Passing strange

 

In the week since their panicked exodus from Lebanon into Israel, the South Lebanese Army refugees are finding it hard to understand the bitter truth of their exile. Some are even thinking of returning to their homeland.

 

By Ada Ushpiz, Ha’aretz, 2.6.00

 

 

Simon Louis Helou, the only South Lebanese Army man among those who have found refuge at Beit Feldman in Netanya who agreed to be interviewed and identified by name, was never involved in battle in the security zone. He was just a maintenance officer at Marj Ayoun for nine years, and for the past four years he worked in a shoe store in Kiryat Shmona. However, he is clinging to his conviction that only one fate awaits him back in Lebanon: death.The sights of the past few days, which have shown that the Hezbollah is being directed to content itself with looting and wild victory celebrations, have not convinced him otherwise. "They laughed at all of them, at all the people who turned themselves in to the Hezbollah," he said. "I'm sure that all of them are now in the hands of the Syrian intelligence, languishing in Syrian prisons. For me there is no prison, they're looking to kill me," he added with miserable insistence, swinging between painful despair and games of lost honor. "I worked too close to the Israelis, when I brought supplies from Israel to the outposts, and then I opened a restaurant in my village and I would bring provisions from Kiryat Shmona and make felafel, just like in Israel, with salads and everything. It's not allowed."

 

Blue-eyed and lean, he sits on his bed in the small room full of army cots that was allocated to him, his wife and his three children in one of the hospitality centers run by the Va'ad Lema'an Hahayal (soldiers' welfare committee).

 

Depression overwhelms him. The noise of the children outside and the weeping of his 10-year-old daughter whose friends threw sand in her eyes while they were playing brought a faint smile to his lips. "All my work in the SLA, all my work in Israel, an entire life, all the money I saved," he muttered, his eyes moist. "I invested it all in trucks, cars, a home for my children, the restaurant. All of it was taken by Hezbollah agents, our neighbors. I know them all. We worked together in the SLA and suddenly overnight they're Hezbollah, stealing, setting my house on fire. I worked day and night and now it has all collapsed. Now I'm zero, zero I tell you, beginning all over again. I'm tired, very tired. For 20 years I've just been working all the time for my wife, my children. How could they do this to us?"

 

 

 

 

A living and pride

The family originates in Jezzine. His father is a priest who opposed his service in the SLA ("Every father doesn't want his son to go to the army," he explained). He was born and married in Clea, a Maronite village on the border with Israel - it is located in the midst of the cluster of Christian villages around Marjayoun in the heart of the Shi'ite area of southern Lebanon.

 

Clea was among the first villages to have collaborated with Israel. Many of its children were born during the Israeli rule over the security zone, and knew the reality of the occupation, poverty and forced alienation from northern Lebanon, with total economic dependence on Israel. The most accessible source of a living, which ensured a good life with about $500 a month ("In southern Lebanon, that's a fortune"), was the SLA. The SLA people got rich quickly and accumulated power. This is the name of the game in a torn, crushed country, slashed by ethnic wars, without a strong central government, easy prey for generations of colonialists - French, British, Israeli and Syrian. The Israel Defense Forces (IDF), "strong, organized and no Arab army can beat it," as Helou puts it, was greeted with open arms in Clea.

 

In contrast to the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, in the security zone Israel also invested in infrastructures, health care and education, happily nurturing false Christian rationalizations of carrying the flag of progress, democracy and Western civilization. "Those who wanted to take the SLA apart wanted to wipe out Lebanon, to take it back 2,000 years, to camels and donkeys, without universities, without progress," confided Hashem Nazim, a relative of Helou's, who thanks to his fluent Hebrew and his military connections became the Lebanese refugees' representative at Beit Feldman. He exudes self-confidence and his manner is almost Israeli, but his boastful humor does not disguise his vulnerability and anger. "Today, we cannot speak out. We are refugees and it's inappropriate, but in the near future, the truth will come to light," he warned aggressively, pointing an accusing finger, rather surprisingly, at America. "Do you know how much he lost?" whispers Helou. "His son alone left behind a store for Tambour paint products worth $100,000, a Mercedes 300, a Mercedes 190, a transporter van. They took everything."

