Beirut: Seven Days in a Small War

(4 of 11)
Israel, do you say the same thing?"

"Yes." He is definite.

"What do you make of this war?"

"I cannot find the words. I don't hate the people. But I do hate the actions of the people."

He is all soldier now. He will not speculate on what course the P.L.O. should take. "It is up to our leaders." Asked if it came to a choice between laying down his arms and living to fight another day, or fighting it out to the end, he says: "There is no alternative. If we lose our identity, native. If we lose our identity, we lose everything." When pressed for a choice between reason and honor, he says, after some thought: "If I have to make priorities, I would choose honor first, but I don't know the answer, really." Sitting beside his brother, Farouk adds: "I would never place logic before dignity."

Out in the street, Ahmed points to the left, where the Phalangists are positioned, and to the Israelis on the right. At times he can see the enemy quite clearly. He can see their faces, but it disturbs him to think of them as individuals. Shuweifat is dead still; the apartment houses are still; the alleys like alleys in a painting. Suddenly there is a barrage of gunshots from the Phalangist side, but no one and nothing is hit. The P.L.O. soldiers return the fire. A skinny cat runs for cover. A chicken rapidly crosses the road, answering at least one question. More gunfire, then silence. Ahmed must return to the others. He hesitates before saying goodbye, then goes off with his comrades, trotting back for a moment to hand his visitor the badge from his cap. He apologizes that it is all he has to give.

Late that afternoon, it is learned that the baby Palestine is living safely with her father's sister's family in Syria. Oddly enough, however, a new Lebanese baby has just been born under similar circumstances. The mother, shot in the abdomen, died as the child was delivered. The father is unknown. The boy, called Samer by the nurses, is olive skinned and weighs barely 4 Ibs. One has to hold it close to the chest to prevent it from slip ping through.

Wednesday, June 30

The news of the morning clatters through breakfast. The U.S. is The news of the morning clatters through breakfast. The U.S. is trying to keep Israel from invading West Beirut; the Israeli Cabinet will hold a special session on Lebanon today; Israel will allow the P.L.O. to leave Beirut carrying small weapons, but they must leave; Lebanese Christians and leftists go at each other in the mountains east of Beirut; Saudi Arabia's King Fahd telephones President Reagan. Will the day see more leaflets or the real McCoy? Reporters trade guesses around the Commodore Hotel swimming pool, itself a point of danger in Beirut. The pool is deep but empty, and there is little room to walk around its sides. By the end of the week one man will have fallen in, severely injuring his head and breaking a leg, while another, in a bizarre decision to jump to his rescue, will have broken his leg too.

Near by, the Hotel Triomphe has been converted to an emergency hospital. In the unlit lobby restaurant, twelve beds are set out where the tables once were. A label on the door to the room states that American Express cards are welcome. There are more patients upstairs. A Lebanese man named Said was in his home