I spoke on Monocle 24 radio last night about rocket attacks on Lebanon from Syria. The episode is available online here (I come on at 8:20).
Religion; politics; esp. the sordid courtship of one by the other. On a good day, the resistance of same by culture, irony and humour.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Qusayr families flee to new Lebanon camp
[Originally posted at NOW]
Hidden from view behind rows of dark green trees in the verdant farmland surrounding the town of Halba, just 10km from the Syrian border in Lebanon’s far north, dwell the country’s latest refugees from the unrelenting war raging next door. The eighty or so arrivals – mostly women and children – who have sought shelter here in the last four weeks are all residents of Qusayr, fleeing clashes that took an especially fierce turn when regime forces, backed by Lebanese Hezbollah units, launched a major (and ongoing) attempt to conquer the town on May 19. Unusually for Syrian refugees in Lebanon, who typically stay in relatives’ or friends’ homes, these families are housed in tents, comprising an unofficial refugee camp.
Locating the remote camp Thursday with the help of volunteer aid workers, NOW spent an afternoon interviewing the residents, who spoke of violence so horrific that merely surviving the escape to Lebanon was an ordeal.
“We came any way that we could; in cars, trucks, tractors. Accompanied by the Free Syrian Army (FSA), naturally,” said Abdullah, a young man sitting on a thin sponge mattress inside his tent who left Qusayr twenty days ago. “We were under fire from the shabbiha [pro-government militiamen] and Hezbollah.”
Despite living within plain sight of the northeastern Lebanese border, refugees said the presence of Hezbollah forces in the area forced them to make a 40km detour south to the anti-regime town of Arsal, whence they began the longer drive to Halba.
“It took about seven hours on the road,” said Hind, a mother from the village of Zeiteh in another tent sitting with her sister, her mother, and five children. “We were told if the Shiites saw us, they’d either arrest or kill us.”
Having endured two years of warfare – often by relocating to different villages as circumstances required – refugees said it was the unprecedented and terrifying level of violence in recent weeks that compelled them to take flight.
“The destruction there is massive,” said Abdullah. “They’re hitting us with everything; mortars, tanks, MiG fighter jets. There are 100 explosions every minute. They have bombs which can destroy seven houses at a time. Qusayr is just a normal town, what can we do against this?” Air strikes on residential quarters have been frequently captured on video by Qusayr-based activists in recent weeks.
“They’re even using chemical weapons,” says Malik, an elder relative of Abdullah who arrived five days ago. “We’ve seen different colors of smoke – white, yellow, red – with bad smells, and people suffocating.” This echoes a claim made earlier this month by FSA spokesman Louay Almokdad, though no hard evidence has yet emerged to support it.
Despite the regime’s use of such heavy firepower, refugees told NOW the rebels were still holding on to areas of the town and the surrounding countryside.
“It’s back-and-forth,” said Abdullah. “The FSA loses something one day, re-takes it the next.” Relatives still inside the town told him the regime had recently captured a key water station and parts of the al-Dabaa air base. “But the fight is continuing,” he proudly insisted.
Asked what he thought would happen if the town fell entirely to the regime, Abdullah predicted a “humanitarian catastrophe. There are over 30,000 people there, mostly women and children. It’ll be like what happened in Bayda, Baniyas and Houla,” referring to the sites of notorious massacres of civilians. Indeed, UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Navi Pillay has herself voiced fears of a Bayda-style slaughter in the town if rebel forces are overrun.
Even here in the comparative safety of Lebanon, however, the refugees remain afraid – chiefly of the Hezbollah forces for whom they appear to reserve especial hatred.
“[Syrian President] Bashar [al-Assad] is a pig, but [Hezbollah leader Hassan] Nasrallah is a bigger one!” exclaimed Ayesha, a sister of Hind who had been silent until that point. As she spoke, her voice rose to a shout, drawing tears from the leathery eyes of her elderly mother next to her.
“We were living in peace, why did the Party of Satan [a play on Hezbollah’s name, the ‘Party of God’] interfere? We are women and children, what do they want with us? Even the regime left us alone in our homes. Bashar is better than them. Even Israel is more merciful than them.”
Security aside, the refugees naturally face humanitarian difficulties as well. Though the camp infrastructure is quickly improving – a concrete toilet with running water and a kitchen unit have sprung up in the last few days – residents have little besides the tents, mattresses and kitchen utensils that have been donated thus far. And with the heat already reaching baking levels, many complained of sickness. There is even a risk of snake attacks – one two-year-old boy’s forearm bore a deep wound from a venomous bite.
Unaware of the procedure and often without the requisite documentation, not a single refugee has registered with the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR). As such, a small, student-led team of volunteers called Kilna Labaad (‘We’re all for each other’) runs the camp, with funds coming primarily from a wealthy Lebanese individual in Aley.
“We do fundraising events here in Beirut [to supplement the Aley donations],” said Diana Rifai, a Syrian student volunteering with the organization. “We host events for which every ticket bought will provide a monthly food basket for a family, for example, or a children’s box with diapers and baby milk. We also do clothes drives where people can drop off clothes in Beirut.”
The group hopes to have a Facebook page up and running next week. In the meantime, said Rifai, anyone interested in making a donation can contact her via her personal Facebook account.
Some of the above names have been changed at the interviewees’ requests.
