LEBANON: The Blasting of Beirut

An all-out Syrian effort to crush the Christians

It has become another Stalin-grad." So said a weary Lebanese Christian, preparing to abandon his beloved city of Beirut—perhaps forever. Once again the sectarian violence that has savaged Lebanon for the past five years had erupted in a round of destruction and death. In an all-out effort to crush right-wing Christian militiamen with whom it has been fighting a months-long war, the 30,000-man Syrian peace-keeping force launched a devastating block-by-block assault on Christian areas of Beirut. By week's end it had left at least 800 dead and thousands more wounded. As an unmistakable signal of warning to Syrian forces, Israeli warships bombarded Syrian positions in the Lebanese capital, underscoring Jerusalem's determination to prevent the "genocide" of its Christian allies.

The brutal war between the Syrians and the Christians was not directly related to the Middle East peace talks that begin in Washington this week. Nonetheless, a substantial Israeli military intervention on behalf of their embattled Lebanese clients—particularly if it led to a confrontation with the Syrian army —would clearly threaten the outcome of those negotiations. So far, the Israelis' reaction to the fighting has been limited. They have provided the Christians with medical aid, and presumably some weapons, but they have not bombed and strafed Palestinian and Muslim strongholds as in previous Lebanese flare-ups.

The battle began on Sept. 30, when a 50-man Syrian patrol was pinned down by snipers in Christian-dominated East Beirut. In an effort to free the trapped patrol, Syrian artillery units let loose the heaviest barrages seen in the city since the Lebanese civil war came to an official end two years ago. "Never in the uninterrupted years of war since 1973 has there been such bitter fighting as in the past week," reported TIME Correspondent Dean Brelis from Beirut. "Throughout the eastern part of the city there is a continuous barrage of exploding shells and rockets. The road crossing through the old 'green line' separating the Christian and Muslim areas of Beirut is impassable.

"Streets are filled with the dead and dying, their moans drowned by the ceaseless thunder of the exploding shells. Somehow, a voice rises above the din, proclaiming, 'I can hear myself dying.' Said one resident of the strife-torn city who has vowed never to return: I shall pray for those who are fighting. Prayer is the only hope that they have left.'

"After six days of shelling, the guns are still not silent, and there are reports that people in East Beirut are starving. A woman reached by telephone describes what is happening: 'We live in the cellar of our building. There are some nuns with us and they pray, but the bombs keep falling. We finished our last tin of corned beef —one spoonful for each person. There is only half a gallon of water left, but we don't dare go up into the streets. When a dying dog came into our shelter, a boy said he would take it away and bury it. His mother told him not to, but he wouldn't listen. He picked up the dog and went up the steps. He never came back. Maybe the Lord has decided that this is the end of the world.' The telephone line went dead."