A mixed bag: the journalist’s lot

An Ethiopian relative of one of the passengers who was on board an Ethiopian Airlines plane, which crashed into the Mediterranean sea on Monday morning, waits outside a hospital in Beirut January 27, 2010. The pilot of an Ethiopian airliner that crashed off the Lebanese coast did not respond to a request to change direction before contact was cut, the Lebanese transport minister said on Tuesday. REUTERS/ Mohamed Azakir

Just a quick one today.

Firstly let me express sincere condolences to all relatives and friends who have lost loved ones.

In the wake of the ET409 crash early Monday morning, I have not slept much and written more column inches than I usually do in a week.

Today I recieved two notable responses to articles I have composed since that ill-fated jet disappeared from radar screens.

 

Municipal elections are not negotiable

A Lebanese woman shows her ink-stained thumb after casting her vote at a polling station in Saadnayel, in the eastern Bekaa valley, Lebanon, Sunday, June 7, 2009. (AP Photo/Hassan Ammar)

The Lebanese Cabinet is expected to discuss the issue of proposed reforms to Municipal Elections at today’s dialogue session in Baabda.

Interior Minister Ziad Baroud’s draft amendments are expected to “draw controversy,” although for the life of me I cannot understand why. Baroud, ever the pragmatist, has come up with a list of changes that parliament should pass before the forthcoming Municipal vote, which is meant to be held before May 2010 – we’ll come to this in a minute.

Baroud has taken the safest possibly avenue in order to press reform. An Nahar, Lebanon’s largest paper, today published what it claims to be asked-for changes to electoral law. These include the direct election of municipality heads and deputies, a woman’s quota in 30 percent of ballots, PR voting in major cities and pre-printed ballot papers.

All these are welcome changes. Not all are likely to be made.

 

Seven months, seven photos

Today I am marking, as well as the end of an eventful 2009, seven months in Beirut. I have reported on many interesting and important issues, from Hashish clearing in the Bekaa Valley to interviewing trauma surgeons in Haifa Hospital, Burj al-Barajneh.

Here are seven photos, chosen more or less randomly, from those seven months. I hope for many more in Lebanon. Enjoy!

A boy receiving treatment in Haifa Hospital, Burj al-Barajneh, July

A mural of Jesus in St George's Cathedral, Downtown Beirut, August

UNIFIL mine-clearer, Tibnin, August

Women on a shopping trip, Downtown Beirut, September

The telepherique at Harissa, Jounieh Highway, October

A boy takes part in Ashurah, Nabatiyeh, December

A boy prepares for bloodletting, Nabatiyeh, December

 

Something rotten in south Beirut

Lebanese investigators take pictures at the site of a blast in southern Beirut on December 27, 2009. Three people were killed in the mysterious blast in Hezbollah's stronghold in southern Beirut, security officials said, including two members of the Palestinian Islamist group Hamas. AFP PHOTO/STR

To be frank, the circumstances surrounding the death of two Hamas officials on Saturday night stink.

Lebanese MPs have been quick to blame the enemy down south for planting the 15kg of explosives which killed Hassan Saeed al-Haddad and Bassel Ahmed Jomaa in the Beirut suburb of Haret Hreik.

But nothing about the attack – its timing, location or targets – automatically implements Israel.

Hamas itself is reticent in banding accusations of assassinations around too lucidly; the group’s representative in Lebanon has been uncharacteristically restrained in interviews and addresses since the incident.

No official from any Lebanese security force, be he with ISF or LAF, will comment on the blast. The ISF says those interested should contact the LAF. The LAF says speak to the judiciary. The judiciary claims nothing is known about the bombing.

Not even The Sayyed, delivering his address to thousands of supporters in Dahiyeh on the eve of the climax to Ashura, alluded to the explosion which can’t have occurred more than 100m from his heavily fortified front door.

So why aren’t people talking – people who matter, at least - about Saturday night?

 

Weathering the storm

A storm breaks offshore from Beirut PHOTO: Akhater http://www.flickr.com/photos/akhater/

“Pray don’t talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me so nervous.”
- Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, Act 1

Firstly, apologies for a post about the weather – it is, as Wilde once quipped, “the last refuge of the unimaginative.”