Yara Chehayed contributed reporting.
| Syrian children play at a new refugee camp in north Lebanon (NOW/Alex Rowell) |
Hidden from view behind rows of dark green trees in the verdant farmland surrounding the town of Halba, just 10km from the Syrian border in Lebanon’s far north, dwell the country’s latest refugees from the unrelenting war raging next door. The eighty or so arrivals – mostly women and children – who have sought shelter here in the last four weeks are all residents of Qusayr, fleeing clashes that took an especially fierce turn when regime forces, backed by Lebanese Hezbollah units, launched a major (and ongoing) attempt to conquer the town on May 19. Unusually for Syrian refugees in Lebanon, who typically stay in relatives’ or friends’ homes, these families are housed in tents, comprising an unofficial refugee camp.
Locating the remote camp Thursday with the help of volunteer aid workers, NOW spent an afternoon interviewing the residents, who spoke of violence so horrific that merely surviving the escape to Lebanon was an ordeal.
“We came any way that we could; in cars, trucks, tractors. Accompanied by the Free Syrian Army (FSA), naturally,” said Abdullah, a young man sitting on a thin sponge mattress inside his tent who left Qusayr twenty days ago. “We were under fire from the shabbiha [pro-government militiamen] and Hezbollah.”
Despite living within plain sight of the northeastern Lebanese border, refugees said the presence of Hezbollah forces in the area forced them to make a 40km detour south to the anti-regime town of Arsal, whence they began the longer drive to Halba.
“It took about seven hours on the road,” said Hind, a mother from the village of Zeiteh in another tent sitting with her sister, her mother, and five children. “We were told if the Shiites saw us, they’d either arrest or kill us.”
Having endured two years of warfare – often by relocating to different villages as circumstances required – refugees said it was the unprecedented and terrifying level of violence in recent weeks that compelled them to take flight.
“The destruction there is massive,” said Abdullah. “They’re hitting us with everything; mortars, tanks, MiG fighter jets. There are 100 explosions every minute. They have bombs which can destroy seven houses at a time. Qusayr is just a normal town, what can we do against this?” Air strikes on residential quarters have been frequently captured on video by Qusayr-based activists in recent weeks.
“They’re even using chemical weapons,” says Malik, an elder relative of Abdullah who arrived five days ago. “We’ve seen different colors of smoke – white, yellow, red – with bad smells, and people suffocating.” This echoes a claim made earlier this month by FSA spokesman Louay Almokdad, though no hard evidence has yet emerged to support it.
Despite the regime’s use of such heavy firepower, refugees told NOW the rebels were still holding on to areas of the town and the surrounding countryside.
“It’s back-and-forth,” said Abdullah. “The FSA loses something one day, re-takes it the next.” Relatives still inside the town told him the regime had recently captured a key water station and parts of the al-Dabaa air base. “But the fight is continuing,” he proudly insisted.
Asked what he thought would happen if the town fell entirely to the regime, Abdullah predicted a “humanitarian catastrophe. There are over 30,000 people there, mostly women and children. It’ll be like what happened in Bayda, Baniyas and Houla,” referring to the sites of notorious massacres of civilians. Indeed, UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Navi Pillay has herself voiced fears of a Bayda-style slaughter in the town if rebel forces are overrun.
Even here in the comparative safety of Lebanon, however, the refugees remain afraid – chiefly of the Hezbollah forces for whom they appear to reserve especial hatred.
“[Syrian President] Bashar [al-Assad] is a pig, but [Hezbollah leader Hassan] Nasrallah is a bigger one!” exclaimed Ayesha, a sister of Hind who had been silent until that point. As she spoke, her voice rose to a shout, drawing tears from the leathery eyes of her elderly mother next to her.
“We were living in peace, why did the Party of Satan [a play on Hezbollah’s name, the ‘Party of God’] interfere? We are women and children, what do they want with us? Even the regime left us alone in our homes. Bashar is better than them. Even Israel is more merciful than them.”
Security aside, the refugees naturally face humanitarian difficulties as well. Though the camp infrastructure is quickly improving – a concrete toilet with running water and a kitchen unit have sprung up in the last few days – residents have little besides the tents, mattresses and kitchen utensils that have been donated thus far. And with the heat already reaching baking levels, many complained of sickness. There is even a risk of snake attacks – one two-year-old boy’s forearm bore a deep wound from a venomous bite.
Unaware of the procedure and often without the requisite documentation, not a single refugee has registered with the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR). As such, a small, student-led team of volunteers called Kilna Labaad (‘We’re all for each other’) runs the camp, with funds coming primarily from a wealthy Lebanese individual in Aley.
“We do fundraising events here in Beirut [to supplement the Aley donations],” said Diana Rifai, a Syrian student volunteering with the organization. “We host events for which every ticket bought will provide a monthly food basket for a family, for example, or a children’s box with diapers and baby milk. We also do clothes drives where people can drop off clothes in Beirut.”
The group hopes to have a Facebook page up and running next week. In the meantime, said Rifai, anyone interested in making a donation can contact her via her personal Facebook account.
Some of the above names have been changed at the interviewees’ requests.
Yara Chehayed contributed reporting.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
In Dahiyeh, fear breeds loathing
[Originally posted at NOW]
Driving through the gridlocked traffic of Beirut’s southern suburbs Tuesday afternoon, two days after a pair of 107mm Grad rockets struck the neighborhood wounding four Syrian workers, not much looked different except perhaps an increase in the number of “martyr” posters. Despite reports of local Hezbollah militants deploying on street corners and setting up checkpoints following the attacks, NOW saw no evidence during a comprehensive tour of the so-called Dahiyeh (“suburb”) – the sole gunman in sight was a plain-clothed security guard outside the Bahman Hospital in Haret Hreik.
However, there was one novel phenomenon detectable in the minds of Dahiyeh residents – suspicion of, and even bigotry against Syrians.
