1: A worth reading personal ordeal, mirroring Lebanon's,
This is a personal ordeal worth reading.
We saw how many `hostages' looked pale and washed out as they were released from captivity.
Their predicament was equal to that of the Lebanese people. It was indeed a mirror image.
The storm broke in Lebanon, and in Beirut in particular on 13 April 1975, ever since we heard the boom of artillery fires in short days and long nights.
Foreign factions were `simply' fighting each other; directly or by proxy, on our land. The land that had once been a quiet haven in a turbulent Middle East.
The guns of the warring factions changed the face of Lebanon in the hope that one day it would also change the face of the Middle East.
Unknown names of dead bodies leapt up into the Newspapers headlines every morning.
Against us was ranged the perpetual argument propagated by the international press, to add insult to our injuries, that the war was `a fight between Christians and Muslims Lebanese'. This was phoney-baloney and utterly fraudulent. This was offensive, pretending ignorance with nefarious ends. Very few told the world the significant fact that this was a war by proxy. All Lebanese have always been peace-loving people.
With the closure of Beirut's only Airport, many Lebanese, seeking emigration, were virtually driven into the Mediterranean.
Most of the rich had already left.
Hundreds of thousands of my people were displaced from their villages and rolled out heading for more relatively peaceful places.
Lebanese could not understand where the enemy was hiding and fighting.
They all believed though that Lebanon will remain invincible and in the end its banner will be held up high enough to be seen in each corner of this small and beautiful country.
Many young and innocent `boys and girls', some in their teens, had rallied `to the cause' as they saw it.
I witnessed the melting away of Beirut (West) in the hellish days of the summer of 1982, and each 24 hours I though that would probably be the last for me. I managed to send my wife and my three children to the mountain for their security and stay put in Beirut to work for living.
My people were striving to wait in queues to fetch bread, vegetables and water to feed their children. Some even killed by stray bullets, and worse still, many perished by bombs (RPG, B7 or whatever).
Lines of cars were threatened waiting to be filled with petrol.
We saw different militias from all walks of life. From the East and the West, bordering the Arabian Sea, the Red sea, the Bay of Bengal, and the hinterland of Asia - paid to `fight', they didn't even know who the enemy was?. I saw many of them, and I swear to God they couldn't have possibly been Lebanese.
Beirut slept and woke up on the brink of panic but the brave majority never lost faith; they were convinced that our setback was temporary.
We saw how `international politics' were beginning to bolt, without proper explanation we were left alone to suffer, and it was not difficult for us to draw conclusions - we must have been stupid to `welcome every body to our country with open arms and our hearty - and innocent - "ahlan wasahlan" : Welcome.
Mrs. Levin:
Your husband was held `hostage' perhaps in a cell like 10x10 feet. The Lebanese, too, were held hostages in our four thousand square miles, for as long as 17 years.
Your husband didn't deserve his ordeal, nor did the Lebanese people.
Your husband was held hostage in Lebanon, but not by Lebanese. No Lebanese wanted your husband to share our fate.
Nevertheless, on behalf of my people I offer our sincere sympathies and my apologies for any inconvenience this sad event had caused you both (or indeed have caused us all).
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