New Red Lines For Lebanon

Conversely, Prime Minister Barak could reasonably claim success in defeat. The Israeli retreat, originally planned for July 7, was messy and haphazard. In several cases, Israeli weapons (including some tanks) were abandoned in the rush to get out. But no Israeli soldiers were killed during the pull-back. More significantly, perhaps, they withdrew to a morally defensible position, from where they were better able to fight if the need arose.

The real battle in Lebanon, in any case, was never really with the Lebanese. It was primarily with the Palestinians, Syria and Iran. (Tellingly, Iranian Foreign Minister Kamal Kharrazi rushed to Lebanon last week to offer his congratulations.) Lebanon was just a convenient place to carry on a proxy war. Israel and Syria, in particular, have bled each other here, while keeping their home turf secure: no shot has been fired in anger across the Syrian-Israeli frontier since 1973.

For much of the last quarter century, the Lebanese all too willingly participated in their own ruin. One question now is whether, when the joy subsides, the Lebanese can live with each other. "The biggest challenge we are facing is how to deal with the younger generation," says Hussein Darwish, a grey-bearded villager who was sitting under a cedar tree in south Lebanon one day last week. "We have to make them work together, and live together, without these religious parties trying to stir things up."

Not far down the road, two guards from the Shiite Amal militia were guarding the already trashed home of Christian Lebanese Maj. Gen. Antoine Lahad, the commander of Israel's proxy army who had fled to Paris, then Israel. "All of us, we are Lebanese," said Ali Diab, a wiry fighter carrying a submachine gun. "This country is for all." Lebanese politicians from various factions made similarly reassuring comments, but with so many weapons around and Syrian intentions unclear, wait and see was the order of the day. "We are now passing through a very critical situation," said Jebran Tueni, publisher of El Nahar newspaper. "Anything can happen."

Lebanon has long been a land crisscrossed with red lines that various sides would violate precisely when they wanted to create a provocation. Now the red lines are actual borders. There are no buffers, no real proxies. Barak has made it plain that an attack on Israeli territory would now be considered "an act of war." It's unlikely that Syria's Hafez al-Assad, with 30,000 troops in Lebanon, will want to provoke a direct conflict with Israel. Assad might instead look for other proxies, including Palestinian Islamic groups anxious to mimic Hizbullah's success in the occupied territories or within Israel proper. But then, other players will be happy to exploit Assad's weaknesses. For starters, now that Israel has withdrawn from Lebanon, many Lebanese might be emboldened to ask: why don't the Syrians leave, too?

DANIEL KLAIDMAN AND JOANNA CHEN IN NORTHERN ISRAEL AND CHRISTOPHER DICKEY IN PARIS

© 2000