At a red traffic light in Ghobeiry, a young boy around the age of 10 approached the driver’s window trying to sell some goods. “Where are you from?” asked NOW’s guide, Hussein, a forty-something former Amal militant now employed at the Council for the South. “Syria,” replied the boy. “F*** your sister!” grunted Hussein, turning away in disgust.
“They’re dirty people,” he explained as we drove off. “If I could, I would run them all over with my car.”
Dislike for Syrians – which has been on the rise in Dahiyeh ever since the armed conflict began next door – appears to have reached new levels after Sunday’s rockets, widely believed to have been launched by Syrian rebel brigades. According to civil society activist and Dahiyeh resident Lokman Slim, Syrians were subject to various forms of harassment in the hours following the attacks.
“Youngsters took to the streets with their walkie-talkies and accosted those suspected to be Syrian. They checked their phones, checked their IDs, and asked them where they were living,” Slim told NOW.
Hussein said much the same, adding that Hezbollah was keeping a very close watch on Dahiyeh’s Syrian residents, even asking them if they were for or against the Assad regime.
In part, these measures are being undertaken out of fear. Syrian rebel brigades have already launched multiple rocket strikes on pro-Hezbollah areas in the northeastern Beqaa Valley, one of which killed a teenage girl on Monday. The rebels have also repeatedly threatened to extend these strikes to Dahiyeh.
“People support these security measures, because if we’re targeted again, we might die,” said Hussein. “Syrians here are going in and out of Syria all the time. You never know who could be with the opposition.”
Hussein insisted that locals were not spooked by Sunday’s attacks, though he admitted there were quiet worries of something more major to come.
“Two rockets is not a big deal for us, we survived much worse from the Israelis. The feeling in the area is no different today than it was before the rockets. But, of course, if something bigger happens, like car bombs or gunmen in the streets, that’s another matter.”
Security concerns aside, the mounting ill-will against Syrians has evidently taken on a sectarian dimension as well.
“Alawite Syrians are obviously fine. It’s only the Sunnis we have a problem with,” said Abbas, a young resident whose house was just one block from where one of the rockets fell.
This sectarianism, in turn, appears to be fuelled by recent battles in the Syrian town of Qusayr, where Hezbollah has been in open conflict with Syrian rebels, the latter of whom are largely seen in Dahiyeh as Sunni extremists. Indeed, the Qusayr fighting seems to be at the forefront of the community’s attention, dominating café chatter and online discourse. As we drove through Dahiyeh, passing the countless “martyr” photos plastered on lampposts and balconies, Hussein would note each one that was killed in Qusayr.
“There’s no such thing as the Syrian ‘revolutionaries,’ they’re terrorists,” he told NOW. “They have problems in their brains. It’s not Islam, what they think. They behead people with no political agenda, killing and terrorism are their only goals. The fighter who eats the heart of a dead person is not a revolutionary, in Islam we cannot touch the body of a dead person. It’s haram [forbidden].”
The conversation turned distinctly theological when Hussein defended Hezbollah’s fighting in Qusayr.
“A big majority of Shiites think what Hezbollah is doing is a religious duty. It prepares the return of the Mahdi and the signs of his return, and this is the core of Hezbollah’s ideology. So the jihad in Qusayr is a duty.”
Such rhetoric is perhaps illustrative of what Slim described as Hezbollah’s steering of Syria-related events to its own political advantage.
“[The Sunday attacks] led people in Dahiyeh to swing between fear, questioning, and seeking a protector. And, of course, the protector can’t be any other entity but Hezbollah. But [hostility toward Syrians] is not only caused by the shelling of Dahiyeh, it’s caused by [Hezbollah’s] propaganda machine which is focusing on the wrong deeds of some FSA elements.”
In the longer run, when the Syrian war is over, Slim believes, the Shiite community may come to resent the relatively high death toll incurred as a result of the Qusayr fighting. “People are mourning the boys,” he said.
Hussein, indeed, lamented the “mistakes” he said were made by the Party on the military front.
“The fighters being sent to Qusayr are too young, they’re too ill-prepared. The Syrians have dug trenches and are using them well, sniping the Hezbollah fighters first in the legs and then in the head.”
“Hezbollah sent them to war as if it was just a football game.”
Some of the above names have been changed at the interviewees’ requests.
Racha El-Amin and Yara Chehayed contributed reporting.
Driving through the gridlocked traffic of Beirut’s southern suburbs Tuesday afternoon, two days after a pair of 107mm Grad rockets struck the neighborhood wounding four Syrian workers, not much looked different except perhaps an increase in the number of “martyr” posters. Despite reports of local Hezbollah militants deploying on street corners and setting up checkpoints following the attacks, NOW saw no evidence during a comprehensive tour of the so-called Dahiyeh (“suburb”) – the sole gunman in sight was a plain-clothed security guard outside the Bahman Hospital in Haret Hreik.
However, there was one novel phenomenon detectable in the minds of Dahiyeh residents – suspicion of, and even bigotry against Syrians.
At a red traffic light in Ghobeiry, a young boy around the age of 10 approached the driver’s window trying to sell some goods. “Where are you from?” asked NOW’s guide, Hussein, a forty-something former Amal militant now employed at the Council for the South. “Syria,” replied the boy. “F*** your sister!” grunted Hussein, turning away in disgust.
“They’re dirty people,” he explained as we drove off. “If I could, I would run them all over with my car.”
Dislike for Syrians – which has been on the rise in Dahiyeh ever since the armed conflict began next door – appears to have reached new levels after Sunday’s rockets, widely believed to have been launched by Syrian rebel brigades. According to civil society activist and Dahiyeh resident Lokman Slim, Syrians were subject to various forms of harassment in the hours following the attacks.
