I visited Lebanon a few months ago and I was in awe of the country. I didnt realise it could be that beautiful!!!
I travelled to Lebanon for many reasons, but the main one was to visit Sabra & Shatila.
When visiting the areas of Sabra & Shatilla today, I had no idea what to expect. I remember seeing photographs of the camps at the time of the Israeli invasion. Packed streets of tents and breezeblock homes, no electricity, no running water, crammed from end to end with the poor and the refugees. Nothing has much changed. There is still no running water or electricity because the current Lebanese government will not allow planning permission for such things since the area is right alongside the airport. I'm not sure how this warrants an excuse. Worse still, Muslim Palestinians are no longer allowed to buy property in Lebanon and recently a law was passed that any property currently in possesion of a Palestinian, could not be passed onto a family member in the event of their death, instead it must be sold onto a Lebanese citizen. Its ironic that the Christian Palestinians were given citizenship of Lebanon in the 1950's, but if the Muslim Palestinians were given citizenship, they would be the largest comunity in the country.
I had intended to visit the area to take a small granite plaque with me that I had engraved as a small token gesture from myself and the people of Glasgow. I managed to get to Lebanon easily enough. I toured Sidon, Tripoli, the Cedars, the Bekaa valley and offcourse Beirut itself among other places. I almost never made it to the camps. I spoke to a varied cross section of Lebanese people about the camps. Not very many of them had much to say about Sabra & Shatilla. I found out that the general consensus of Lebanese thought on the subject of the camps is that there is not a great love among the Lebanese for the Palestinians. However, the Lebanese people see the Palestinians who are taking part in the Intifada, that is, the Palestinians who are in Palestine, as heroes. They will talk to you for hours about the great deeds being done against the Israeli aggressors, about the martyrs and about how they wish them victory. The Lebanese love the Palestinians, so long as they are in Palestine. Lebanon has still not recovered from the Israeli invasion of 82, which led to the massacres, and they put the sole blame of that war on the Palestinians. Many Lebanese people I spoke to told me about how the western world saw the recent civil war in Lebanon as being about the Muslims fighting the Christians, but in actual fact the fighting was between the Palestinians against Muslims, Christian, Israelis & Syrians. You only need a minimal amount of political knowledge to work out which story is correct. Suddenly, walking around Beirut with a solidarity ribbon and t-shirt wasn't sounding like such a good idea. What the hell, I was actually quite proud to wear them!
I spoke to Lebanese Sunni & Shia'a muslims, Druze & Maronites. Each told me the same story, "Dont go to the camps! They are dangerous places with bands of armed militiamen from diffrent factions of Palestinians, pro-Syrians, pro-Iranians, pro this & pro-that..."
A simple idea to place a memorial alongside the site of massacre was beginning to turn into a nightmare. Visions of armed gangs and guerillas in my head was how I first stepped into the camps. I was a nervous wreck. I had been given the opportunity to visit the areas with the help of at least 3 groups/parties of people but with the violent nature of the camps I had heard about, I decided to go as a neutral rather than a guest of any particular group. After taking a taxi to Shatilla, I stepped out of the cab and found myself right in the middle of the area. It was, to date at least, the most frightening moment of my life. I was in the middle of an area I had been told was the most lawless place in Lebanon without a clue as to where I was or where I was going. I was carrying a granite plaque wrapped in Glasgow Tartan and wearing a Palestinian solidarity ribbon. I didnt know wether to laugh or cry! I decided to bite the bullet and ask for directions. A kindly old gentleman stood bewildered as I tried in vain to ask where I could take my plaque and within a few minutes I found myself surrounded by at least 8 or 9 local men who began to take an interest in me. Not knowing how to speak arabic (or indeed any other language) proved to be a major stumbling block. I unwrapped the plaque, pointed to the words 'Sabra & Shatilla' then the date of 1982. Each of the men began to talk excitedly which made me even more nervous. One of the men pointed to me and asked, in sketchy English, if I was with UNICEF or Solidarity. 'Solidarity, from Glasgow' I replied, to which some hearty pats on the back and much hugging ensued. After one of the men slyly winked at me and said 'Sinn Fein', still smiling, he pointed me in the direction of where I wanted to go, which turned out to be the memorial garden which was looked after by some caretakers who would be able to help me and answer all my questions. After a 10min walk through tightly packed streets of market traders and vendors, I saw a gateway in front of me. There was no mistaking it. A high iron gate adorned with a Lebanese and a Palestinian flag, arabic script written around the top alongside hand written banners on each side. This was the place. I felt the lump in my throat rise as soon as I passed through the gate. Inside was a dry, dusty garden, home to the odd sprig of grass and the occasional rosebush. A couple of billboards had been erected in the garden where I learned that the intention is to put photographs of the victims on display as an ever lasting personal memory. I spoke to 3 caretakers who each told me their story relating to the massacre. Each man had lost family member in the massacre and I also learnt that each man was Lebanese, not Palestinian. After telling them where I had come from and my purpose of coming to Lebanon, I handed them the plaque and read it out to them as they weren't too familiar with English. For the 2nd time that day, I was afraid. One of the men became irate and asked why the plaque read 'In memory of the Palestinians who lost their lives...' and why it didnt read Palestinians AND Lebanese. I had no answer for him. There had been offcourse since about a quarter of the victims were local Lebanese refugees. The same man went on to tell me how the Palestinians involved in the Intifada were heroes but the Palestinians who lived in Lebanon were scroungers and were the cause of the problems there. I should have argued with the man. I should have told him how the people didnt want to be in Lebanon, that they wanted to go home but the Israeli regime wouldnt allow that. They wanted to support themselves but the Lebanese regime wouldnt allow that. Instead, I sat silent, either through cowardice or through humility. I couldnt feel anger at these men since they too had been victims of the Israeli invasion. Wether they sensed that I was feeling uncomfortable or that I had got the message from them, I was offered lunch & coffee, as is the Arabic tradition, and things were much more at ease with myself and the men. We spoke for hours, about Israel, America, the puppet Tony blair and the world in general.
My ever lasting memory of this place will be the people of that area today. They have suffered more than I could ever imagine, their future doesnt look as if it is about to change under the current politics of the Middle East and their living standards compared to that of the western world are nothing short of catastrophic. But, when I spoke to various people to and from those camps, the caretakers of the memorial site and the occasional visitor I had seen in the garden, I learned that these people will never be broken. They have seen war, destruction and hardship like nothing we will ever see here in the west, yet they live each day, thankful to be alive and grateful for what little they have. When I think of those masacres that took place 20 years ago, I will no longer feel sorrow. I will be happy that I have met the people of Sabra & Shatilla today and I will share their spirit, good-will and their ever lasting hope for peace.
