Lebanon's Challenging Legacy

By Thomas A. Sancton

Perils and opportunity in the wake of the Israeli invasion

As U.S. Negotiator Philip Habib continued his peace efforts last week after Israel's furious bombardments of West Beirut, the precise nature of a settlement still remained uncertain. But one thing was clear: Israel's ten-week-old invasion of Lebanon had wrought momentous changes in the complex Middle East equation, and their repercussions would be felt for years to come. Every major actor in the drama has been deeply affected. For the U.S., the crisis provoked by its headstrong Israeli ally has presented grave risks but also a challenging opportunity to play a key role in forging a comprehensive Middle East peace.

To a large degree, the chances for such a peace depend on the future of the P.L.O. The Israeli strategy, as directed by Defense Minister Ariel Sharon, called for crushing all P.L.O. military and political influence. Indeed many Israeli observers were ready last week to declare the P.L.O. dead and buried even before the guerrillas evacuated Beirut.

The Palestinians refused to acknowledge such a crushing defeat. As Issam Sartawi, an adviser to P.L.O. Chief Yasser Arafat, puts it: "We have learned the hard way how to transfer our military battle into a political victory. Regardless of what happens in Beirut, we shall get out of it stronger than we were." There was doubtless a strong measure of wishful thinking in that assessment, but many observers felt that the P.L.O. might realize political and diplomatic gains that the Israelis had hardly intended to promote when they stormed across the Lebanese border on June 6. Said Harvard University Professor Stanley Hoffmann: "The P.L.O. is politically better off than ever before."

The outgunned Palestinians could boast that they had made a credible showing by resisting the Israelis inch by inch once the battle took to the streets of Beirut. By contrast, the combined armies of Syria, Jordan and Egypt crumbled before the Israelis after only six days in 1967. The siege has therefore boosted the popular stock of the P.L.O. in the Arab world. Although most of the Arab governments probably wanted to see the troublesome P.L.O. cut down to size militarily in the early phases of the invasion, none desired an outright defeat. In the past month, there has been a grudging resurgence of Arab support, if for no other reason than self-interest: the Palestinian issue has long been a litmus test of Arab nationalism, and no regime that wishes to stay in power can afford to ignore it.

Some experts on the Middle East see the possibility of serious Palestinian reprisals against the Arab nations for their failure to aid the P.L.O. earlier. Warns the P.L.O.'s Sartawi: "The Palestinians will not easily forget the extent to which they were deserted on this occasion." It was partly to assuage such bitterness that the Syrians last week reversed themselves and agreed to accept some of the P.L.O. guerrillas from Lebanon. (Other countries willing to take in the P.L.O.: Jordan, Iraq, Tunisia, Algeria, North Yemen, South Yemen and the Sudan.)

How the P.L.O. behaves once out of Beirut will have a powerful impact on the whole future of the Middle East. Some analysts predict that the frustrated and fragmented group will turn again to terrorism. Others feel that the very act of surviving the Israeli onslaught strengthened the relatively moderate tendencies represented by P.L.O. Leader Arafat, who emerges from the siege as a kind of Palestinian hero. A more moderate P.L.O., it is argued, might seek to win its own political legitimacy and increase its international backing by finally recognizing Israel's right to exist. Predicts Leonard Beigel, a Middle East expert at the University of Amsterdam: "In the months to come, the P.L.O. leadership will be making statements in this direction. And with the Americans, and all international opinion, more favorable to the P.L.O. now, this will make Israel's refusal to talk with the P.L.O. all the more difficult."

For Israel's Prime Minister Menachem Begin, recognition by the P.L.O. would bring special hazards, since it would fulfill the main demand the U.S. has made as a precondition for talks with the Palestinians. Says American University Professor Amos Perlmutter: "Israel's greatest fear is to have the U.S. deal with the P.L.O. If the U.S. plays the Palestine card, it would make political defeat out of Begin's war." Indeed, one of the Israeli aims in the invasion was to destroy the P.L.O.'s influence throughout the region, thereby allowing Jerusalem to negotiate a watered-down autonomy agreement with "moderate" Palestinian elements in the West Bank and Gaza. That, according to the Begin-Sharon strategy, would curb demands for a Palestinian state and allow Israel to maintain its military control over the occupied territories. Begin's aim is not just to enhance Israel's security but to make irreversible the absorption of the West Bank and Gaza into his vision of Eretz Yisrael, or the biblical land of Israel. That goal, backed up by Begin's aggressive settlements policy, has long been one of the main obstacles to the peace process.

