Where Roots of Violence Grow

By James Kelly

In the Israeli-occupied south, Shi'ite resentment runs deep

On the same morning that an explosion shattered the U.S. embassy annex on the outskirts of East Beirut, another act of terror was being carried out 29 miles away in Israeli-occupied southern Lebanon. In the small Shi'ite Muslim village of Suh-mur, 13 people were murdered by militiamen of the Christian-dominated Army of Southern Lebanon, apparently in retaliation for the earlier killing of four of its soldiers.

The slayings were just another episode in what has become almost routine violence in the southern third of Lebanon, where the largely Shi'ite Muslim population's resentment of both the Israelis and the Christian militia grows by the day. It is an area that has bred small cells of violent fanatics, including, Israeli officials say, adherents of the Islamic Jihad, or Islamic Holy War, who claimed responsibility for the embassy bombing. The mounting tension between the occupying Israelis and the Shi'ite population was emphasized by Israeli Defense Minister Yitzhak Rabin last week when he said, "Any permanent Israel Defense Forces presence in southern Lebanon constitutes a time bomb."

More than two years after the Israeli invasion of Lebanon, some 22,000 Israeli troops remain in southern Lebanon. Their purpose: to keep Palestine Liberation Organization fighters from filtering back and posing a fresh threat to Israel's northern border towns and settlements. But since the Israeli army in Lebanon withdrew from the Beirut area south to the Awali River a year ago, 60 soldiers have been killed and 469 wounded in Lebanese attacks. Every month brings about 70 to 80 new assaults. "We are on a spiral to nowhere," says a prominent Sidon citizen. "The more the Israelis are attacked, the more repressive they become, and that only leads to more desperation and attacks."

As a result, southern Lebanon is growing increasingly isolated from the rest of the country, a fact that is starkly obvious at the main Israeli checkpoint, near the Lebanese village of Batir al Chouf. Every day the roadway teems with hundreds seeking passage between southern Lebanon and the north. Israeli sentries separate the men from the women, then methodically inspect baggage and examine papers.

In an effort to clamp down on arms smuggling, the Israeli army has further restricted access to and from the south. Travelers heading in either direction must first obtain permits from an Israeli office in the south. Beirutis wishing to visit the occupied area must ask relatives or friends living in the south to obtain the documents for them. The rules sometimes discriminate: Muslims are forced to travel through the mobbed Batir checkpoint, whereas Christians can take a ferry from Jiyah, north of Sidon, to East Beirut. What used to be a 40-minute taxi ride between Beirut and Sidon is now a journey that takes hours, even days.

Israeli Prime Minister Shimon Peres would like to pull his troops out of Lebanon. Apart from the mounting casualties, the occupation costs financially strapped Israel $1.2 million a day. What prevents the Israelis from leaving is what plagues Lebanon itself: the lack of a strong central government in Beirut that could bring order to the country. Though Peres admitted last week that withdrawal remains "several months" away, other officials estimate that the pullback will not take place before next summer.

The ambushes and bombings against the Israeli army are the work of only a few hundred Shi'ites. But they enjoy the passive support of much of the population, especially in the impoverished farming villages. In southern Lebanese villages like Marakah, for example, a call to arms is frequently broadcast from mosques. "Kill the Israelis! Death to the invaders!" loudspeakers intone. Israeli troops dare to enter some villages only in force, and their armored cars and Jeeps bristling with machine guns are inevitably greeted by jeers from women and children.

The Israeli army responds by lowering its profile in trouble spots and literally digging in deeper behind fortified embankments. The army relies increasingly on Shin Bet, the Israeli security service, to do plainclothes surveillance and cultivate informers.

Ultimately, the Israelis hope to turn over the region to the Army of Southern Lebanon, the militia founded by Major Saad Haddad. After Haddad died of cancer last January, the command was taken over by General Antoine Lahd, 55, a Maronite Christian who had served for years in the regular Lebanese Army. Lahd oversees a 2,100-strong force, trained and supplied by the Israelis, but he admitted to TIME that he would probably need at least 5,000 men to police southern Lebanon effectively. Recruitment is slow: only 128 Lebanese signed up for the latest five-week training course.

Peres may eventually have little choice but to accept the advice once bandied about Washington during the mire of Viet Nam, namely to declare victory and withdraw. When that happens, the Israelis are likely to leave behind an unfortunate legacy of their occupation of southern Lebanon: a population more alienated than ever before from its neighbor to the south.

--By James Kelly.

Reported by John Borrell/Sidon and Harry Kelly/Batir

With reporting by John Borrell/Sidon, Harry Kelly/Batir