Taif, the Constitution, and the Republic’s Bad Habits (2/2)

Some will argue that dividing power along sectarian lines, even to an excessive degree, is indispensable in a country made up of several religious communities. But how far can this logic be taken without emptying the parliamentary system of its substance? And, above all, who decided that respect for the National Pact should require the consent of representatives of the three largest communities on matters both major and minor?

Paragraph (j) of the Constitution’s preamble states that “No legitimacy is recognized for any authority that contradicts the pact of communal coexistence.” How did this provision come to be interpreted as establishing a mithaqiyya, or principle of communal consensus, granting certain officials a veto over the functioning of institutions?

Yet Hussein Husseini defined coexistence on the basis of four principles: freedom, equality, a dignified life, and mutual assistance and solidarity. These values recall the motto of the French Republic, “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.” There is no reference here to the mithaqiyya we constantly invoke, a term for which we can scarcely find a satisfactory French translation.

It is also worth examining the origins of several provisions in the preamble to the Constitution as amended following Taif, which many consider the new National Pact. Is it widely known that these provisions were drawn almost entirely, and in some cases almost word for word, from the “Islamic Constants” proclaimed by Imam Mohammad Mahdi Chamseddine at Dar al-Fatwa on September 21, 1983, six years before Taif? This connection at least deserves to be acknowledged and examined before attributing meanings to the constitutional text that it does not contain.

Equality Proclaimed, Privileges Preserved

The consequences of these interpretations go far beyond disputes between the presidencies. They affect the very principle of equality among citizens and the quality of their political representation.

Article 7 of the 1926 Constitution provides that Lebanese citizens are equal in civil and political rights. Can anyone seriously claim that this principle has ever been fully respected, even among members of the same religious community or denomination? How can citizens be expected to give their undivided loyalty to their country when political life continues to rest largely on privileges, communal affiliations, and particular loyalties?

We profess our commitment to parliamentary democracy. But can it function properly under a deeply flawed electoral law, often designed to suit the interests of a particular political camp or coalition? Can Parliament fulfill its role when representation itself is distorted by the rules governing its composition? Would the late Patriarch Sfeir’s proposals for small electoral districts and a majoritarian voting system not be suitable for all Lebanese today, particularly Christians?!

Another point deserves to be recalled. Did the Taif Agreement not provide for 108 members of Parliament rather than 128? Was the increase to 128 seats not imposed under Syrian tutelage to expand the number of deputies subject to its orders? If Taif is to be implemented “as a whole,” why do those who insist so strongly on certain provisions not demand a return to the number of deputies originally envisaged?

The same applies to the reforms periodically presented as remedies for all our problems. Is this the right time to abolish political sectarianism? And would the creation of a Chamber of Deputies elected without sectarian quotas be enough to eliminate the communal divisions and sectarian reflexes that still dominate political discourse and electoral behavior? Can changes to constitutional and legal provisions produce the desired results if attitudes and practices remain unchanged?

Expanded administrative decentralization, also provided for under Taif, raises a similar question. How could it succeed without a strong central state capable of supervising decisions made in the regions and ensuring the uniform application of the law? Under present circumstances, would such a reform put an end to corruption, clientelism, and the domination of local leaders, or would it risk strengthening them by placing additional powers and resources in their hands?

A state cannot be built by multiplying centers of power beyond its control. Before transferring responsibilities to the regions, should we not first ensure that the central government is actually capable of exercising its own?

Lebanese Sovereignty and Its Contradictions

These institutional questions cannot, however, be separated from an older problem: the relations between our leaders and foreign powers. Much is said about Lebanon’s neutrality. But is such neutrality possible when, since before independence, our political leaders have been accustomed to establishing channels of communication with consuls and embassies, seeking foreign intervention, and turning to regional or international powers for the support they cannot secure from their fellow citizens?

How can a country be neutral if its own leaders are not?