But there can be no refuge for Lebanon’s hapless Minister of Transport and Public Works, who seems to blame everyone but himself for the country’s inability to deal with poor weather. It is the municipalities, Ghazi Aridi laments, who ought to deal with localized flooding and storm damage.

As schools and other public buildings are evacuated, power cuts more rampant than usual and roads turned unceremoniously into canals, Aridi has no one to blame but himself.

Minister of Transport and Public Works Ghazi Aridi

Firstly, is not the responsibility of individual municipalities to protect the safety of Lebanese citizens. That job falls to the ISF, under the tutelage of the ever-proactive Ziad Baroud. This is, ultimately, the primary concern during periods of adverse weather.

But Aridi’s idea of decentralized planning to deal with acts of nature misses the root cause of the problem: for too long Lebanon as been redeveloped in a manner that is haphazard and poorly coordinated.

Individual private sector firms build upon swaths of land, plastering porous soil in impermeable concrete. The reason why rainwater collects and destroys so rapidly in Lebanon is because most of the country is covered in tarmac.

Two weeks ago I was awoken by workers drilling through the asphalt on the street below to get to manhole and drain covers which had been thoughtless tarmaced over the last time the road was relayed. Annoying as this was, the incident epitomizes the make do and mend attitude of the public work’s ministry, unable to reign in local developmental malpractice.

A complete lack of centralized planning is the fault of central administration and the cause of so much damage whenever the heavens break above Beirut and other towns in Lebanon.

Aridi has repeatedly shown an inability to deal with a compartmentalized planning system. Unlike his diligent cohort in the fight against flooding, Aridi seems unwilling to shoulder responsibility.

Lebanon’s Minister of Public Works simply isn’t working.

 

From Cairo to Copenhagen: Arab stance on climate change

Lebanese environmental activists carry a banner calling on Arab countries to take action against climate change, as Arab participants enter the venue of the annual conference of the Arab Forum for Environment and Development (AFED) in BEIRUT, November 19, 2009. The forum highlights the impact of climate change on Arab countries. REUTERS/ Mohamed Azakir

When Arab leaders arrived last week  in Beirut to discuss how to avert climate change, they did so – without exception – in elaborately large cars.

Attendees at the Arab Forum for Environment and Development (AFED) conference in Sin El Fil came with a swashbuckling desire to adapt to the proliferating damage being wrought by global warming. They came with high rhetoric and ambitious plans.

They also came with an hypocrisy which extended way beyond their deeply inappropriate transport.

 

Lebanon 0 – 2 China PR

 

China's Qu Bo (L) fights for the ball with Lebanon's Hussein al-Amin during their 2011 AFC Asian Cup qualifier match in Beirut November 14, 2009. REUTERS/Jamal Saidi (LEBANON SPORT SOCCER)

 

 

Frantic, ferocious and more than a little farcical; this was an international football match Lebanese style.

Thousands of fans descended upon Beirut’s Municipal Stadium on Saturday to see minnows Lebanon take on the might of China in a qualifying match for the 2011 Asian Cup.

With China having roughly 300 players at their disposal for every one Lebanese, the odds looked stacked against the Cedars. That Lebanon was rock bottom of Group D before Saturday’s clash, with zero points, did little to dispel the pre-match feeling of impending annihilation.

As dusk fell over the Al-Baladi stadium, Lebanon’s fans – flanked by police trussed up like extras from Robocop, sub-machine guns and tear gas canisters at the ready – adopted an intriguing tactic: abuse the opposition team, fans (all 15 of them) and the referee. Relentlessly.

 

Baroud’s Biking Backfire

Let me make this clear. I am no denouncer of Ziad Baroud. Lebanon’s hugely popular Interior Minister, who received widespread acclaim from his handling of the June 7 election, is a man I appreciate greatly. His apparent ability to see past the sectarian rivalry – in which many senior politicians seem hopelessly mired – is as refreshing as it is admirable. Baroud’s maxim of “security is a red line,” over which partisanship must never tread, is welcome.

From an administrative point of view, his tenure on the Internal Security Forces has been successful. As an order-keeping unit they are rightly respected, regardless of the heavy-handed tactics individuals within the ISF sometimes employ.