Far from promoting Israeli flexibility, the Lebanon invasion has confirmed the Begin government in what was already becoming one of its articles of faith: that in the final analysis, it is massive military might that will allow Israel to survive and pursue its interests. This militarization of Israel's goals and policies is not only an unfortunate cheapening of the country's original Zionist dream of being a "light unto nations"; it is also a dangerous source of conflict in a volatile region. Ultimately it weakens the fragile bonds that hold the Middle East together and deepens Israel's isolation.

Despite its damage to Israel's image abroad (see box), Begin's blitzkrieg has dramatically boosted the government's domestic support. A PORI Institute poll taken in the third week of July showed that Begin's approval rating had leaped from 47.7% at the war's outset to 57.6%. Sharon's had risen from 48.9% to 56.6%. To be sure, a growing minority of Israelis have expressed reservations about the invasion. Last week 2,000 army reservists sent Begin a petition calling on him not to order an invasion of West Beirut. The Peace Now organization has attracted several thousand people to antiwar rallies. Yet the level of public dissent poses no political threat to Begin's increasingly well-entrenched Likud coalition.

One of the key remaining problems is piecing together a strong central Lebanese government and arranging for the withdrawal of Israeli and Syrian troops from the country. The Israelis would like to see a central government controlled by their Christian allies, and are therefore hoping that Christian Lebanese Forces Leader Bashir Gemayel, 35, will win the presidential elections that must take place by Sept. 15. In the Israelis' view, such a regime would promote stability, keep the leftist Arab elements in check and prevent a Palestinian threat from returning to their border. But the idea of a strong central government may prove to be a chimera: Lebanese society has always been a patchwork of different feudal, regional and religious communities whose rivalries have sparked internecine clashes for generations. The departure of the P.L.O. will not change that pattern. Moreover, many observers in Beirut fear that the election of Gemayel, whose Christian supporters constitute a minority of Lebanon's population, would bring about a renewal of the civil war between Christians and Muslims.

The quest for Lebanese independence may prove equally illusory. For Syrian President Hafez Assad, whose prestige was shaken by his army's poor showing against the Israelis, maintaining a presence in the Bekaa Valley would provide a buffer against any future Israeli advances toward Syria. It would also give Hafez Assad a larger role in the Arab world. "As long as Assad has a foot in Lebanon, he is an Arab leader," says American University's Perlmutter. "Without it, he isn't." The Israelis, who want to avoid the quagmire of an extended occupation, might nonetheless use their presence as a bargaining card to get the Syrians out. The result may be a standoff in which both sides refuse to leave Lebanon first. That could ultimately lead to a de facto partitioning of Lebanon into Israeli and Syrian spheres. Observes one Middle East expert in Washington: "This would be a sad commentary indeed if, after they suffered umpteen civilian casualties, we could do nothing better by the Lebanese."

For the rest of the Arab world, the disarray caused by the Lebanese invasion could lead to a significant realignment of forces. Because of his consistent criticism of the Israeli action, Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak did much to redeem his country in the eyes of fellow Arabs. Moreover, Mubarak has developed an increasingly close relationship with Saudi Arabia, forming an axis of wealth and population. Together those moderate states could dominate the Arab world.

But Mubarak's gain in stature has been accompanied by a toughening approach toward Israel, the U.S. and the Camp David peace process. Vows a senior Egyptian official: "Egypt will not participate in the Palestinian autonomy talks again until the complete withdrawal from Lebanon by Israel." Pushed by a rising tide of anti-American and anti-Israeli popular sentiment, Mubarak is determined to win real concessions in exchange for future cooperation. Says a Western diplomat in Cairo: "He is consumed with the need to keep ahead of his domestic critics and be viewed in Egyptian opinion as doing his utmost."

The more radical states, such as Libya, Syria, Algeria and South Yemen, have lost prestige in the Arab world as a result of their failure to aid the Palestinians. Says Peter Duignan, a senior fellow at Stanford's Hoover Institution: "The image of Arabs standing together has been shattered." The Iraqis were particularly angry at Syria's Hafez Assad and Libya's Strongman Muammar Gaddafi, both for their "betrayal" of the P.L.O. and for their support of Iran in the gulf war. Since that conflict began 23 months ago, Iraqi President Saddam Hussein has moved away from the hard-line states and into the circle of moderate states, which includes Saudi Arabia and Jordan.

