hasn't been a parliament election since 2009, and
lawmakers have unconstitutionally extended their terms and pushed backed
elections twice, ostensibly for security reasons linked to Syria's
civil war. There has been no president for 15 months, despite nearly 30
attempts by parliament to convene to elect one.
It took nearly a year to agree on a new
government after the prime minister resigned in March 2013. But now the
government is paralyzed by disputes about decision-making with no
president to chair the meetings. Parliament has not voted on a budget in
years, letting the cabinet simply write its own. Lawmakers have never
met to discuss policies to deal with the influx of hundreds of thousands
of Syrian refugees that has strained education, health and electricity
to their limits.
As a result, Lebanon is one of the most
backward Mideast countries in terms of infrastructure and development.
Corruption and red tape hamper investment, there is no proper health
care plan and Lebanon's Internet connection is one of the slowest in the
region. Most irksome to the Lebanese are the extensive power cuts,
which persist 25 years after the civil war ended.
That's partly because some lawmakers and other
politicians run profitable businesses in the power generators that
provide electricity to homes for exorbitant fees. Many make millions in
construction and real estate and receive a cut from monopolies on
telecommunications, gas and other commodities.
Many Lebanese acknowledge they have only
themselves to blame because they keep electing the same people to
parliament, either for narrow interests or religious loyalties.
For many, the indignity of the trash crisis
was the last straw. Even if the sectarian system is too big to throw
out, at least new politicians can be brought in who will pay attention
to public needs, they say. One of the most popular protest banners shows
the faces of a dozen top politicians under the declaration: "Some trash
should NOT be recycled."
"The first thing we are going to ask for
tomorrow is new parliament elections," said Amal Hamra, a 37-year-old
advertising agent, speaking at a small protest in Beirut on Friday. "We
are done with bringing back the same people who spend their time
vacationing outside Lebanon while we live in filth!"
Hazem al-Amin, a columnist for Lebanon's
pan-Arab daily Al Hayat, said the trash crisis has provided a moment for
people to revolt against politicians who have long taken its
constituents for granted.
"There is a sense among all people that the decay can no longer be overlooked," he said.
AP and Israel Hayom Staff
Source: http://www.israelhayom.com/site/newsletter_article.php?id=27943
Copyright - Original materials copyright (c) by the authors.
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