Notwithstanding periodic clashes, the 18 religious communities that make up Lebanon lived in relative harmony for millennia, despite a post-independence convoluted political system that barely passed for one.
Periodically, the hapless Lebanese were reminded that the time was long overdue for a makeover of the 1943 National Pact, perhaps through the application of the 1989 Taif Accords and, eventually, with appropriate amendments to the Constitution.
Surprisingly, the Maronite Patriarch Bisharah Rai immersed himself into this conversation immediately after his election last March, even if the task went beyond the patriarchal writ.
His latest inappropriate declarations — on matters with little ecclesiastical concerns — essentially meant that few would now listen. Even fewer were ready to pay attention to the call for a key new compact without which the Lebanese cannot find peace.
Because of serious developments in neighbouring Syria, where President Bashar Al Assad faces unprecedented opposition, chances were excellent that this storm would blow into Lebanon before long.
The UN Special Coordinator for Lebanon, Michael Williams, opined a few days ago that Beirut was not immune to upheavals and that religious clashes in Syria could easily spill over.
“There are particularly difficult outcomes [from events in Syria],” he declared, asking how Beirut might deal with putative Sunni attacks against Alawites or against Christians.
The soft-spoken Williams believed that the key to avoiding sectarian conflicts in the Levant region was not with Al Assad staying in power; that, to put it mildly, was a shocker coming from a UN official.
It was within this context that Rai’s comments on the Syrian uprising, uttered in France of all places, were truly troubling. The affable clergyman wondered whether a Sunni-Alawite civil war was in the making and concluded that such an outcome would be genocidal.
Religious angle
He wondered whether the region was “heading toward a division of Syria into sectarian mini-states”, and warned “the international community and France … not to rush into resolutions that strive to change regimes”.
To say that Rai feared for Syria’s Christians would be an understatement even if the Melkite Greek Catholic Bishop Gregory III Laham or the Greek Orthodox Patriarch Ignatius IV Hazim, had the good Christian sense not to laud the killing of men, women and children — no matter their religious affiliations.
There was no doubt that minorities in general and Christians in particular were treated well under the Alawite-dominated regime, though the Christian presence in Syria predated Islam, the Baath party and the Al Assad regime.
For over 1,400 years, Sunnis lived harmoniously with their Christian neighbours and it may be useful to remember that Sunnis welcomed and protected Armenian survivors after the 1915 massacres, perpetrated by Ottoman Turks.
In Dayr Zor, Kesab, Jisr Al Shugur, Aleppo, Damascus and elsewhere, long before survivors reached Lebanon, Armenian refugees were literally cared for by Syrian Muslims.
To now claim, as Rai did, that the Al Assad government was preventing a “genocide” was infantile. In fact, the unrest in Syria may lead to a bloody civil war but that would not be confessional in nature or substance, for the disputes were not religious.
Simply stated, what was at stake was a classic power struggle between an ossified regime that behaved just like its communist counterpart in the defunct Soviet Union — where adulation of the great leader led to blasphemy — and a population hungry for freedom.
Even if immensely awkward, Rai probably intended to champion his community’s significantly weakened position in Lebanon, by enlarging his concerns to cover other Christians.
Yet, uttering ill-advised statements on the Taif Accords — shamelessly asserting that the agreements included “flaws and [needed] to be reformed”— were tangential, since the clergyman knew that Taif was not implemented.
Even worse, his call for a fresh compact to the 1943 understanding was dealt a blow, especially as he granted Hezbollah, which mercifully did not represent the entire Shiite community, unnecessary privileges at the expense of the legitimate state.
Indeed, for any pact to be effective required rough equality among all adherents, both to carry weight and not be subjected to the vagaries of the moment.
Instead, Rai added fuel to the dormant sectarian fire in Lebanon, unaware that the Muslim demographic majority stripped the Maronite community from heretofore primus inter pares rights.
Though neither the patriarch nor secular Maronite leaders were ready for a full dismemberment of the country’s confessional system, their survival and prosperity in the Arab and Muslim worlds was best guaranteed through democracy.
To be sure, a non-confessional system was a worthy goal to finally free the Lebanese from their straitjackets, even if such a desired outcome remained some years off, chiefly for geographical reasons.
Were Lebanon located between Norway and Sweden, or between California and Oregon, its citizens would have updated their political pact a long time ago. ‘Caught’ between Israel and Syria, Lebanon was a natural hostage to competing forces that did not wish it to enjoy liberty.
Ironically, Lebanon is one of the few countries around the world where the clergy immerses itself in politics rather than matters that related to their business.
After his election, Rai summarised his motto as “partnership and love” among all Lebanese, though he may be advised to add freedom and liberty to his ecclesiastical list, for any future alliance to last.
Dr Joseph A. Kechichian is a commentator and author of several books on Gulf affairs.