 

Simon Helou continued to try his luck marketing cosmetic products for seven years after Israel invaded Lebanon. "It was hard, people didn't pay, they took merchandise on credit and I was ashamed to ask my relatives for money." He married a woman from his village, whose father was the head of Anton Lahad's personal bodyguard and whose brothers also served in the SLA in 1989. Nine months after he was married, when his wife was in her seventh month of pregnancy, he too went the way of his in-laws. "I went into an existing situation, but it was my choice. I went to earn a living and nobody made me do it. My primary aim was to live respectably and with pride and to defend our area so that we could have a better future, so that we would lack for nothing, so that we would have what to eat and drink. We were strong, the only ones who weren't doing whatever Syria said, not afraid of anyone, expressing our opinions without fear, like in Israel. In Beirut, for example, anyone who opens his mouth against Syria disappears.

 

"I want everyone to know, including those who stayed behind in Lebanon, that we have lost houses and vehicles but we have not lost our honor and pride, even when we are in Israel."

 

Had he known the end of the story in advance, he would not have chosen this path, admits Helou as he curls back into his hurt, like a deflated balloon. He has a lot of friends in the IDF, and one of them is even a lieutenant colonel, but he cannot trace him. For some time he understood that Israel would withdraw, it was no surprise, but he did not expect it to be like this. He believed that Israel would see to it that the vacuum it left behind would be filled by UNIFIL and that the SLA forces would continue to function as a Christian militia that would stop the Hezbollah.

 

He knew that they were strong, especially in Clea, and he never imagined that anyone was intending to topple them intentionally, he said cautiously. It was not at random that the IDF withdrew first from the central front, he said, voicing the complaint that is most common among the SLA refugees - and not devoid of hatred for Shi'ites. Shi'ites were serving in the outposts in this front. They were forced to enlist in the SLA, were not as devoted to struggle as the Christians, and rushed to turn themselves in to the Hezbollah. This is what started the panic that caused the SLA to collapse like dominoes, they say.

 

Helou watched the takeover of Ras al Naqura, Remeish and Bint Jebail by the Hezbollah on television. When they got to Adisa, 18 kilometers from Clea, he understood that it was all over. The next day there was no school and he and his family crowded into his restaurant. The telephone never stopped ringing and he and his friends exchanged information all the time. The shooting grew closer. They were experienced in civil war and the psychological warfare of the Hezbollah did not fall on deaf ears. "We will kill them inside their houses, and we will not even leave their dead on Lebanese land. They are unclean," threatened Hassan Nasrallah in a television broadcast. General Lahad was in Paris. There was no one to tell them what to do.

 

Until the last minute Helou did not believe that he would have to abandon his home. "We looked at one another, and we didn't now what to do. We were all on our own, and if we hadn't fled there would have been a river of blood, because we were the first to have held out a hand to Israel and we said that the IDF and the SLA were one," he protested. Only at the very last minute did he and his wife pack whatever they could lay their hands on and joined the flow of cars heading for the border.

 

Like thousands of others he was not allowed to bring his Mercedes into Israel. IDF soldiers ordered him to leave the car with the keys inside and he saw the Hezbollah people who pursued them smashing the windows. "I lost a home, and a restaurant, and now a car," he wailed. "I don't want to go back to Lebanon. It's over. There's nothing left for me there. I don't even want my Lebanese identity card. Enough! why should Lebanese do this to Lebanese? I want to be an Israeli, an American. Enough. Why is everyone in Lebanon so bad, all of them?" He wiped a tear from his eye. "I don't want to hear about Lebanon. Why, did we wrong them? We worked, we just wanted peace. Lebanon is not a state. Only if they wipe out the militias and get rid of the Syrian rule, then maybe I'll go back there, but this won't happen, even in another 150 years. What do our children know of Lebanon? They've never seen Beirut, they've never seen anything, they're outcasts, because we're from the SLA."

