Nearly 35 years ago, the last chapter of the Lebanese war abruptly and somewhat foolishly closed with the entry of Syrian troops into the Baabda Palace, followed by the predictable departure of General Michel Aoun to his Parisian exile.
Many had warned him of this inevitable outcome, urging him to do what was necessary to save what could still be saved, but all attempts in this direction were in vain. The sequence was to close fifteen years of fighting, killings, kidnappings, attacks, bombings, invasions, petty wars, sterile standoffs, and absurdities of all kinds, while it inaugurated fifteen years of relentless domination by the Assad regime over Lebanon, the country of the cedars.
One of the first acts of this tutelage and the authorities dependent on it was to have Lebanese deputies pass an amnesty law covering war crimes. In reality, it is appropriate to speak here of a law of "amnesia" since it was not a question of identifying suspects, pardoning their misdeeds and designating the guilty.
No, it was more about maintaining ambiguity over events and the responsibilities of the parties involved, to block any documentation and memory work that could have ultimately contributed to writing a more or less unified and peaceful history of the conflict, and to collectively understanding its causes and learning from them. In this way, an era filled with the clatter of arms was followed by a time of sealed lips and paths mapped out by the puppet master from Damascus.
On April 26, 2005, Hafez al-Assad's army sheepishly withdrew from Lebanon; not as a result of a military defeat, but rather due to a political slap administered by a huge coalition gathering nearly two-thirds of the Lebanese people and benefiting from the active support of the international community. This earthquake occurred 71 days after the attack that claimed the life of Rafik Hariri, the man who believed he could emancipate his country by transforming the Syrian regime rather than confronting it; and 43 days after the gigantic demonstration on March 14, the largest in Lebanon's history, under the slogan "Syria out."
Could these events have been an opportunity for a wake-up call allowing Lebanese to finally establish an inventory of their war and to heal definitively? This was without taking into account the country's traditional bad political practices, which very quickly made people lose their bearings; but also and above all the attitude of the remaining third (Shiite) of Lebanese, who were still in a time of war and would remain there until at least Nov. 27, 2024...
Today, half a century after the double incident at Ain al-Rummaneh (one marking the inauguration ceremony of a church, sometimes forgotten, and the Palestinian bus incident), where are we exactly? Well, in the same place, so to speak!
Of course, many things, fundamental data, not to mention the general context, have changed in the meantime. Let's name at least three: driven particularly by political Harirism, the Sunni community is the one that has traveled the longest distance, moving from a latent rejection of Lebanese entity to a more or less frank adherence to the "Lebanon first" concept; Christians and Druze appear strongly attached to their reconciliation sealed in 2001 (except for some "grave diggers," as the accepted Lebanese expression goes); and Lebanon has long ceased to be the privileged playground for inter-Arab score-settling. Still, the absence of memory work, synonymous with institutional stagnation on one side, and on the other, Lebanon’s long satellization by Iran and the deep and often unspoken disagreements on managing the conflict with Israel, act as hibernation factors.
But this observation should not lead to falling into deep pessimism. The geopolitical developments of recent months rekindle hope, even though the Lebanese are far from being the actors of the changes that have occurred. If they seize the open opportunity, they will finally enter the time of peace.