Nir Rosen - Aftermath

In Bedawi Palestinian officials told me that the Palestinian leadership in Beirut took a united stand and decided not to take sides. The pro-Syrian and pro-Fatah groups worked together, coordinating and refusing to get involved. Hizballah also met with Palestinian leaders and urged them not to participate. The Bedawi officials told me that Salafi clerics and leaflets had recently appeared in the camp, using the language of Iraq (such as referring to Shiites as rafidha ), and Lebanese Salafi groups were active in the camps again. Representatives of Khaled Dhaher and Mufti Rifai were encouraging people to fight the Alawites of Jabal Mohsen. Shahal was openly calling for this, too, asking for Palestinians to fight Hizballah. There were rumors that Fatah al-Islam men were fighting the Alawites at his behest. Shahal and his fighters had allied with Dhaher and the Future Movement.

The officials believed Absi was alive and living in the Beqaa. One of the Palestinian intelligence officials had known him. Absi had come to Lebanon without Syrian backing, he told me. He had not wanted to fight Shiites, only the UN peacekeepers and Israel. But Abu Hureira, the Lebanese Fatah al-Islam member from Akkar, had wanted to take up the fight. The intelligence official had been in Nahr al-Barid when Abu Hureira attacked the Lebanese soldiers. Absi hadn’t known about it in advance and had emerged from his house astonished. Before the attack Abu Hureira had called Sheikh Bilal Barudi in Tripoli and told him that if his men from the bank robbery were not released, then they would attack. Fatah al-Islam had been more than one group. During the Nahr al-Barid fighting Mufti Osama Rifai issued a fatwa allowing for Palestinians to be killed and for their belongings to be looted. There was a backlash following the fighting with Fatah al-Islam. Many of the older sheikhs in the camp were resented and replaced by young ones. The Lebanese army still manned checkpoints around Nahr al-Barid and was still humiliating people.

Entry into Ayn al-Hilweh was harder than ever, but I managed to get the army’s permission to meet Abu Ahmad Fadhil, the Hamas leader in the camp. The various Palestinian factions had formed an emergency committee headed by Kamal Midhat of Fatah. “There was a Palestinian consensus against interference,” he told me. “Even Usbat al-Ansar is in it. We as Palestinians won’t get involved in internal Lebanese affairs, we told the opposition and the government.”

Fadhil worried that Al Qaeda in Iraq was sending fighters to Lebanon. “These guys, their situation in Iraq is difficult, and they can’t live in Syria either.” As a result, some of them were coming to the camp and to the Beqaa, especially Majd al-Anjar. Both sides had an interest in getting the Palestinians involved in the fighting, Fadhil said, and attempts to draw them in had been especially forceful in Beirut’s Shatila camp. But Palestinians had rejected Fatah al-Islam, and even the most extreme groups like Jund al-Sham and Usbat al-Ansar did not have an anti-Shiite reaction following the May 8 clashes. Ayn al-Hilweh was different from Nahr al-Barid. Nahr al-Barid was far from Tripoli, while Ayn al-Hilweh was part of Saida. In Nahr al-Barid, the Palestinian factions were weak and could not stand up to Fatah al-Islam, but in Ayn al-Hilweh, Palestinians “are very strong and have the ability to prevent groups like Fatah al-Islam from appearing.”

I went to see Abu Ghassan in the camp, with whom I had spent so much time in 2007. The last camp member to go fight in Iraq had left four or five months earlier. Now the border between Lebanon and Syria was hard to cross, and the Syrian Iraqi border was even harder. “We had nothing to do with the Beirut battles,” he told me. “Neither side likes us; they would all have blamed us. Hizballah sent people here and said, ‘These guys killed you last year in Nahr al-Barid, fight with us.’ Future said, ‘These guys killed you in the war of the camps, join us.’”

Attacks on Sunni mosques were evidence of sectarian hatred on both sides, he told me, but he regretted this. “We have doctrinal differences with them, but we have an enemy, Israel. I am speaking as a Muslim: if sectarian war happens here, like in Iraq, then Palestinians would get involved. In the end, we are Sunnis.”

I asked him which jihadist ideologues were most influential in the camp. He named Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi, a Saudi called Sheikh Khalid Rashid, Ayman al-Zawahiri, and Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, but “Sheikh Osama” bin Laden was the most important, “because he renewed jihad in our century.” Although many “terrorism experts” in the West were excited that several prominent jihad ideologues had recanted, Abu Ghassan confirmed my view that most people knew they had been forced to change their mind.

He had sold his Glock pistol recently. Weapons prices in the camp were related to the prices in Syria and Iraq, he told me. He now had a CZ75 pistol, which cost $1,500. As we spoke, we heard shots fired outside. He told his son to come in the house.

Back in Tripoli, Musbah al-Ahdab publicly stated that if Hizballah had a right to fight, then so too did Salafis. If the army could not protect Lebanese citizens, then he could not ask Salafis to disarm. If Hizballah did not lay its arms down, the whole north would become Salafis, he warned. “The only solution is to put Hizballah’s arms on the table and find a solution; otherwise, the whole north will become Salafists, and I can only sympathize with them,” he concluded.

In early July 2008 I returned to the Salam Mosque in Tripoli to hear Bilal Barudi speak. People sat smoking a nargila at a nearby cafe. I sat at one of the tables as Barudi’s sermon blasted throughout the area. Sunnis were in danger, he warned; they wanted tawtin , the granting of citizenship to the Palestinians. “We are in a rage now and we should take advantage of that rage,” he said. “We have to keep our sect together. Why are they afraid of tawtin ? Because Palestinians are Sunnis. . . . There is a conspiracy against us Sunnis.” Why, he asked, did Armenians in Lebanon have citizenship when their homeland was stable but the Palestinians, who had nothing, were denied it?

I interviewed Barudi in his office. He was born a sheikh, he told me, explaining that his family had provided sheikhs for seven hundred years. Barudi had met Shaker al-Absi when Absi first arrived. “He started attracting young men with a call to defend Sunnis,” he told me. “I told him you are all going to get killed.” Barudi claimed he had gone to Beirut to meet Hassan Nasrallah and other Shiite officials after the 2006 Samarra shrine attack, but he said that Nasrallah had been very aggressive with him. He also claimed that Iran and Hizballah operatives blew up the shrine, and stressed that two hundred Sunni mosques in Iraq were destroyed on the same day.

“There is no alternative to Hariri,” he told me. “Hizballah is trying to control us and remove us from the Lebanese equation, but we asked the mufti and Saad al-Hariri to arm the guys on the street, and we know that the guys on the street are capable and ready to fight. There is no solution but the armed solution. This period of time will be dangerous. There is a chance for Al Qaeda to appear in Lebanon. We expect suicide bombers in Lebanon soon.” Barudi described the Islamic Gathering as “a national Islamic resistance against the Iranian plan in Lebanon,” warning that the Shiites would make him don an imama , as a Shiite clerical turban is known.

I asked Nawaf al-Musawi of Hizballah if he expected Al Qaeda to establish itself in Lebanon. “Saad won’t stay in Lebanon if this happens,” he said. “They will pay the price for this. The Al Qaeda agenda has other priorities. Musbah al-Ahdab will be the first victim.”