 

 

 

 

Like thieves in the night

It has been a week since the panicked exodus from Lebanon into Israel, and as the days go by the South Lebanese Army refugees are feeling that they have come to a dead end. Within 24 hours they disappeared from the main headlines in the Israeli media and have been forgotten. They have begun to taste the bitterness of being uprooted and are still finding it hard to digest the meaning of being refugees, of having nothing, of being defeated, humiliated, deprived of all their assets and bereft of the positions of power that had been their lot. With all their might they are defending myths that collapsed in one night of chaos.

 

 Many of them are playing with the idea of returning to their homeland. The key: a peace treaty between Israel and Syria that would not ignore them, for a change. This week they were taken by Interior Ministry officials for private talks in their rooms and offered the choice between tickets overseas, returning to Lebanon or staying in Israel. They do not dare to admit it, but they have an unhappy feeling that they are not wanted here, despite their blood covenant with Israel.

 

"I don't care whether I'm wanted here or not, but I'll get all the rights of a new immigrant here. Not as a favor, but by right. Every one of us has had a blood transfusion in an Israeli hospital, and our blood is Jewish," said a Maronite man in all seriousness. Generously proportioned, his dark, chubby face radiates calm and his blue eyes are challenging. He has nothing against Israel; everything he did was "normal," he said. Only the Lebanese Christians need blame themselves for not taking advantage of the golden opportunity they were given by Israel, when it set a Maronite president, Bashir Jumaiyel, over them in the 1980s.

 

It is hard for them to come to terms with the elimination of the SLA, even though most of them realize that Israel cannot abandon the security zone to a war between militias on its northern border; and who better than they know to respect the Israeli interests that justify everything. But why, they ask, was it necessary to sneak out within 24 hours like thieves in the night, under cover of false and insulting propaganda about the unexpected collapse of the SLA, while SLA commanders had received direct orders to disperse the outposts. In some of the villages, they say, SLA soldiers formed up at the approaches along with boys of 10 and 12 who were given weapons in order to stop the Hezbollah, but the senior officers showed up there and ordered them to retreat. "Israel wanted a quiet withdrawal and we paid with our souls, with our future, with our fate," they said exhaustedly. "We accepted this like a flock of sheep, as if we were standing at a stoplight that suddenly changed from red to green and everybody started driving."

 

"In Lebanon I wouldn't have looked at this twice," sneered a young man of 27, holding a second-hand shirt, but in the end he took the entire pile to his room. He was nine years old when Israel invaded Lebanon in 1982. His father left the shelter to bring them food and water and never came back. Since he was 15, he has carried arms. He grew accustomed to killing, ambushes, and war became second nature to him, an everyday fact. Every morning he went to the outpost and every evening he came home to run his family affairs. He was wounded three times. "What could I do? I had to work," he shrugged. He needed money to support his mother and his younger siblings. Later, he absorbed the "SLA ideology" that only Israel can help southern Lebanon ("The Lebanese government doesn't even have paper to feed southern Lebanon," he snorted).

 

He has not ceased to make his reckoning with the defeat, restlessly, with repressed anger. "We would never have turned ourselves in. We would have fought to the end, but Israeli soldiers came to the outpost and said to us: 'This is it, we're folding, right now. Anyone who wants to come to Israel, should come.' I was afraid of the Syrians. They're cruel. I knew that I had to take my family with me. They left us no alternative." Today, in retrospect, he thinks that he would prefer Lebanon without any foreign control - Israeli, Syrian or Iranian. For Israel, he is nursing a sweet prediction of revenge, when its chosen policy hits it in the face. "I have information that Syria has stopped supporting the Hezbollah and has begun to train Palestinians from the refugee camps again," he revealed angrily. "I hope that [Prime Minister Ehud Barak] picks this up and makes peace with Syria, so that we can go back to Lebanon."