“Youngsters took to the streets with their walkie-talkies and accosted those suspected to be Syrian. They checked their phones, checked their IDs, and asked them where they were living,” Slim told NOW.
Hussein said much the same, adding that Hezbollah was keeping a very close watch on Dahiyeh’s Syrian residents, even asking them if they were for or against the Assad regime.
In part, these measures are being undertaken out of fear. Syrian rebel brigades have already launched multiple rocket strikes on pro-Hezbollah areas in the northeastern Beqaa Valley, one of which killed a teenage girl on Monday. The rebels have also repeatedly threatened to extend these strikes to Dahiyeh.
“People support these security measures, because if we’re targeted again, we might die,” said Hussein. “Syrians here are going in and out of Syria all the time. You never know who could be with the opposition.”
Hussein insisted that locals were not spooked by Sunday’s attacks, though he admitted there were quiet worries of something more major to come.
“Two rockets is not a big deal for us, we survived much worse from the Israelis. The feeling in the area is no different today than it was before the rockets. But, of course, if something bigger happens, like car bombs or gunmen in the streets, that’s another matter.”
Security concerns aside, the mounting ill-will against Syrians has evidently taken on a sectarian dimension as well.
“Alawite Syrians are obviously fine. It’s only the Sunnis we have a problem with,” said Abbas, a young resident whose house was just one block from where one of the rockets fell.
This sectarianism, in turn, appears to be fuelled by recent battles in the Syrian town of Qusayr, where Hezbollah has been in open conflict with Syrian rebels, the latter of whom are largely seen in Dahiyeh as Sunni extremists. Indeed, the Qusayr fighting seems to be at the forefront of the community’s attention, dominating café chatter and online discourse. As we drove through Dahiyeh, passing the countless “martyr” photos plastered on lampposts and balconies, Hussein would note each one that was killed in Qusayr.
“There’s no such thing as the Syrian ‘revolutionaries,’ they’re terrorists,” he told NOW. “They have problems in their brains. It’s not Islam, what they think. They behead people with no political agenda, killing and terrorism are their only goals. The fighter who eats the heart of a dead person is not a revolutionary, in Islam we cannot touch the body of a dead person. It’s haram [forbidden].”
The conversation turned distinctly theological when Hussein defended Hezbollah’s fighting in Qusayr.
“A big majority of Shiites think what Hezbollah is doing is a religious duty. It prepares the return of the Mahdi and the signs of his return, and this is the core of Hezbollah’s ideology. So the jihad in Qusayr is a duty.”
Such rhetoric is perhaps illustrative of what Slim described as Hezbollah’s steering of Syria-related events to its own political advantage.
“[The Sunday attacks] led people in Dahiyeh to swing between fear, questioning, and seeking a protector. And, of course, the protector can’t be any other entity but Hezbollah. But [hostility toward Syrians] is not only caused by the shelling of Dahiyeh, it’s caused by [Hezbollah’s] propaganda machine which is focusing on the wrong deeds of some FSA elements.”
In the longer run, when the Syrian war is over, Slim believes, the Shiite community may come to resent the relatively high death toll incurred as a result of the Qusayr fighting. “People are mourning the boys,” he said.
Hussein, indeed, lamented the “mistakes” he said were made by the Party on the military front.
“The fighters being sent to Qusayr are too young, they’re too ill-prepared. The Syrians have dug trenches and are using them well, sniping the Hezbollah fighters first in the legs and then in the head.”
“Hezbollah sent them to war as if it was just a football game.”
Some of the above names have been changed at the interviewees’ requests.
Racha El-Amin and Yara Chehayed contributed reporting.
Speaking on BBC World Service: 'Can supplying weapons [in Syria] lead to peace?'
I spoke on the BBC World Service's 'World Have Your Say' programme last night, on the topic: 'Can supplying weapons [in Syria] lead to peace?' You can listen here (I come on at around 40:40).
Labels:
Aarsal,
BBC,
Beirut,
Dahiyeh,
Free Syria Army,
Hermel,
Hizbullah,
Iran,
Jabhat al-Nusra,
Lebanon,
Syria
Friday, May 24, 2013
Omar Bakri: Woolwich killer was my student
[Originally posted at NOW]
Tripoli-based Salafist cleric Sheikh Omar Bakri alleged in an interview with NOW on Friday that one of the suspected murderers of a British soldier in Woolwich, London, on Wednesday was a student of his during his time as leader of the now-banned British Islamist party, Al-Muhajiroun.
“I came across [28-year-old Michael Adebolajo] between 2003 and 2004. He used to come and study in [Al-Muhajiroun’s] open circles and seminars, and participate in demonstrations. He was not a member of Al-Muhajiroun but he used to come to our public events,” Bakri told NOW.
Bakri described the British-born convert from Christianity to Islam as a mild-mannered person who did not appear inclined to violence.
“He used to be very quiet, very shy. He used to ask about Islam, about how to pray, how to fast, and he used to ask about the Muslim umma in general. He was not really coming for the sake of carrying out operations, I was shocked when I saw that footage.”
Despite Adebolajo’s affiliation with Al-Muhajiroun – banned by the British government in 2010 for alleged involvement in terrorism – Bakri believes he was acting in an individual capacity, rather than under orders from the group’s members.