It is Jordan, perhaps, that faces the greatest danger from the new alignment of Middle East forces. King Hussein, a memher of the Hashemite dynasty,* presides uneasily over a population that is 60% Palestinian. In deference to that predominant group, Hussein has agreed to accept some 1,500 P.L.O. members who hold Jordanian passports. But the King cannot be enthusiastic about the return of a guerrilla group that he brutally attacked and ousted from Jordan in 1971 after some of its factions tried to overthrow his government. Nor can Hussein be reassured by the knowledge that Israel's Sharon has long argued for allowing the Palestinians in Jordan to topple the Hashemite dynasty and thus satisfy demands for a Palestinian state at no expense to Israel.

One clear loser in the latest Middle East shuffle is the Soviet Union. Not only was Moscow's military hardware outclassed on the battlefield by American-made Israeli arms, but the Soviets' much touted alliances with Syria and the P.L.O. produced little more than rhetoric. The Soviets' conduct also cast doubt on the widely held assumption that they were spoiling for a chance to put their supposed military superiority to a test in a showdown with the U.S. When the opportunity presented itself in Lebanon, Moscow bunked.

Caught in the middle of this maelstrom was the U.S., which was all too often swept along by the storm. Many foreign policy experts scathingly criticize the Reagan Administration's handling of the crisis. Former U.S. Under Secretary of State George Ball blames the Administration for failing to pressure both sides into making concessions. Says Ball: "Instead of trying to exact any commitment from the Israelis, we foolishly concentrated solely on getting the P.L.O. to leave. In other words, we pulled the Israeli chestnuts out of the fire for nothing." Ball argues that the U.S. image in the world has suffered from association with the Israeli war effort. Sol Linowitz, President Jimmy Carter's special envoy to the Middle East, agrees with that assessment. Says he: "The crisis has created the widespread impression in the Arab world that we countenanced or even encouraged this Israeli action."

Yet Linowitz and others believe that the U.S. still has a rare opportunity for creative diplomacy if it can produce a comprehensive peace initiative that would address both Palestinian and Israeli concerns. "What we need to do," says Linowitz, conveying a sense of urgency, "is exercise real leadership and get the parties back to the negotiating table and deal with the issues that are unresolved and get them done." Linowitz suggests using the Camp David accords as the basis for a broader agreement and, above all, appointing a special U.S. negotiator who can speak for the President.

Whatever form such a process might take, Washington must play a pivotal role. The U.S. is the only country that has the combination of prestige, power and trust to deal with all parties. The Reagan Administration has in fact been working on some long-term peace plans. Shortly after taking office last month, Secretary of State George Shultz began a series of consultations with foreign policy experts and launched a full-scale review of Middle East policy. No decisions have been made yet, however, and some observers feel that Shultz is dragging his feet.

One widely circulated position paper calls for using the "momentum" of P.L.O. withdrawal to revive the moribund Camp David autonomy talks. The idea--similar to ex-Secretary of State Alexander Haig's earlier view of the opportunities presented by the Lebanese crisis--is to use the reordering of the P.L.O. to bring moderate Arab countries like Jordan and Saudi Arabia into a broadened Camp David process. In negotiations that would possibly include Palestinians themselves, these moderate Arab states would work out a peace settlement that would bear a closer resemblance to the Palestinians' demand for a homeland than to Israel's notion of limited autonomy. With such an agreement in hand, the U.S.-Arab phalanx would turn to Israel and press Begin's government to agree as well.

Such a plan would be the first U.S. initiative to deal specifically with the ultimate fate of the Palestinians. The question the Reagan Administration is trying to answer, as one U.S. official told TIME Correspondent Johanna McGeary last week, is "how to take advantage of our new leverage with these [Middle East] countries to achieve a breakthrough."

That leverage should not be exaggerated. After all, the invasion has increased anti-American feeling among all the Arab nations and left most of their leaders with the suspicion that the U.S. will never be willing or able to curb Israeli excesses. As for Israel, there is little reason to believe in a fundamental policy change as long as Menachem Begin, obsessed as he is with Eretz Yisrael, remains Prime Minister. Says Perlmutter flatly: "Begin will not budge on the West Bank--not in his lifetime."

Whatever course Washington follows, therefore, it is likely to court continued confrontation with its troublesome ally. "To make any progress in the Mideast," sums up William Quandt, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution, "the U.S. will need steely nerves, an unshakable grasp of its own interests, and a firm sense that the goal is worth it--knowing all along that any solutions will ensure a major crisis in U.S.-Israeli relations." Whether or not that crisis does erupt, the Reagan Administration must show far more courage and determination in dealing with Begin than it has done in the past. It is not a time for weakness.

-- By Thomas A. Sancton.

Reported by David Aikman/ Jerusalem and William Stewart/ Beirut

* Descendants of Hashem, a great-grandfather of the Prophet Muhammad.

With reporting by DAVID AIKMAN, William Stewart

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