 

 

 

 

The Israeli plot

"The IDF simply betrayed us," muttered a man of about 35. Rosy-cheeked, choked with anger, his blue eyes red with pain, he has just come back from the hospital. He removed his two prosthetic legs and stretched out on the bed. Twelve years of service in a commando unit of the SLA have exacted a high price from him. He, like others, is not prepared to talk about his injuries and the action he has seen in battle, for fear of the Hezbollah should he return to Lebanon. "What will become of people like me, who will take care of them, who will give disability payments to 250 wounded veterans, to widows, to orphans?" he burst out. "Enough. I want to tell the truth, I want to rest. It was only out of fear that we ran away. Officers promised us that we would be able to continue to fight for our villages, to cling to our land, but Israel plotted with Hezbollah and allowed it to use children as a living shield. Israeli soldiers see how they throw stones and insult their prime minister by the fence and they don't do a thing, because there is an agreement between Israel and Syria and the Hezbollah to hand over southern Lebanon to them."

 

"I'm finished." His young, pretty wife grasped her head, her plentiful hair wild, a tremor of exhaustion in her jaw. For the past two years, ever since her husband was injured, she worked as a secretary in the SLA. "Maybe you'll come tomorrow? The children think we're on a trip here. What will become of us?" she stammered.

 

"We are loyal to Israel and we love our country, but we never wanted it to become an Islamic state. By what right did Israel stop us from fighting?," continued her husband furiously. "Why is it that in Beirut when they see (Likud NK Ariel) Sharon they begin to shake all over and when they see Barak they make obscene gestures? The Hezbollah must be crushed. if you let go it will raise its head like a snake. No question about it. We love Sharon and (former prime minister Benjamin) Netanyahu."

 

A hawkish rhetoric of Israeli nationalism that is more Israeli than the Israelis' own has met with impotence, facing betrayal in a reality in which betrayal and cynical exploitation are in-built. "Why do I need to feel sorry for Israel?" the wife wept. "This is it's responsibility. Cursed be the day that we put our trust in Israel. How could we have thought that it was possible to make friends with Israel? We helped them be in our country, we made friends with them, even though everyone told us not to get close to the Jews, and within six hours they abandoned us. We want to know what will happen to us. Maybe tomorrow they will come to an agreement with the Hezbollah to send us back to Lebanon, without an agreement. Israel wanted to get out of Lebanon and all the dirt lands on our heads. For 25 years we were with Israel, half of its life as a state, and it left us."

 

 

 

 

A Christian dream

Outside, on the lawn, the SLA men surrounded Anton Lahad, who came for a surprise visit, surrounded by Shin Bet agents. The former head of his bodyguard walked about with a smile of enjoyment on his face and muttered: "The general, the general." There were also others who still took pleasure in his soothing words, but most of the men, nervous and impatient, listened tensely, particularly the younger men, who wore on their chests gold chains with crosses. 'You're a maniac, a cheat, a liar. You raised the price of gas and you stole the money. You took the money and you fled to France. Where were you when we needed you? And now you come along to cheat us, to tell us fairy stories," screamed a young Christian man.

 

One of Lahad's Shi'ite followers tried to quiet him. Within seconds a fight broke out between Lahad's supporters and his opponents, and yelling was heard from all quarters. "I'll kill him, the son of a bitch." Shin Bet men skillfully whisked Lahad out of the arena, and then turned to calming things down, but the tension remained in the air for a long time. Young SLA men went about with strained faces, eaten up by bitterness. "Yes, the Christians are angrier at him than anyone else. He has betrayed the Christian cause," explained one of the young men.

 

And as the adults complain, the children are more enthusiastic. "Israel is beautiful and quiet. Everything is good. It's like a dream and I hope to stay here," says tanned and enthusiastic a boy of 14 wearing a baseball cap. "I'll go home only if Syria pulls out and Lebanon becomes a Maronite and Christian country. In Syria the Muslims have a lot of room, and in Iran too. Lebanon must not be stained by Muslims, because it is very beautiful. There is nowhere more beautiful in the whole world, but it has become a war zone, and that's why I don't want to go back.