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Lebanese of different religions stopped massacring one another
seven years ago, after a 17-year civil war. Now President Elias
Hrawi thinks they are ready to marry one another. Last week he
presented the cabinet with a bill to permit marriages regulated
by civil rather than religious authorities, making it much easier
for Lebanese couples of different faiths to marry. Mr Hrawi, a
Maronite Christian, says he wants to bring harmony to the next
generation of Lebanese by weakening the country's sectarian
system. In the meantime, his proposal is creating nothing but
strife.
Under the present system, Lebanon's 18 officially recognised
sects have complete control over their communities' family laws,
including marriage. if neither member of a mixed couple is
willing to convert, they may have to go abroad to marry (as more
than 20% of Lebanese couples do, usually to Cyprus). Predictably
enough, the clergy defend this system zealously, to preserve both
their power and their fees. When the cabinet voted to submit the
bill to parliament, Lebanon's senior Maronite, Muslim (both Sunni
and Shia) and Druze clerics all attacked the ungodly move.
Clergymen were not the only critics. Rafiq Hariri, Lebanon's
Sunni prime minister, urged the cabinet to reject the measure. In
the end he could persuade only five of his 30 ministers to vote
against it. But he is still refusing to sign the bill, on the
grounds that it will offend religious sensibilities and divide
opinion at a time when the government needs to preserve a
consensus to push through economic measures. Other senior
politicians argue that it is pointless to try to legislate what
amounts to a change of attitude. instead of courting controversy,
the government should concentrate on educating the young and
building a consensus among the old. The details, they airily
add, can be left for later.
But Mr Hrawi's proposal goes well beyond details. To buy the
support of Nabih Berri, the Shia speaker of parliament, Mr Hrawi
called for a committee to consider how to dismantle Lebanon's
sectarian system altogether. That would mean doing away with the
strict 50-50 split of senior civil service jobs between
Christians and Muslims, and call into question the sectarian
division of major offices. Mr Hrawi even said that the president
need not necessarily be a Maronite, as is traditional.
Such proposals terrify the Maronites, who have lost most from the
civil war. But many Sunni and Druze Lebanese would be almost as
unhappy to see the sectarian system abolished. They assume that
such a move would hand more power to the Shias, believed to be
the largest single group, although no census has been taken since
1932. At its root, the debate questions whether the present carve
up helps preserve communal harmony-or contributes to discord by
institutionalising the domination of particular groups.
Mr Hrawi's proposals may yet come to nothing. Many suspect that
he is simply trying to prove his political mettle as part of a
bid to extend his term, due to expire in November. Sceptics say
that Mr Berri is lending his support not because he wants to
dismantle the present system, but to rejig it in the Shias'
favour. Syria, which has the last word in all Lebanese political
debates, is unlikely to countenance radical changes. But should
Lebanon's politicians ever get down to serious reform, the
present strife is a hint of the hurly-burly that awaits them.
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