“Al-Muhajiroun had schools, colleges, a shari’a court, it was an association, not really a school to train people to fight. And I dissolved it in March 2004. If [violence] is really what I teach people, I have 2,000 Muslims there, so are you saying 2,000 students around the UK are all going to become like Michael? It seems to me he believed in an individual form of Jihad, he was responsible for his own actions and in that footage he stated clearly why he carried out that attack. It was in response to the British foreign policies in Afghanistan and Iraq, and he made it clear, he was so firm, so courageous.”
“He did not run away from the scene, he stood firm with the blood of that British soldier on his hands, believing he attacked a British soldier who is not a civilian, believing he did it in reaction to what that soldier is involved himself in Afghanistan and Iraq as a part of the Cobra special British forces.”
Bakri added that Adebolajo should not be prosecuted for the killing, which he sees as legitimate.
“I do not condemn what he did. I believe what he did has an Islamic justification, though I maybe [would] not carry [it out] that myself, but people have different opinions, different interpretations.”
Adebolajo was arrested along with 22-year-old Michael Adebowale on suspicion of murdering British soldier Lee Rigby in a dramatic, broad-daylight knife attack.
Bakri, of Syrian birth, was a prominent Islamist cleric in London in the 1990s and early 2000s before being banned from the United Kingdom in 2005, after which he moved to Lebanon.
Tripoli-based Salafist cleric Sheikh Omar Bakri alleged in an interview with NOW on Friday that one of the suspected murderers of a British soldier in Woolwich, London, on Wednesday was a student of his during his time as leader of the now-banned British Islamist party, Al-Muhajiroun.
“I came across [28-year-old Michael Adebolajo] between 2003 and 2004. He used to come and study in [Al-Muhajiroun’s] open circles and seminars, and participate in demonstrations. He was not a member of Al-Muhajiroun but he used to come to our public events,” Bakri told NOW.
Bakri described the British-born convert from Christianity to Islam as a mild-mannered person who did not appear inclined to violence.
“He used to be very quiet, very shy. He used to ask about Islam, about how to pray, how to fast, and he used to ask about the Muslim umma in general. He was not really coming for the sake of carrying out operations, I was shocked when I saw that footage.”
Despite Adebolajo’s affiliation with Al-Muhajiroun – banned by the British government in 2010 for alleged involvement in terrorism – Bakri believes he was acting in an individual capacity, rather than under orders from the group’s members.
“Al-Muhajiroun had schools, colleges, a shari’a court, it was an association, not really a school to train people to fight. And I dissolved it in March 2004. If [violence] is really what I teach people, I have 2,000 Muslims there, so are you saying 2,000 students around the UK are all going to become like Michael? It seems to me he believed in an individual form of Jihad, he was responsible for his own actions and in that footage he stated clearly why he carried out that attack. It was in response to the British foreign policies in Afghanistan and Iraq, and he made it clear, he was so firm, so courageous.”
“He did not run away from the scene, he stood firm with the blood of that British soldier on his hands, believing he attacked a British soldier who is not a civilian, believing he did it in reaction to what that soldier is involved himself in Afghanistan and Iraq as a part of the Cobra special British forces.”
Bakri added that Adebolajo should not be prosecuted for the killing, which he sees as legitimate.
“I do not condemn what he did. I believe what he did has an Islamic justification, though I maybe [would] not carry [it out] that myself, but people have different opinions, different interpretations.”
Adebolajo was arrested along with 22-year-old Michael Adebowale on suspicion of murdering British soldier Lee Rigby in a dramatic, broad-daylight knife attack.
Bakri, of Syrian birth, was a prominent Islamist cleric in London in the 1990s and early 2000s before being banned from the United Kingdom in 2005, after which he moved to Lebanon.
Young Hezbollah critic banished from village
[Originally posted at NOW]
In the Ashrafieh apartment currently serving as her unofficial safe house, Marwa Olleik talks with a mix of pain and defiance as she recalls the series of events that forced her to flee her lifelong home on Wednesday. With her nose piercing, tattooed forearm, and unveiled hair, the 20 year-old journalism student doesn’t exactly fit the stereotype of the south Lebanese village girl. Yet it isn’t her looks, but her opinions – in particular, her support for the Syrian uprising and criticism of local hero Hezbollah’s interventions against it – that have brought the powerful wrath of her community upon her.
“From the very first day the Syrian revolution began, I was with it,” she tells NOW. “I’m with any people that choose to revolt to demand their freedom. I didn’t care about the politics, or the history, my thought was always: If the people want to change the regime, I’m with them. If tomorrow they want to revolt against the Free Syrian Army, I’ll be with them too. So for months I’ve been writing messages like these, supporting the revolution, on Facebook.”
At first, Olleik says nobody in Yahmur, her village situated about 10km south of Nabatieh, minded her online commentary. But as Hezbollah’s military assistance to the Assad regime grew more apparent, her criticism sharpened, and she began to receive intimidating messages from fake accounts.
“People would tell me I was shaming the honor of the village, and of the Shiites, and they would use terrible insults against me, calling me the whore of Sheikh [Adnan] al-Arour and Ahmad al-Assir, and much worse,” she says. But the turning point came last Sunday, when Hezbollah began its widely-publicized attack on the Syrian town of Qusayr.
“When Hezbollah went into Qusayr, I immediately started posting comments and photos, asking what they were going there for, especially since in Nabatieh every day I would see two or three bodies returning. People told me I was insulting Sayyida Zeinab [the granddaughter of the Prophet, highly revered in Shiite Islam]. So on Monday I wrote a post saying that insulting Sayyida Zeinab a thousand times is more merciful than killing one Syrian child.”