But the Interior Ministry’s decision to ban the use of motorcycles outside of daylight hours in the wake of the clash in Ain al-Remmeneh that left one man dead and four others seriously injured is a reaction straight from the knee-jerk category.

True, there are almost daily reports from the suburbs of Lebanon’s big cities of residents being terrorized by gangs of thugs atop scooters. Two-wheeled vehicles are perfect – so the argument goes - for people seeking to harm or intimidate others as they can make speedy getaways through Beirut and Tripoli’s labyrinthine alleyways.

But banning all motorcycles is unnecessarily heavy-handed and may yet prove counterproductive to its acclaimed goal of reducing security breaches.

Security is a red line.

There is first the issue of a lack of differentiation. As a logical premise, a considerable percentage of criminals ride motorbikes or scooters. But the “bad people are people, bad people ride motorcycles, therefore all people who ride motorcycles are bad” reduction is obviously wrong. A great deal of law-abiding citizens are being punished for the misdemeanors of a few.

Next is the fact that people who do bad things on motorbikes don’t do it because they ride on two wheels. They do it because they are bad people. If someone has a score to settle or a bone to pick, they are unlikely to be deterred if they can’t ride their scooter. A murderer doesn’t become absolved if you take away his ride – he just becomes a slower murderer.

There are a few exemptions from the ban; bakers and press for example (lucky me). But in many cases carrying a bag of flour between your seat won’t make you safe from prosecution, as many bikes are unregistered. Even if, like me, you have all documents present and correct, you still face regular interrogation from soldiers holding guns asking gruffly for your papers. This is a deeply unpleasant experience even if all it does is make you five minutes late for work.

 Unforeseen side-effects from the IM’s bitter medicine are likely to emerge. Many people rely on their bikes to get to work or visit family members. The ban won’t just make this harder to do, it is likely to deteriorate Beirut’s already derisory traffic situation further, as scooters and bikes are narrow; cars and minibuses are not.

There is another, less comfortable association with targeting motorbike and scooter owners. I have been stigmatized for owning a scooter, with people telling me, quite openly that “only poor people and zooz (Lebanese chavs) ride them.” Baroud’s decision to ban their use raises the doubtless-unintended prospect of the Ministry targeting a particular socioeconomic group. Less well-off people will find it harder to get to work or travel around the city to do what they need to do. (Generally but by no means definitively) richer car-owners will continue unscathed. There is no proof that this was the IM’s intention, but the suggestion is nonetheless uncomfortable. 

Of course, Baroud faced a barrage of political pressure to be seen to be doing something following outrage over Ain al-Remmeneh from senior governmental figures. But a blanket ban on two-wheels is misjudged.

 

Ali the one-legged mineclearer

Ali sits outside MAG's Kfar Zor headquarters. I have no idea who the man in the shades is

Ali Murad smiles serenely as he tells me about the day he lost his leg.

He is dressed smart, in a pristine, grey t-shirt and khaki combat trousers and speaks in broken English with measured understatement.

“I was conscious when I went to the hospital, believe me, I remember everything,” he says and shuffles awkwardly onto his prosthetic leg.

Ali was part of Lebanon’s Mine Action Group, a team of some 400 trained mine clearers who have been working to rid the country from its estimated one million cluster bombs – relics from the 2006 war with Israel that still carpet much of south Lebanon – on a fateful February morning. His squadron had been working on a plot of land, known to be “heavily contaminated” all morning and had stopped for a break. These were the last moments of Ali’s first life.

 

Landmines and prison breaks

Suited for cluster-bomb clearing in Tibnin, Lebanon

One of the most enjoyable things about being a reporter in Lebanon is the access it affords.

You want to speak to the Interior Minister? Sure, here’s his mobile and home phone number. You need a quote from the Head of the Internal Security Forces? Go ahead, he’ll call you after lunch and tell you, in perfect English, what it is you’re after.

Last week, I wanted to speak with UNIFIL troops in the south of the country, and file a dispatch from Tibnin on how the cluster-bomb clearing operation is going three years after the Summer War of 2006.

After a few phonecalls and correspondence with a charmingly eccentric Italian UN General, I was on the way to the south, a few kilometers from Israel, a state against which Lebanon is still officially at war.