Democracy Must Wait

Small, hard-bitten Adib Shishekly paced the floor of his presidential palace in Damascus one night last week, downing a highball or two. He was discouraged: everything seemed to be going wrong. For four years he had tried to unify and stabilize Syria, but the country was riddled with disaffection and on the edge of revolt. At that very hour, armed units patrolled the streets of Horns, Aleppo, and Damascus itself, and soldiers battled sullen Druze tribesmen in the remote mountainous province of Jebel Druze.

Worst of all, the reluctant strongman's experiment in democracy had come a cropper. Four years ago Shishekly seized power, ending the series of coups that had produced 16 governments in the first three years of Syrian independence from French rule. He did not want to be a man-on-horseback; he regarded himself, he said, as a sort of authoritarian custodian until his people could be "entrusted with power." He made grand plans for reforms, but initiated few of them.

Practicing Freedom. Last year, beginning to feed democracy to Syrians in small doses, he authorized parliamentary and presidential elections (though without an opposition party), and gave his people a U.S.-type constitution which he promised to enforce as soon as they acquired "political sophistication." Some

Syrian politicos decided not to wait to practice freedom. Red-led university students battled his police and shouted: "Down with Shishekly, agent of foreign imperialism!" The Bar Association, in co operation with the Reds, organized strikes in the cities.

Some of his officers begged Shishekly to go back to being a strongman, but he had taken a calculated gamble: if Syria could ride out the crisis without returning to police-state methods, democracy would be on its way. While Shishekly lingered and hoped, the opposition prepared. In June the ousted politicos -- extreme right-wing ers, moderates, left Socialists, and the old Druze chieftain, Sultan Pasha el Atrash -- met secretly, organized the Popular Bloc, and agreed to bury their hatchet --in Shishekly's back. Still Shishekly did nothing. Three weeks ago, emboldened, the Popular Bloc plotted the final act, the overthrow of Shishekly. The climax was set for the night of Wednesday, Jan. 27.

Back to GHQ. Last week, when students at Horns began rioting on schedule, and old Sultan Pasha el Atrash called in his subchieftains to plot trouble, Shishekly abandoned his gamble. He left the presidential palace, went to his desk at army GHQ and decreed martial law.

Quickly, troops sealed off the Sultan's house, placed the Sultan under house arrest, then battled off enraged Druze tribesmen as tanks moved into the area. Police jailed the twelve top leaders of the Popular Bloc and the heads of the Bar Association. Said Shishekly over Radio Damascus: "These leaders exploited the liberal principles proclaimed by my new regime . . . Naive citizens in some districts went to the extreme of actually clashing with the armed security forces. This necessitated quick measures."

On the night of Jan. 27, Damascus lay quiet save for the tread of military patrols. For the moment at least, the army seemed in control of the country and Shishekly seemed in control of the army.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.