It seems to have been that comment in particular that brought the local community’s anger to a boiling point. As the online abuse poured in, her father – himself a more-or-less orthodox Hezbollah partisan – allegedly began to receive phone calls from local party affiliates, urging him to make his daughter publicly retract her comments. For the sake of her father’s safety and reputation, Olleik says she did post an apology. However, by then the point of no return had already been crossed.
En route to university in Beirut the following morning, Olleik received a phone call from her distressed mother, who had been staying at the family’s second house in Nabatieh. “She told me she found a sign stuck to the wall outside the house, saying ‘Don’t think of returning [to Yahmur].’” Ignoring the warning, her mother had driven to their Yahmur home to find that the contents of the front porch had been set ablaze overnight.
On Thursday morning, NOW paid a visit to Yahmur, a picturesque village in the fertile plains at the feet of the crusader-era Shqeef Castle, which also happens to be a mere 5km from the Israeli border. Like almost all villages in the south, the flags flying on its lampposts alternate between those of Hezbollah and the Amal Movement. A large billboard bearing the faces of Iranian Grand Ayatollahs Khomeini and Khamenei greets visitors at the Husseiniyah [Shiite worship place] in the village center. The few women walking around either donned the hijab or the more conservative chador.
The Olleik home – a traditional single-story villa of off-white stone with a spacious garden – was empty when NOW arrived, but the damage from Tuesday’s arson attack was plainly visible. A tablecloth and accompanying chairs on the patio were damaged and charred black from what had clearly been a small fire.
Local residents at the grocery store across the street had mixed views of the overall episode. “It’s nothing, it’s just a dispute between youths,” insisted one, who did not give his name. “The guys who started the fire are known troublemakers; they smoke arguileh and drink juice all day. In my personal opinion, Marwa should just come back.”
Another resident, who claimed to be a cousin of Olleik’s, butted in to interrupt. “No. She can’t. It’s forbidden. She insulted Sayyida Zeinab, there’s no way we can allow this.”
A third man appeared to agree. Asked how many people lived in Yahmur, he replied, “Five thousand. Actually, 4,999 now.” The others snickered.
“Everything is over in any case,” said the first man. “A Hezbollah man met with her parents and resolved the issue.” He did not elaborate.
Olleik, however, had already described this encounter to NOW. “The rabit [local Hezbollah official] came to our house and told my mother I can’t go back and I have to immediately publish an apology, although I already had done so. He said that this time they burnt the porch, but next time they’d burn the whole house.”
“And if one Hezbollah fighter is martyred from Yahmur, he said they’d kill me.” When asked for comment, Hezbollah press spokesman Ibrahim Mousawi told NOW he had not heard anything about the incident.
A nagging question for Olleik is why the reaction to her comments became suddenly so hostile this week, when for months she had railed against the party with no repercussions. She speculates it’s due to the widespread condemnation the party has faced since launching its Qusayr offensive.
“Hezbollah is losing support even from Shiites because of Syria, so they want to silence criticism. For example, the other day a woman came to my mother, crying and cursing the party because her son had just been sent to fight in Syria. At the recent funerals for fighters, too, many of the mothers have been angry for what Hezbollah has done.”
There also remains the question of what Olleik will now do. Her family, she says, has no intention of taking legal action against the assailants, believing it to be a lost cause. Her cousin Rami, who accompanied her during NOW’s interview (and who is himself an outspoken critic of Hezbollah, despite formerly being a party member – a transformation he details in his recent book, ‘The Bees Road') said, “The situation is still boiling for now, but she should go back - maybe even this weekend.”
Olleik, however, seems to have other ideas.
“There’s no going back to Nabatieh for me. My reputation is ruined, I would have no life. Maybe I’ll live here in Beirut by myself, or my parents will move here. I don’t know.”
“But returning to Nabatieh is not an option.”
Yara Chehayed contributed reporting.
Arson attack and death threats force south Lebanon girl into hiding.
![]() |
| Note posted on Marwa Olleik's Nabatieh home reads "Don't think of returning" (Sent to NOW by Olleik) |
In the Ashrafieh apartment currently serving as her unofficial safe house, Marwa Olleik talks with a mix of pain and defiance as she recalls the series of events that forced her to flee her lifelong home on Wednesday. With her nose piercing, tattooed forearm, and unveiled hair, the 20 year-old journalism student doesn’t exactly fit the stereotype of the south Lebanese village girl. Yet it isn’t her looks, but her opinions – in particular, her support for the Syrian uprising and criticism of local hero Hezbollah’s interventions against it – that have brought the powerful wrath of her community upon her.
“From the very first day the Syrian revolution began, I was with it,” she tells NOW. “I’m with any people that choose to revolt to demand their freedom. I didn’t care about the politics, or the history, my thought was always: If the people want to change the regime, I’m with them. If tomorrow they want to revolt against the Free Syrian Army, I’ll be with them too. So for months I’ve been writing messages like these, supporting the revolution, on Facebook.”
At first, Olleik says nobody in Yahmur, her village situated about 10km south of Nabatieh, minded her online commentary. But as Hezbollah’s military assistance to the Assad regime grew more apparent, her criticism sharpened, and she began to receive intimidating messages from fake accounts.
“People would tell me I was shaming the honor of the village, and of the Shiites, and they would use terrible insults against me, calling me the whore of Sheikh [Adnan] al-Arour and Ahmad al-Assir, and much worse,” she says. But the turning point came last Sunday, when Hezbollah began its widely-publicized attack on the Syrian town of Qusayr.
“When Hezbollah went into Qusayr, I immediately started posting comments and photos, asking what they were going there for, especially since in Nabatieh every day I would see two or three bodies returning. People told me I was insulting Sayyida Zeinab [the granddaughter of the Prophet, highly revered in Shiite Islam]. So on Monday I wrote a post saying that insulting Sayyida Zeinab a thousand times is more merciful than killing one Syrian child.”
