Hamlet in Action

As army chief of staff during Lebanon's 1958 rebellion. General Fuad Chehab, 58, earned the nickname "Hamlet" from U.S. officials for his indecisive refusal to attack the rebel barricades in Beirut. But in the impassioned Middle East, refusal to act can sometimes be more impressive than action itself. Chehab avoided bloodshed, and Lebanon admired that more than any other of his accomplishments. Both Moslem and Christian rallied behind this champion of compromise, elected him to the presidency for six years as the little country's best hope for peace and unity.

Last week change threatened Lebanon's long political truce. Saeb Salam, a leader in the 1958 rebellion, had won a comeback victory in last month's parliamentary elections, was demanding appointment as Premier. All seemed settled when the lame-duck Cabinet members presented themselves at the palace to resign. President Chehab had a surprise for them. He announced his own resignation, effective immediately. "I have done my duty; my conscience is clear," he declared, and talked of a long vacation on the Riviera.

The country was dumfounded. Outgoing Premier Ahmed Daouk pleaded wet-eyed for 90 minutes. Interior Minister Edmond Gaspard cried: "Had I the power, I would deny you the right to resign." Two prominent politicians got the news at bathing beaches and, dragging their robes, galloped across the sand to the nearest telephones. Shopkeepers in Che-hab's home town of Jounieh closed down to protest the resignation, and churches of his faith (Maronite Roman Catholic) tolled their bells in sorrow. Politicians kept Chehab's telephone jangling and pounded on the door of his Jounieh home.

But not until 90 out of 99 members ofParliament, including Salam, had signed a resolution "appealing to your patriot ism to save the country at this delicate hour" did Chehab let a delegation in.

The distraught Deputies threatened a nationwide strike; others swore that they would camp in his front yard until he changed his mind. Chehab's wife called him aside, and 15 minutes later the President came back to say he would stay in after all. Joyously bodyguards fired their pistols into the air. One Deputy whipped out a small submachine gun from under his flowing sports shirt and blasted away. Every light in the district, including the Chehab villa, blinked out -- somebody had hit the power line. In a candlelight celebration, the Deputies ceremoniously burned the President's resignation in a silver urn.

Did St. Cyr-trained Chehab really long so badly for the Riviera? Fellow officers recalled that, as a general, he had more than once "resigned" to get his way. Now he seemed in no hurry to appoint Salam to the coveted premiership. And after last week's rousing demonstration, every Lebanese politician knew that, whoever the Premier and whoever the Cabinet members. Fuad Chehab had proved that he was the country's indispensable man.

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