Memories of Lebanon - The Israeli-Hezbollah War Stirs Memories of Better Days

War is headlines in the newspapers. War is gritty images of tanks and armored trucks filled with soldiers flickering behind the talking head of the news commentators on television. War is a media event, not something that happens in streets you have walked, roads you have driven, towns you have explored. War doesn't drive your friends from the homes you have visited. War doesn't drop its bombs on a city you lived in, an airport you departed from only a few months ago.

But suddenly, a little over a month ago, war did those astonishing things in Lebanon. After the Hezbollah guerillas crossed the border from Lebanon into Israel and captured two Israeli soldiers, the Israelis retaliated by blockading Lebanon's ports and bombing Beirut while Hezbollah fired hundreds of rockets aimed at Israeli villages and cities. In an attempt to cut off supplies coming into Lebanon, Israel bombed roads and bridges leading to Syria. As the terrible news reports were broadcast day after day, and as America, England, Germany and other western countries evacuated their citizens, I urged my Lebanese friends to leave Beirut and come to Cairo.

I first visited Lebanon nearly two years ago, driving down the coast from Aleppo through Syria and crossing the border late on a brilliant afternoon in October. My stay in Syria had been interesting, but there was a heaviness there, a troubling sense of oppression, and I was glad when I saw the red and white flag with its green cedar tree flying over the buildings of the Lebanese border post. Behind the buildings, the Mediterranean sparkled in the autumn sun and little fishing boats bobbled about on the waves. The young border guards and customs officials smiled wide welcoming smiles. "Welcome to Lebanon," they said.

Night fell as I made my way down the coast road through towns whose names echoed through thousands of years of history. The last glow in the western sky was fading as I drove through Tripoli, the second largest city in Lebanon, 85 kilometers north of Beirut. Located on trade and invasion routes, Tripoli's strategic position made her an attractive prize throughout recorded history. Phoenicians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Umayyads, Crusaders, and Ottoman Turks all had their way with her, each successive conqueror reducing the monuments of the previous one to rubble.

It was fully dark by the time I reached Byblos, a candidate for the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world. Even the ancient Phoenicians had believed that this city was very old at the time they settled there over a thousand years before the Christian era began. Seven thousand years ago this was the site of a Neolithic fishing village. By 3,000 B.C. the city had close ties with Egypt where the pharaohs needed cedar for ship building. In return for the precious cedar wood, Byblos received gold, alabaster, papyrus, and linen-and prospered. Around 1,200 B.C. a wave of mysterious invaders known only as "the sea people" settled on the coast. The Greeks named these people Phoenicians, and their city Byblos for the papyrus they traded. Now modern Byblos is a thriving town, with excavations that reveal her ancient heritage. The archeological site has its entrance at a medieval crusader castle. A wax museum near the castle provides an introduction to Lebanon's past.
Soon after passing through Byblos, I saw the lights of Beirut brilliant against the velvet blackness of the mountains, sparkling like a broad sweep of jewels scattered along the shore of the Mediterranean. Friends met me in Beirut and took me to dinner at an open air restaurant overlooking the sea where we looked down on huge rocks thrusting out of the sea, gilded by the moonlight that laid its shimmering track across the wrinkled water.

Lebanese cuisine is justly famous throughout the world. The culinary legacy from the French, who occupied Lebanon until 1941, is sophistication and subtlety, which, combined with the exotic ingredients of the orient and the fresh produce and seafood of Lebanon, create food that is to die for. Dinners begin with mezze, an array of small dishes providing a tantalizing contrast of textures, aromas, and tastes. Certainly included will be tabouleh, a refreshing mix of bulgur wheat, parsley, mint, and diced tomatoes; hummus with tahini; babaghanouj (my personal favorite), a wonderful combination of egg plant, tahini, lemon and garlic spiced with cumin and cayenne. Probably also there will be stuffed grape leaves, fried cheese, pickled vegetables, and other delicacies to enliven the palate.

The traditional main dish is kibbeh, fresh lamb and bulgur wheat ground and pounded and kneaded until it has the consistency of pate'. Kibbeh can be served raw like a steak tartar, or baked, or fried. The cooked versions are frequently stuffed with meat and pine nuts and served with a refreshing yogurt sauce. Fish and shellfish fresh from the sea, chicken, and wonderful vegetarian entrees make choosing difficult. For dessert, if you have the staying power, try the Lebanese version of baklava, prepared with rose water syrup and pistachios. And, of course, strong coffee flavored with cardamon.