It seems to have been that comment in particular that brought the local community’s anger to a boiling point. As the online abuse poured in, her father – himself a more-or-less orthodox Hezbollah partisan – allegedly began to receive phone calls from local party affiliates, urging him to make his daughter publicly retract her comments. For the sake of her father’s safety and reputation, Olleik says she did post an apology. However, by then the point of no return had already been crossed.
En route to university in Beirut the following morning, Olleik received a phone call from her distressed mother, who had been staying at the family’s second house in Nabatieh. “She told me she found a sign stuck to the wall outside the house, saying ‘Don’t think of returning [to Yahmur].’” Ignoring the warning, her mother had driven to their Yahmur home to find that the contents of the front porch had been set ablaze overnight.
On Thursday morning, NOW paid a visit to Yahmur, a picturesque village in the fertile plains at the feet of the crusader-era Shqeef Castle, which also happens to be a mere 5km from the Israeli border. Like almost all villages in the south, the flags flying on its lampposts alternate between those of Hezbollah and the Amal Movement. A large billboard bearing the faces of Iranian Grand Ayatollahs Khomeini and Khamenei greets visitors at the Husseiniyah [Shiite worship place] in the village center. The few women walking around either donned the hijab or the more conservative chador.
The Olleik home – a traditional single-story villa of off-white stone with a spacious garden – was empty when NOW arrived, but the damage from Tuesday’s arson attack was plainly visible. A tablecloth and accompanying chairs on the patio were damaged and charred black from what had clearly been a small fire.
Local residents at the grocery store across the street had mixed views of the overall episode. “It’s nothing, it’s just a dispute between youths,” insisted one, who did not give his name. “The guys who started the fire are known troublemakers; they smoke arguileh and drink juice all day. In my personal opinion, Marwa should just come back.”
Another resident, who claimed to be a cousin of Olleik’s, butted in to interrupt. “No. She can’t. It’s forbidden. She insulted Sayyida Zeinab, there’s no way we can allow this.”
A third man appeared to agree. Asked how many people lived in Yahmur, he replied, “Five thousand. Actually, 4,999 now.” The others snickered.
“Everything is over in any case,” said the first man. “A Hezbollah man met with her parents and resolved the issue.” He did not elaborate.
Olleik, however, had already described this encounter to NOW. “The rabit [local Hezbollah official] came to our house and told my mother I can’t go back and I have to immediately publish an apology, although I already had done so. He said that this time they burnt the porch, but next time they’d burn the whole house.”
“And if one Hezbollah fighter is martyred from Yahmur, he said they’d kill me.” When asked for comment, Hezbollah press spokesman Ibrahim Mousawi told NOW he had not heard anything about the incident.
A nagging question for Olleik is why the reaction to her comments became suddenly so hostile this week, when for months she had railed against the party with no repercussions. She speculates it’s due to the widespread condemnation the party has faced since launching its Qusayr offensive.
“Hezbollah is losing support even from Shiites because of Syria, so they want to silence criticism. For example, the other day a woman came to my mother, crying and cursing the party because her son had just been sent to fight in Syria. At the recent funerals for fighters, too, many of the mothers have been angry for what Hezbollah has done.”
There also remains the question of what Olleik will now do. Her family, she says, has no intention of taking legal action against the assailants, believing it to be a lost cause. Her cousin Rami, who accompanied her during NOW’s interview (and who is himself an outspoken critic of Hezbollah, despite formerly being a party member – a transformation he details in his recent book, ‘The Bees Road') said, “The situation is still boiling for now, but she should go back - maybe even this weekend.”
Olleik, however, seems to have other ideas.
“There’s no going back to Nabatieh for me. My reputation is ruined, I would have no life. Maybe I’ll live here in Beirut by myself, or my parents will move here. I don’t know.”
“But returning to Nabatieh is not an option.”
Yara Chehayed contributed reporting.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Fresh anti-Hezbollah protests in Martyrs Square
[Originally posted at NOW]
Downtown Beirut’s symbolic Martyrs Square was once again the scene of Syria-related protest Tuesday evening, as around 50 Lebanese and Syrian demonstrators gathered to condemn Hezbollah’s military intervention in the Syrian conflict.
Carrying ‘Free Syria’ flags and placards expressing solidarity with Qusayr, the rebel-held Syrian town (currently facing a major assault from Hezbollah units in conjunction with regime forces), the demonstrators chanted “curse your soul, Hafez [al-Assad]” and “come on, step down Bashar/Hezbollah.” Fliers also played on the Party of God’s insignia, changing the word “Hezbollah” to “hurriyah,” or “freedom.”
Unlike similar demonstrations that broke out at Martyrs Square in the earlier stages of the Syrian uprising, there was no counter-protest from supporters of Assad and Hezbollah. “They’re probably busy fighting in Syria,” quipped Abdallah Haddad, a financial consultant who told NOW he had showed up to protest what he saw as Hezbollah’s dragging Lebanon into the conflict next door.
“We’ve come here to condemn Hezbollah’s intervention in Syria and in Damascus, but especially in Qusayr,” said Taher, a Lebanese demonstrator who preferred not to disclose his surname. “We would like our prime minister and president to take a clear stance against this intervention,” he told NOW.
While Haddad, Taher, and many other attendees were Lebanese, it was in fact Syrians who made up the majority of protestors – a pleasant surprise, said organizers, given the fears Syrians often have of the Lebanese authorities.
