Still Sitting on a Tinderbox

Nature completed what man began in Beirut last week. A khamsin, the seasonal wind from the desert, blew clouds of choking yellow dust into the tortured city, and between them, the storm and new political maneuvers brought an end to renewed fighting between leftists and rightists. Before the battles tapered off and an "armed truce" was reinstated, however, some 200 people had been killed in a single day in wild artillery and mortar duels. In one more senseless scene from a year long tragedy, three mortar rounds fell on a crowd of women shoppers and their children in West Beirut, killing seven and wounding 25.

The shaky cease-fire shifted attention back to Lebanon's complicated political situation, which was about as impenetrable as the khamsin. Parliament in a hasty session had ratified a constitutional amendment authorizing early election of a new President to succeed Suleiman Franjieh, and the stubborn Maronite Christian Chief Executive finally agreed to step down. His successor must be one on whom all factions can agree, and one, moreover, acceptable to neighboring Syria. That might boost the chances of Elias Sarkis, quiet governor of Lebanon's central bank, while dampening those of Centrist Raymond Edde, an outspokenly antiright wing and anti-Syrian parliamentarian.

To head off more shooting, Syria last week put increased military and political pressure on its troubled neighbor. At least 3,000 Syrian troops were reported in Lebanon, along with 7,000 fighters of the Damascus-controlled Saiqa fedayeen movement. Syrian tanks and antiaircraft "flak tracks" dug in three miles across the border, and armored cars probed as far as the Lebanon mountains overlooking Beirut. Curiously, it is Lebanon's Christians--not the Moslems--who welcome the Syrian incursion; they believe that the Syrians will forge a peaceful settlement.

In Damascus, President Hafez Assad, in explanation of the Syrian moves, told a Baathist meeting that his troops had taken "a firm stand to oppose any party that insists on continuing the war." His remarks were aimed at leftist Moslem Leader Kamal Jumblatt, who had accused Syria of invading Lebanon and sent demonstrators into the streets of Tyre and Saida with banners that read: SAVE THE SYRIAN ARMY FOR THE CONFRONTATION WITH ISRAEL.

The shouting match between "brotherly" Moslems disturbed onlookers. In Washington, Secretary of State Kissinger told Congress that "we have been walking through a mine field here." He added: "The Syrian military efforts are getting very close to the borderline" of Israeli tolerance. In Jerusalem, Premier Yitzhak Rabin had a different borderline in mind. He warned that Israel had marked out a "red line" beyond which Syrian forces could not move. Although Rabin refused to pinpoint the line, military observers judged it to be the Litani River, running south and west through southern Lebanon. "If they bring in flak and missiles and get close to the Israeli border," said a Western diplomat in Beirut, "the Israelis will likely do something about it." Agreed another: "We are sitting on a tinderbox."

Shared Optimism. Seeking to defuse the situation, Palestinian Leader Yasser Arafat assumed the unwanted role of peacemaker. Arafat's Palestine Liberation Organization sides with Jumblatt against the anti-Palestinian Lebanese right. But Arafat needs Lebanon for his bases and is not anxious to defy Assad's command to stop fighting; the P.L.O. obviously does not want to repeat the "Black September" of 1970, when they defied King Hussein and were thrown out of Jordan by the King's army. Arafat paid a visit to Damascus for an all-night session with the nocturnal Syrian President. Arafat returned to Beirut with a seven-point agreement, calling among other things for an end to fighting, the election of a new President and the re-establishment of a mixed armistice commission to make peace. He met with Jumblatt, who accepted, but only grudgingly, since Assad conceded nothing.

At week's end the political storm eased, as did the khamsin, and a speck of hope filtered over the scene. Some observers shared the optimism of Henry Kissinger. "For the first time, it is possible to see the outline of a political settlement in Lebanon," he said as he pledged U.S. participation in an international consortium to help rebuild Lebanon. But such hope was necessarily tentative. After 24 cease-fires and endless rounds of fruitless discussion, Lebanon's volatile problems were far from settled.

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