When Stalemate Is Not an Option

Ghanem's death—like so many others in recent years—had all the chilling hallmarks of a professional assassination. The lawmaker had returned to Lebanon only a few days earlier after seeking refuge abroad for some time. According to fellow legislator and current candidate for president Butros Harb, the rental car that exploded and killed Ghanem on Wednesday had been driven out of the lot only 30 minutes before it went up in flames. "It was not a route he takes every day," Harb says. "They knew where he was going. I think the assassination aimed to destroy the initiative of the speaker."

Still, Harb—like Ghanem, a member of the pro-Western parliamentary majority— expresses optimism about the parliamentary effort to find a compromise candidate. "I think [the compromise initiative] will continue. The process should not stop. If we stop, the killers succeeded … And I encourage the speaker to continue."

For his part, though, former President Amine Gemayel is dismissive of the Berri-led compromise initiative. "What does it mean, 'compromise,' when the negotiations are written in the color of blood?" he asks. "Unfortunately, until now we haven't heard any strong voices in the opposition objecting to these assassinations or blaming the assassins."

While that's not strictly true—Hizbullah has denounced this and every other recent assassination—Gemayel's point is that, all sound bites aside, final accountability is rarely assigned for these killings. He should know. Gemayel himself inherited Lebanon's presidency in 1982 after his older brother was assassinated. More recently his politician son Pierre was gunned down, last winter. Another key player, former general Michel Aoun, is keeping his cards close to his vest. In a statement released by his press office, Hizbullah's chief Christian ally called for "the consolidation of our national unity" in the wake of Ghanem's assassination.

The "national unity" phrase has become a sad—and largely meaningless—cliché in Lebanon's bloody history. And certainly several recent forecasts predicting decisive change in Lebanon have not been realized. At first the Cedar Revolution—the civic mobilization following the assassination of former premier Rafik Hariri—seemed poised to run the table after forcing Syria's withdrawal in 2005. But almost as soon as that goal was achieved, the management skills of the governing majority were quickly overwhelmed by the efficient opposition of pro-Hizbullah forces, the confusion fostered by an extended campaign of bombings that continued even after Syria's pullout, as well as the political inexperience of Hariri's son, who was recruited to head up the majority bloc in parliament.

Likewise, fresh from the boost it got in last summer's war with Israel, Hizbullah seemed poised to shake the Western-friendly government from its delicate perch atop the famous Lebanese cedar tree. But 10 months later the massive tent protests and a shutdown of Beirut's central district have failed to dislodge Prime Minister Fouad Siniora—or make him repent for his open collaboration with Western powers.