It would nevertheless be unfair to attribute all of Lebanon’s misfortunes solely to the mistakes of its leaders. Our country lies in a region whose history has been deeply shaped by religious conflicts, territorial ambitions, and international rivalries. How can Lebanon hope to live in lasting peace so close to the birthplace of the revealed religions, where religious beliefs so often take precedence over all other considerations? How can it achieve stability in a region whose oil and gas resources attract the ambitions of the great powers? And how can it prosper with, on its borders, a state we regard as usurping and racist, whose ambitions regarding our land and water resources date back to the establishment of Greater Lebanon?

The history of our southern border is worth recalling in this respect. In the first volume of his series Le Mémorial du Liban, historian Joseph Chami recounts how France and its high commissioners in Lebanon firmly opposed Zionist ambitions to gain access to the waters of the Litani River and to expand across the whole of southern Lebanon. He also recalls the intervention of High Commissioner Weygand to prevent certain sales of land to Zionists and the draining of the Hula marshes. These territorial and water-related issues did not begin with the recent wars. They were already present in the earliest years of Greater Lebanon.

Other, more contemporary contradictions also demand an explanation. How can we understand that Iran and its proxies, according to the responsibility attributed to them, were able to strike the US Embassy in Beirut and subsequently American facilities in Aoukar, not to mention the bombing of the US Marine barracks, without provoking a truly decisive American response? How can we explain attacks carried out in several countries around the world and the gradual accumulation, year after year, of a considerable arsenal transported by land and sea, without Washington adopting a policy capable of halting this expansion?

And now, after forty years of Iranian domination over Lebanon, the United States is asking us to disarm Hezbollah within a matter of months! Why should what was built up over decades, under the eyes of the world’s leading power, now be dismantled almost overnight by a Lebanese state that has not been allowed to exercise its authority fully?

This in no way diminishes the responsibility of our leaders or of those who accepted or facilitated this domination. But the powers that allowed such a situation to develop, or accommodated it according to their interests at different times, cannot now behave as though they were discovering it for the first time.

Rebuilding Lebanon, But on What Foundations?

We thus come to the problem that overshadows all others. How can Lebanon rebuild itself after more than fifty years of disorder, wars, and destruction, when the entire Middle East is undergoing upheaval, conflict, a redistribution of influence, and a challenge to the balances that have governed the region until now?

Constitutional provisions can be amended, electoral laws changed, administration decentralized, powers redistributed, and new mechanisms for consultation devised. But surely we must first respect the existing rules, acknowledge that institutions have distinct functions, and accept that no one can claim powers without assuming the responsibilities that accompany them. We must also recognize that parliamentary democracy requires a majority that governs, an opposition that exercises oversight, and citizens who can hold their elected representatives accountable.

For years, we have debated the rights of the President of the Republic, the rights of the Prime Minister, the rights of the Speaker of Parliament, and the rights of religious communities. We devote far less attention to the duties that accompany those rights, to respect for the law, and to the political accountability of those who exercise power.

The Taif Agreement is certainly not without flaws. The Constitution can be amended and institutions improved. But what value would new provisions have if we continued to treat laws as mere bargaining instruments, elevate abusive practices to the status of constitutional rules, and seek foreign assistance to impose our will on our fellow citizens?

Before asking what kind of republic we want to build, perhaps it is time to ask why we have never succeeded in making the one we already have function properly.

Lebanon’s problem is, in fact, often mistakenly presented as essentially structural: a problem of political formula, regime, system, and so forth.

Or it is described as a problem of sovereignty and authority, particularly the challenge posed by Hezbollah’s weapons to the state’s monopoly on the use of force, and its most recent consequence, Israel’s occupation of a substantial portion of the national territory.

But is it enough to explain the scale and persistence of the crisis?

Should we not look for its deepest causes in the entrenched rivalry between Lebanon’s religious communities and in the fear and mistrust that govern their relations and have now reached their highest levels on all sides?

A mere political, constitutional, or territorial adjustment will not resolve this age-old problem.

Breaking this vicious circle requires a different approach and a different mindset on the part of those who govern, founded on equality and social justice as a catalyst for a sense of national belonging.

Yet every successive regime since 1943 has failed in this respect, each for different reasons.

Without such a change, injustice will continue to breed fear, fear a desire for domination, and domination an endless rivalry that threatens to erupt into violence.

Who will finally have the courage to break this vicious circle?