LEBANON: Once their common enemy left, warlords, clan chiefs and religious leaders tried to secure as much power as possible, writes Megan K Stack
When anti-Syrian fever swept Lebanon this year, 25-year-old law student Nabil Abou Charaf didn't think twice. He told a sympathetic boss that he wouldn't be able to work quietly as a lawyer-in-training while the nation's youth clamoured for change in the streets.
He joined the mass of die-hard protesters living in a tent city on Martyr's Square, fuelled by adrenaline and ideals.
A fervent member of the "people power" campaign repeatedly cheered by the Bush administration, Abou Charaf camped under the Mediterranean stars during 72 days of political turmoil.
He didn't go home again until popular protests and international pressure forced Syrian soldiers out of Lebanon.
"All of the guys who went down had to sacrifice their jobs and their studies for the cause," said Abou Charaf, a Maronite Christian, who attends St Joseph's University in Beirut. "All of us made sacrifices for the Syrian withdrawal."
But as voters headed to the polls yesterday for a parliamentary election billed as the nation's first free vote after 30 years of civil war and Syrian domination, Abou Charaf is one of the many Lebanese who speak of being letdown. Instead of celebrating the creation of an independent government, Lebanon seems to have fallen into an anti-climactic panic.
"We are disappointed because, you know, politics have changed 180 degrees, but we still have the same people," [ in power], Abou Charaf said. "That's the problem. The new generation, the youth, can't accept it."
Less than four months have passed since the assassination of former prime minister Rafik Hariri sparked massive outrage against Damascus's military and political control over Lebanon. Back then, Beirut felt breathless.
Demonstrators thronged in the streets, blaming Syria for Hariri's death.
There was heady talk of unprecedented unity among previously warring religious groups. The Lebanese hoped this tortured country might finally make peace among its sects and liberate itself from foreign meddling.
It was an idea encouraged by the US, armed with a UN Security Council resolution that placed immense pressure on Syria to withdraw. The US described the Beirut demonstrations as the sort of democratic awakening that would be expected from the emerging, post-Saddam Hussein Middle East.
But the so-called Cedar Revolution has sputtered, leaving Lebanon to struggle with the old woes that have stuck to the country for generations: Aging warlords are steering themselves back into power. Famous families are preening their sons for parliament.
The anti-Syria alliance hastily forged among mainly Christians, Druze and Sunni Muslims after Hariri's death was never able to agree on much beyond their shared desire for Syria to leave.
Once their common enemy faded back over the border in a caravan of Syrian army trucks, the warlords, clan chiefs and religious leaders reverted to securing as much power as possible.
It's not clear just what Lebanese were expecting. Many acknowledge that it's too soon to expect a national overhaul. Still, the Syrian withdrawal revitalized revolutionary ideas such as a youthful takeover of the country or, at the very least, a new election law. But instead, the same candidates have drawn up the election lists with the usual backroom dealing, often teaming with ideological opponents to collect more votes in each district.
The election law hasn't changed since it was designed in 2000 by a parliament dominated by Syria's Lebanese allies. And there has been relatively little campaigning or popular outreach.
"Honestly, I'm not going to vote. I don't have any confidence in the team that's running for this election," said Ali Nasreddin, a 26-year-old PR worker.
The sense of alienation is particularly keen among Lebanon's youth. Abou Charaf says he has several friends who will travel home to Lebanon from abroad to stuff a blank ballot into the box as a silent protest.
Four weeks of voting started yesterday in the capital, where politics continue to be dominated by the Hariri family. Saad Hariri, the 35-year-old son of the former prime minister, has invoked the name and picture of his lionised father to lead a bloc of candidates vying for the city's 19 parliamentary seats.
Hariri's bloc is guaranteed to win a total of nine of the legislative posts, either because they are uncontested or because all the candidates for the job are in league with Hariri.
Candidates led by Hariri won all the seats in Beirut , a government source said.
"The count is nearly over and it's a landslide for Hariri's list," said the source, who asked not to be identified.
Hizbullah is poised to rise from 12 to 13 seats in parliament, but officials seem more concerned with protecting Hizbullah's guns than boosting its clout.
That means striking alliances, including deals with Christians and the longtime rival Shia group Amal. With a fight brewing over their guns and their Syrian allies gone, Hizbullah officials say they are eager to bolster domestic support.
The UN, US and various Lebanese parties have called upon Hizbullah to put down their guns in favour of political participation.
But Hizbullah, which is backed by Iran and Syria, has insisted it won't lay aside its arms in the foreseeable future.