Lebanon: No Picnic All Around

Syria seizes three Israelis, and a shaky new Cabinet is born

On a bright spring morning last week, three young Israeli officials took off by car from their liaison office in the Lebanese village of Dbayeh, on the outskirts of Beirut. Their destination: the ancient ruins of Byblos, about twelve miles to the north, where they ostensibly planned to sightsee and picnic. Inexplicably, however, they drove past their destination along the coastal road. They crossed Christian Phalange and Lebanese Army checkpoints without incident, then suddenly spotted a Syrian checkpoint straight ahead. Realizing that they had strayed into hostile territory, they turned the car around and tried to flee. Syrian soldiers opened fire on the retreating auto and gave chase. By the time a special commando team from Israel had been sent to the scene in an effort to rescue its stranded countrymen, the three officials had been captured. They were flown to Damascus, where the Syrian government announced that they would be held as prisoners of war.

Both Syrian and Israeli authorities lost no time in offering their explanations for the curious, combustible incident. As Damascus told it, the radios and cameras indicated that the three Israelis were spies, not tourists; they were mounting a deliberate attempt to infiltrate Syrian lines; moreover, the Israelis were armed and had started shooting first. Israel adamantly claimed that the captives were nothing more than irresponsible civilians. “The Israeli version seems more plausible,” said a Western diplomat in Beirut. “But the men were stupid to be in the area, and Jerusalem will be asking some pretty tough questions of those in charge at the Dbayeh liaison office.”

That office, where the three Israelis worked as low-ranking security employees, is a quasi-diplomatic Israeli delegation and intelligence-gathering center located in the Christian-held area just north of Beirut. The errant Israeli trio gave the Syrians a long-awaited pretext for drawing widespread attention to the unofficial office and for contending anew that the delegation is, in fact, a conduit for the shipment of arms and ammunition to Christian militiamen in Lebanon.

The Israelis could retaliate by seizing a high-level Syrian official. But such a move, Israeli Defense Minister Moshe Arens admitted, “would increase the chance for an armed clash with Syria.” Other options could prove no less incendiary. “The situation is fluid and dangerous enough for the Syrians to play games,” said a top-ranking Israeli defense official in Tel Aviv. “It might be a game they will regret ever playing.”

Meanwhile, a tug of war was developing over Lebanon’s new Cabinet. Rashid Karami, 62, had been appointed Prime Minister two weeks ago and asked to form his tenth Cabinet since 1955. It was hoped that Karami, a pro-Syrian Sunni Muslim, would find that a new 26-member Cabinet would be large enough to accommodate all of Lebanon’s myriad sectarian interests and make a political reality of the dramatic realignment in the country’s balance of military power brought about when Shi’ite militiamen seized control of West Beirut in February.

After days of haggling with factional leaders and after several hours of talks with President Amin Gemayel, Karami unveiled his new plan last week. It surprised most Lebanese and enraged many. For although the proposed Cabinet prudently included representatives from all six of Lebanon’s main religious groups, it had only ten seats, and it distributed them in a manner that did less to correct the underrepresentation of Shi’ites and Druze in Lebanese politics than to compound it. Shi’ite Leader Nabih Berri, 44, was given the relatively unimportant portfolio of Justice, Water and Electricity; Druze Chieftain Walid Jumblatt, 35, was offered Transport, Public Works and Tourism. Said one prominent Sunni powerbroker: “I guess Karami thinks that by co-opting a Cabinet rather than forming one through consensus, he can steamroll issues through.”

The Cabinet enjoyed a singularly inauspicious debut. No sooner were the assignments announced than Berri refused to have any part of them. Jumblatt decided that he would not join until Berri’s grievances were answered. Apparently in sympathy for his father-in-law, ex-President Suleiman Franjieh, who was overlooked in the new Cabinet, Interior Minister-elect Abdullah Rassi also declined to attend the Cabinet’s first meeting.

The Shi’ites remain determined that their recent military victories be reflected in political gains. “Even the defense portfolio was denied us,” said Ghassan Siblini, one of Berri’s top aides. “What Karami is offering is the status quo, and that is not what we have been fighting for at such a high cost in terms of lives and destruction.” Berri demanded that Karami address the Shi’ites’ most urgent concerns by establishing two new ministries, one for managing reconstruction and the other for overseeing Israeli-controlled southern Lebanon. “Berri cannot ignore the twin pillars of Shi’ite thinking and remain on top,” said a high-ranking Shi’ite official. “If he accepts what he has been offered, his political career will come to an end.”

Even as the body created to restore Lebanese unity was torn at by bartering and bickering, Beirut’s latest cease-fire was being shattered on a daily basis. Peace-keeping buffer groups were forced to run for cover, and several civilians were killed. The only point of universal agreement was that Lebanon faced what Karami called “a delicate time element that cannot bear delay.” War-weary Beirutis have already dubbed the new Cabinet a “last-chance government.” With such a shaky debut, the last-chance lineup may not last for long.

—By Pico Iyer. Reported by John Borrell/Beirut and David Halevy/Jerusalem