The next day my friends took me on a tour of Beirut. The first stop was downtown. I learned that this is the first question a Beiruti would ask: "Have you been downtown?" At first I could not quite understand the obvious pride with which the area was invested. It was a gleaming modern city center with smart boutiques and upscale restaurants nestled at the feet of splendid skyscrapers-but so what? I was used to that sort of thing in the major cities of the U.S. and Europe. Only gradually did I begin to notice the bombed out shells of buildings on the outskirts of the center, the walls pockmarked with bullet holes, the piles of rubble in between new apartment complexes. Then I began to realize what a tremendous job of rebuilding downtown Beirut represented.

In the terrible civil war that tore the country apart between 1975 and 1989, few areas were left unscathed. In little more than 15 years, the Lebanese people had restored Beirut to its status as a major cultural and intellectual center. It was regaining its claim to being "The Paris of the Middle East." Businesses were prospering and tourists returning. Beirutis had earned the right to be proud of Downtown Beirut.

In the following weeks I had an opportunity to explore Beirut. I had a comfortable furnished apartment near Sodeco Square in Ashrafieh, within walking distance of the National Museum where the exhibits span 7,000 years of history. Inspired by the temples of Egypt, with impressive columns at the entrance, the museum was built in the 1930's. It was, however, situated on the green line, the boundary that divided warring factions during the civil war. The museum was damaged and plundered, but the curators were able to save a major part of the collection. Completely renovated between 1995 and 1999, the museum presents a film screening every hour, titled "Revival," which reveals the care and hard work that went into the current exhibitions.

Although Lebanon is a tiny country about the size of the small U.S. state of Connecticut, with a population of less than four million, it is incredibly rich in tourist attractions and archeological sites.
One brilliant day in late autumn my friends and I drove down the coast to Sidon and Tyre. Although Sidon has had its past plundered by treasure hunters and amateur archeologists, much of interest still remains. A charming landmark is the Crusader Sea Castle, built early in the 13th Century on a small island connected to the mainland by a causeway. It is a little jewel of medieval architecture, of which two towers and a connecting wall remain. A climb to the towers is rewarded with a magnificent view of Sidon.

In Tyre are three major Roman sites. On the original island is a triumphal arch near where athletes trained. A second area boasts the largest Roman hippodrome ever found. There are also foundations of a huge crusader cathedral. After trudging about and seeing the old stones, we were more than ready for a long relaxing lunch at the seafood restaurant of the beautiful seaside Elissa Hotel where we chose our own living fish to be grilled. Food doesn't come any fresher and more delicious than that. Afterwards we had a long slow walk on the beach and watched the sunset before heading back north to Beirut.
On another brilliant day we drove up the mountain switchbacks and through Beit Mery and Broumana to the Bekaa Valley to check out the vineyards and wineries. The trip itself was breathtaking, with views of snow covered peaks and deep pine-covered gorges where mountain streams and waterfalls tumbled down to the sea. The many wineries in the fertile Bekaa Valley export more than three million bottles of wine each year to Europe, the United States, and Asia. Lebanese wine is gaining respect on the world market.

The Phoenicians were among the earliest wine makers in Lebanon, and in Greco-Roman times a wine cult flourished, as evidenced by the remains of a Temple of Bacchus in the Bekaa Valley. We stopped for a wine tasting at the Ksara Caves, named for a ksar, or fortress, during the crusades. This estate was acquired by the Jesuits in 1857 and they continued the wine-making tradition. Ksara's natural wine cellar was a grotto discovered by the Romans and extended by the Jesuits into a network of tunnels nearly two kilometers long that are the perfect temperature for wine storage.

On the same day that we visited wineries, we stopped at Anjar, an 8th Century Islamic city built by the Damascus-based Ummayyad rulers. Unlike other archeological sites that reveal layer upon layer of ruins, the result of waves of conquerors building atop the monuments of previous occupation, Anjar was built anew as an inland commercial center. Strolling along the two main avenues connecting the north-south and east-west city gates, we felt the energies of a vital culture dedicated to material gain as well as to culture and religion. The graceful Ummayad arches marking the ceremonial entrances to the theater and mosque now preside over ugly little toads that hop along the stone walls, the only residents remaining to this once prosperous city.

I returned to Lebanon less than a year ago for a short visit, and was planning to fly to Beirut this summer, but the war intervened. And now what? There is a cease-fire in effect, but whether it will last no one knows. Some of my Lebanese friends have joined me in Cairo. Others have elected to remain in Lebanon. I look at the pictures on the news and find it hard to connect these images with the beautiful places, the sunny afternoons, the sunsets, with walking on the beach in Tyre where the war raged.

Lebanon has survived and rebuilt countless times. Somehow it will again, but how long this will take no one knows.