“I’m Syrian,” said protestor Muayyad al-Bunni. “We felt we should do something because we heard that Hezbollah is now killing our brothers in Syria. We are in Lebanon, Hezbollah’s country, so we decided to make our voices heard.”
Like everyone else, al-Bunni told NOW it was the Qusayr clashes in particular that sparked the outrage that fuelled the protest.
“Hezbollah has been helping the regime since the beginning of the revolution but now it’s doing so with its soldiers, and that’s something really shocking.”
The event was organized on Facebook by a mix of students and professionals of diverse political and religious backgrounds, according to Karim, an organizer who preferred not to disclose his surname due to fears of repercussions from his predominantly pro-Amal neighbors. Karim added that attendance would likely have been much higher had the event’s Facebook page not been hacked earlier in the day, leading hundreds of pledged attendees to believe it had been cancelled. Who did he think hacked the page, NOW asked? “Shabbiha,” he replied, half-jokingly using the catch-all term for Assad supporters.
“You cannot be with a dictator against his people,” Karim replied when asked why he decided to organize the protest. “We wanted to denounce Hezbollah’s one-sided military intervention in Syria and say, as Lebanese, that we do not accept what they are doing and this does not represent us. This bypasses not only our constitution but our sense of liberty, and everything that Lebanon is supposed to stand for.”
NOW asked why organizers had chosen this particular moment to protest, when Hezbollah’s involvement in Syria had been an open secret for some time. “I admit it is late, it should have been done earlier,” said Karim. “But it turned out to be the peak now because they were almost reaching Qusayr and we thought if we didn’t speak out now – I mean, on a personal level, if I did not speak out today, I would have felt guilty about it if the Syrian revolution failed. So it’s a stand we should take first of all from an ethical perspective and second as a political position.”
Karim further argued that it was in Lebanon’s self-interest to support the Syrian revolution, given the historic influence wielded by Damascus in Lebanese affairs.
“The Lebanese and Syrian people are in this together. Their freedom is our freedom.”
| Lebanese and Syrian demonstrators gather under the symbolic Martyrs Statue to protest Hezbollah's military involvement in Syria (NOW/Alex Rowell) |
Downtown Beirut’s symbolic Martyrs Square was once again the scene of Syria-related protest Tuesday evening, as around 50 Lebanese and Syrian demonstrators gathered to condemn Hezbollah’s military intervention in the Syrian conflict.
Carrying ‘Free Syria’ flags and placards expressing solidarity with Qusayr, the rebel-held Syrian town (currently facing a major assault from Hezbollah units in conjunction with regime forces), the demonstrators chanted “curse your soul, Hafez [al-Assad]” and “come on, step down Bashar/Hezbollah.” Fliers also played on the Party of God’s insignia, changing the word “Hezbollah” to “hurriyah,” or “freedom.”
Unlike similar demonstrations that broke out at Martyrs Square in the earlier stages of the Syrian uprising, there was no counter-protest from supporters of Assad and Hezbollah. “They’re probably busy fighting in Syria,” quipped Abdallah Haddad, a financial consultant who told NOW he had showed up to protest what he saw as Hezbollah’s dragging Lebanon into the conflict next door.
“We’ve come here to condemn Hezbollah’s intervention in Syria and in Damascus, but especially in Qusayr,” said Taher, a Lebanese demonstrator who preferred not to disclose his surname. “We would like our prime minister and president to take a clear stance against this intervention,” he told NOW.
While Haddad, Taher, and many other attendees were Lebanese, it was in fact Syrians who made up the majority of protestors – a pleasant surprise, said organizers, given the fears Syrians often have of the Lebanese authorities.
“I’m Syrian,” said protestor Muayyad al-Bunni. “We felt we should do something because we heard that Hezbollah is now killing our brothers in Syria. We are in Lebanon, Hezbollah’s country, so we decided to make our voices heard.”
Like everyone else, al-Bunni told NOW it was the Qusayr clashes in particular that sparked the outrage that fuelled the protest.
“Hezbollah has been helping the regime since the beginning of the revolution but now it’s doing so with its soldiers, and that’s something really shocking.”
The event was organized on Facebook by a mix of students and professionals of diverse political and religious backgrounds, according to Karim, an organizer who preferred not to disclose his surname due to fears of repercussions from his predominantly pro-Amal neighbors. Karim added that attendance would likely have been much higher had the event’s Facebook page not been hacked earlier in the day, leading hundreds of pledged attendees to believe it had been cancelled. Who did he think hacked the page, NOW asked? “Shabbiha,” he replied, half-jokingly using the catch-all term for Assad supporters.
“You cannot be with a dictator against his people,” Karim replied when asked why he decided to organize the protest. “We wanted to denounce Hezbollah’s one-sided military intervention in Syria and say, as Lebanese, that we do not accept what they are doing and this does not represent us. This bypasses not only our constitution but our sense of liberty, and everything that Lebanon is supposed to stand for.”
NOW asked why organizers had chosen this particular moment to protest, when Hezbollah’s involvement in Syria had been an open secret for some time. “I admit it is late, it should have been done earlier,” said Karim. “But it turned out to be the peak now because they were almost reaching Qusayr and we thought if we didn’t speak out now – I mean, on a personal level, if I did not speak out today, I would have felt guilty about it if the Syrian revolution failed. So it’s a stand we should take first of all from an ethical perspective and second as a political position.”
Karim further argued that it was in Lebanon’s self-interest to support the Syrian revolution, given the historic influence wielded by Damascus in Lebanese affairs.
“The Lebanese and Syrian people are in this together. Their freedom is our freedom.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
