Deal more a respite than a resolution
Beirut: The agreement on Wednesday to end an 18-month crisis that brought Lebanon to the brink of civil war has redrawn the political map of this fractious country, delivering the Hezbollah a decisive say in the country's government and serving as another setback for US allies in the Middle East.
But the deal, reached in five days of negotiations in Qatar, was more a respite than a resolution to a crisis that has cut across issues fundamental to the country's destiny: the power of the Shiite community, the country's single largest; the posture toward Israel; and the influence of foreign patrons, Syria, Iran, the United States or Saudi Arabia, in Lebanese affairs.
Even before they returned home, leaders began looking toward parliamentary elections next year that are almost sure to guarantee power to the same feuding, sectarian factions, with the same issues unresolved: the status of Hezbollah's weapons and the tendency for Lebanon to serve as an arena for proxy battles in regional struggles.
"One can see this as a long truce. I hope it will last as long as it can because we're fed up with civil war," said Elias Khoury, a columnist and author.
Government leaders acknowledged making compromises but justified them as essential to averting a civil war. In effect, however, they met the very demands that Hezbollah and its allies, the Amal Movement and followers of Michel Aoun, a Maronite Christian and former general, had made in 2006 after the group emerged from war with Israel: veto power in the Cabinet and what Hezbollah called a government of national unity.
Hezbollah and its allies, angry over government decisions that targeted the group, deployed fighters in predominantly Muslim West Beirut a week and a half ago, routing militiamen loyal to the government in just hours. The fighters' success created a new equation of power here. Hezbollah was adamant in its insistence that its weapons would not be dealt with in the negotiations that followed in Qatar.
They were brought up. But in the end, the communique settled for a vague admonition that groups "pledged to refrain" from taking up weapons to settle disputes and that the "use of arms or violence is forbidden to settle political differences".
Sa'ad Hariri, who inherited the mantle of Sunni leadership from his slain father, former prime minister Rafik Hariri, seemed to acknowledge that he and his allies were forced to settle for less. "The wound is deep, my wound is deep, but we will get over it," he said in an interview in Qatar's capital, Doha, before returning with others to Beirut on Wednesday evening. Syria and Iran, Hezbollah's allies, quickly endorsed the deal. The United States gave cautious support.
Silent optimism
Across Beirut, residents were quick to invest a resilient optimism in the deal, even if they acknowledged that the crisis probably wasn't settled.
To some, it meant averting a civil war that was almost realised this month as well as a welcome break from a series of near-continuous crises that began with the assassination of Rafik Hariri in 2005 and war with Israel in 2006.
"If they didn't agree, we were headed for destruction," said Nour Shama'a, owner of a downtown boutique.
"If someone says they won, they are mindless," said Ali Hussain, a 46-year-old mechanic in Tarik Jdeideh, an ardently Sunni area. "You won? How did you win? Tell me. They killed us, we killed them. They're still here, and we're still here."
In the talks Hezbollah and its allies won their demand for smaller constituencies that may bolster their number of seats, which are divided along sectarian lines among Lebanon's 18 religious communities.
But they conceded a division of Beirut that will probably help Sa'ad Hariri and his allies. In effect, the law means that the leaders gathered in Doha will almost assuredly preserve their power in the next parliament.
If someone says they won, they are mindless. You won? How did you win? Tell me. They killed us, we killed them. They're still here, and we're still here."