On the Edge of Collapse

ROCK BOTTOM AGAIN, wailed the headline on Beirut's Daily Star one day last week. The paper was announcing the collapse of Lebanon's Cease Fire No. 12, which had kept political and sectarian violence down for most of the past month. Over the Independence Day weekend -- normally a time of parties, parades and speeches praising the country's ethnic harmony -- rival militias fought rocket, mortar and machine-gun battles along the front dividing Beirut's Moslem and Christian communities. Hundreds of kidnapings were reported by both sides. At week's end the fighting, which spilled over into the downtown banking and hotel district, had claimed more than 100 lives, bringing the eight-month death toll to more than 4,000. (Lebanon's population is only 3 million. It is as though the U.S. had suffered 250,000 deaths in a civil war.) "We cannot stand any more fighting," said Lebanon's almost despairing Moslem Premier, Rashid Karami. "The country is on the brink of collapse."

Private Militias. As the shooting flared up, so did the simmering political battle between leftists and rightists, Moslems and Christians within Karami's six-month-old "rescue government." An emergency meeting of the National Dialogue Committee broke up after 30 minutes because neither Maronite-Christian Interior Minister Camille Chamoun nor Druze Leftist Leader Kamal Jumblatt showed up. Both men control private militias, which were locked in street battle at the time of the meeting. Karami, infuriated by his Interior Minister's boycott of the meeting, complained that he was "incapable of returning the situation to normal because the guardian of the premises is also their thief."

By week's end the violence in Beirut had tapered off to occasional skirmishing and sniping. It was heavy rains, however, rather than a spirit of conciliation that had dampened the fighting ardor of gunmen, who roamed the streets carrying an umbrella in one hand and a rifle in the other. The lull coincided with end-of-the-month anticipation of paychecks, a time when many street fighters have a personal interest in maintaining at least enough order for banks to reopen.

Political squabbling also subsided, and on Saturday Karami announced that Moslem and Christian government leaders had agreed to seek changes in the distribution of power within Lebanon. Under the existing political system, Lebanon's 40% Christian minority dominates both the military and the government. Karami said that his six-man Cabinet would be expanded to make it more representative of the country's varied ethnic makeup. No other specific reforms were promised, but the Premier did say that the constitution would be modified to redistribute the "national wealth among citizens" and that political changes would be introduced to "ensure the necessary adaptation with the requirements of a modern society." Leaders from the vast Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon will be included in negotiations over the proposed changes.

Despite Karami's promising announcement, there was only a cautious hope for change in the irregular rhythms of chaos and calm that have already made Karami's fears of social disintegration a reality. An estimated two-thirds of the country's normal gross national product has been lost during the past eight months' fighting. Most of the foreign businesses that were based in Beirut have departed, leaving nearly 100,000 people unemployed. Even in affluent areas of Beirut, the sight of children scavenging in garbage cans for food has become common, and looting is becoming a way of life for many adults. Moving vans taking foreigners' belongings out of the country now carry armed guards, and ministers are chauffeured to Parliament meetings in armored cars.

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