By John Bell.
There
was once a Turkish tradition of shadow puppets that children and adults
would watch throughout the Ottoman Empire. The characters were called
Karagoz and Hacivat, the former meaning “Black Eye” in Turkish after the
character’s dark and haunting look. Over time, in Lebanon and
elsewhere, the term went on to mean a clown or joker, or Karagoz.
Today, politics in Lebanon reflect both meanings of that term: the
clown and the puppet show. Every evening, Lebanese are entertained on
the TV news by the splendiferous view of their politicians meeting and
greeting each other.
Nothing much gets done – there is no president and only a
transitional government. But, there they are, the well known cast
trading deals and whispers that, like the unrequited love of Victorian
novels, never transpire. It may be harsh to call them clowns, but the
charade, the endless soap opera, does go on and on.
Meanwhile, some also argue that the reality of Lebanon also reflects
the original idea of Karagoz, the shadow puppets. The local leaders are
the willing servants of regional agendas, manipulated by taut golden
strings stretching from Tehran and Riyadh to Beirut.
Last piece of the puzzle
The primary theory, probably right, is that there is no president in
Lebanon because Iran is holding out on that until there is further news
about the future of Syria. Once this shows the light of day, and Bashar
al-Assad’s fate is more secure, the time will come to elect a suitable
president in Lebanon.
Until then, Hezbollah is clinging to Michel Aoun while the opposite
side demonstrates an equivalent antipathy to his election. There are
many possible compromise candidates; the clinging to Aoun is a
convenient filibuster, an excuse not to agree on a deal.
Lebanon will be the last piece of the puzzle to be put into place in
any future Middle East arrangement. This was once to preserve
Hezbollah’s profile as the ultimate resistance to Israel during any
effort to resolve the Arab-Israeli conflict.
Today, Lebanon is the last card because it matters least. It can be
conveniently ignored while larger matters – Syria, Iraq – are sorted
out. All this is a testament of the endless dependency on greater
regional powers – and the puppetry of Karagoz.
Why such a dependency? Lebanon was often a small part of larger
empires, or a haven for minorites hiding in valleys and mountains,
praying that marauding armies would blithely pass them by. That is
fertile soil for the development of dependency, a world where one is not
in control of one’s fate.
It is also worthwhile to remember that the Lebanese genius lies in
trade. The great mercantile spirit that lifted Phoenician sails to the
Atlantic and beyond was fuelled by a healthy greed.
This was once married to invention and creativity – alphabets and
amphorae full of wine or garum – but today it is a more basic and raw
desire for gain, uncomplicated by such cultural claptrap. Many Lebanese,
especially leaders, can be bought.
This sense of powerlessness alongside a keen greed leads to a reflex
for short-term advantage: take whatever one can, whenever one can, for
who knows what will happen tomorrow?
Israel’s short-termism
Ironically, the hated enemy to the south, Israel, has its own version
of such short-termism. Israelis built a state and continue on with the
settlement enterprise by grabbing when and where possible. It has
survived and thrived by dealing with today’s reality, and abiding by
Keynes’s advice that, in the long term, we’re all dead.
The Lebanese sense of the immediate can be salutary and their
resilience is considerable. Shattered windows were rapidly repaired
during the civil war, and people got on with life despite the
calamities.
But, in such a world, no one has trust in the shape of the future –
because today is all that matters. Business deals are unsure, there is
no national planning, and all, including the mad and impulsive driving,
reflects the uncertainty of rapidly shifting tides.
In theory, if Lebanese leaders were to attend to their citizens’
needs instead of lining their pockets or pursuing regional schemes, then
matters could improve.
Citizens could also wrench a result from their recalcitrant leaders
by caring more for the whole than for sectarian fragments. However, the
energy and attention necessary for such efforts is unavailable because
all are consumed by the toils of the day.
Meanwhile, the allure of Karagoz remains. The powers pulling the
strings don’t care much about Lebanon’s welfare, and the cheque they
provide may abet disaster. While political talks are repeated, Lebanon
falls apart, rubbish fills the air, not just the streets, and illness is
on the rise.
The Lebanese suffer from regional agendas in which they are little
but pawns while their leaders enjoy the fruits of a dying region, and
yet many remain beholden to this state of affairs. Karagoz, the shadow
of a shadow of a reality, continues to thrive while real life just keeps
piling up until a sure and sad breaking point.
John Bell is director of the Middle East programme at the
Toledo International Centre for Peace in Madrid. He is a former UN and
Canadian diplomat, and served as political adviser to the personal
representative of the UN secretary-general for southern Lebanon and
adviser to the Canadian government.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial policy.
