Stench

For many looking at their government, it’s the vile odor of corruption wafting from the halls of the presidential palace or various parliamentary orifices. For others, it’s really the sickening smell of uncollected garbage, decaying infrastructure, and abandoned buildings damaged beyond repair. Detroit is our poster child for the latter, but what happens when it’s not just a city that stops working, but an entire country?

Lebanon, a country where I spent over four years as a teenaged-son of a U.S. diplomat, falls directly into this category. Yes, there are strongholds and factions, each with their local leaders, armed enforcers and some form of bully-driven administrative capacity. Sunnis have their enclaves as do Shiites and Christians (mostly Maronites) plus a few with other minorities. There’re lots of sub-factions, and often battles for power erupt within these enclaves as well.

“Crowded into a strip of land smaller than Connecticut, Lebanon’s 4.2 million people are divided into 18 recognized religious sects and represented by an array of political parties, most of which have strong sectarian affiliations. Party leaders act as political bosses for their communities, dispensing jobs and patronage while striking deals with other leaders to serve their common interests.” New York Times, January 28^th. Sometimes these factions go it alone, and sometimes alliances (most shaky and temporary) form and fall apart. The very system of Lebanese government, “confessionalism,” was designed in an era when Christians held the majority (long gone), Sunnis held second place, and Shiites, Druze and the like trailed behind. The President must be a Christian, the Prime Minister a Sunni, etc.

Today, it is the Shiites, and their Iran-backed Hezbollah (terrorist and pro-Assad) party, that represent the largest single faction, but not enough to generate a simple majority. Ten months ago, the Hezbollah led-coalition that controlled the parliament fell apart. The incumbents, left without a power base, simply vacated their senior positions in anticipation of another general election. But wait, there’s a catch. There have been no general elections, and no one seems to believe that given the regional instability – neighboring Syria’s insurrection (Assad and his Shiite-affiliates vs the large majority of Sunnis with their rebellion in full and violent swing) – that an election is even possible.

The Syrian conflict has sent crushing numbers of refugees into Lebanon (they might even constitute a number that is equal to 20%+ of the entire population these days), and local Lebanese sensibilities have lined up supporting the various Syrian factions, with occasional outbursts of violent confrontation increasingly common. Bombs. Guns. Murder. Clearly, the Hezbollah support Assad, and the Sunnis the rebels. It’s gotten just plain nasty, but the net result is an entire nation without an effective government to provide even the most basic services on a predictable and consistent basis.

“Standing near his home in this hilltop village [in Baaouarta, Lebanon], a local real estate agent angrily listed the drawbacks of living uphill — and downwind — from Lebanon’s largest landfill… The stench keeps residents off their balconies and depresses property values, said the agent, Fayyad Ayyash. Coughs and infections are common, and there are concerns about cancer. Some residents worry that methane gas collecting underground could ignite, threatening nearby communities with what he called a ‘trash volcano.’… ‘We live in fear,’ Mr. Ayyash said. ‘And the state is doing nothing about it.’

“This month, Mr. Ayyash and other residents, many of them members of the same Ayyash clan, took their worries down the hill and blocked the road to the Naimeh landfill south of Beirut, shutting down garbage collection in much of Lebanon and causing mountains of trash to pile up in the fanciest neighborhoods in the capital… The sudden breakdown of one of the Lebanese government’s most reliable services accented the growing feeling here that no one is in charge.” New York Times. The blockage of the access road started off as a protest that had no government authority in charge with the ability to solve the issue. So the garbage piled up and flowed out… without end.

Unlike our gridlocked do-nothing Congress, which at least goes to their offices and the respective floors of the Senate and House, the Lebanese Parliament is mostly an empty chamber. “Since the government resigned 10 months ago, Parliament has scarcely convened, no major laws have been passed and the caretaker cabinet has lacked the political clout to set any important policies.” NY Times. With an estimated million Syrian refugees added to the mix, let’s say the volatility index has flown off the charts. So if you want a vision of an extreme gridlock do nothing legislature, go to Beirut. Think we could ever get this bad? You tell me.

I’m Peter Dekom, and I wonder if this extreme example of gridlock will have even the slightest lesson for our own Congress?