By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
The Making Of The Arab World
The profound effects
of the British Empire’s actions in the Arab World during the First World War
can be seen echoing through the history of the 20th century. The uprising
sparked by the Foreign Office authorizing Sir Henry McMahon to enter into
negotiations with Sherif Hussein, and the debates surrounding the Sykes–Picot agreement have shaped the Middle East into forms which
would have been unrecognizable to the diplomats of the 19th century.
Whereby one of
the first urban battles took place during Israel’s 1982
invasion of Lebanon. The war began after
the Lashkar-e-Taiba a Pakistan-based Islamic terrorist and militant organisation with Turkey moving
warplanes to the Syrian
border, and US troops on
standby in Jordan.
Tensions ran high in
Lebanon as the
government declared an emergency meeting following a bomb attack. Then, as now, much of the fighting took place in
densely populated urban areas, with militants like Fatah that issued
him with the ‘Damascus Protocol’.
As it targeted
Palestinian military and civilian infrastructure in southern Lebanon, Israeli
leaders hoped to create a buffer zone along the Israeli-Lebanese border, end
Syria’s presence in Lebanon, and install a friendly, right-wing Christian
government in Beirut. When king Abdullah annexed the teeming West Bank, and was promptly
assassinated by a Palestinian, the Hashemite kingdom of Jordan had become home
to the largest number of Palestinians, constituting two-thirds of its two
million people.
The similarities
between Israel’s invasion of Lebanon and its operations in Gaza go beyond just
the choice of tactics. Then, as now, the invasion began after a shocking
Palestinian attack. Then, as now, Israel’s hawkish leaders opted for a
maximalist response. Then, as now, much of the fighting took place in densely
populated urban areas, with militants often interspersed among civilians. And
then, as now, the IDF used disproportionate force.
This parallel is not
heartening. If Lebanon is any guide, Israel’s war in Gaza will end poorly for
both Palestinians and Israelis. Despite its military superiority, Israel never
succeeded in eradicating the PLO. Instead, the IDF’s primary accomplishments
were killing tens of thousands of civilians; fragmenting Palestinian groups
into smaller cells that spent years conducting hit-and-run operations;
inspiring the rise of a new Lebanese militant party, Hezbollah; and losing over
1,000 of its own citizens in an occupation that stretched until 2000. It is a
pattern that is already playing out again. As of November 12, when the IDF’s
assault cut off communications with many Gazan hospitals, at least 11,000
Palestinian civilians had died due to the fighting, a figure that will keep
rising. Hamas’s October 7 attack massacred around 1,200 Israelis, most of them
civilians, and Hamas has claimed that some of the 240 Israeli hostages taken
during the incursion have perished in IDF bombings. The Israeli military has lost
at least 39 soldiers in Gaza, as well.
And when all is said
and done, it is unlikely that Israel will knock out Hamas or Islamic Jihad. It
may significantly weaken them, as the IDF did to the PLO and many guerrilla
factions in 1982. But the groups will remake themselves, and other organizations
will emerge to fill any void—just as Islamist groups did in the late 1980s.
Instead, what Israeli decision-makers will discover is something they ought to
have already understood and that regional experts have known for years: there
is no military solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Israel’s Vietnam
Palestinian refugees
have lived in Lebanon since the 1948 Nakba—or “catastrophe”—when
more than 700,000 Palestinians were forced off their land by Zionist
paramilitary groups working to expel Arabs from the territory that would become
Israel. Between 100,000 and 130,000 of these refugees fled to Lebanon. There,
most of the Palestinians settled—temporarily, they assumed—in Lebanese coastal
towns. The poorest among them went to refugee camps. Laws prevented
Palestinians from owning property, working in 72 different professions, or
naturalizing, relegating many to permanent poverty and second-class status.
In 1969, Lebanese and
Palestinian authorities struck the Cairo agreement, which ceded governance of
the refugee camps from a branch of Lebanon’s intelligence services to the PLO.
The PLO then spent years creating a vast governance and social service apparatus
in Lebanon, including through its constituent militant factions. Those
guerrilla factions, such as Fatah and the Democratic Front for the Liberation
of Palestine, built kindergartens and medical clinics while sponsoring scout
troops and dance teams. They simultaneously ran training camps and recruited
heavily from the marginalized refugee population, as well as from Lebanese
communities, turning southern Lebanon into a base from which to launch Katyusha
rockets and deadly insurgent operations into northern Israeli towns. Israel
retaliated by repeatedly shelling Palestinian camps and Lebanese border
villages, as well as with targeted assassinations and commando raids.
The IDF also carried
out bigger operations, of which “Peace for Galilee”—the Israeli name for its
1982 invasion—was not the first. The IDF had, in fact, invaded southern Lebanon
four years earlier in response to a cross-border Fatah-led bus hijacking that
killed dozens of Israelis. The 1978 invasion was smaller than the 1982 one, but
it still displaced over 285,000 people from southern Lebanon and killed
thousands of Lebanese citizens and Palestinians. It ended with the adoption of
two UN resolutions calling for Israel’s withdrawal, the establishment of the UN
Interim Force in Lebanon to enforce those resolutions, and a cease-fire
agreement between Israel and the PLO. But it did not weaken the Palestinian
militant movement.
Operation Peace for
Galilee was designed to be more expansive and definitive than the
1978 plan. But initially, it was also supposed to be quick. Military and
intelligence decision-makers originally planned it as a 48-hour mission in
which the IDF would eradicate PLO infrastructure and guerrilla installations
within a 40-kilometer border zone before pulling back.
But when launched in
early June, Operation Peace for Galilee was immediately affected by mission
creep and groupthink. Rafael Eitan, the IDF’s chief of staff, and Ariel
Sharon, the defense minister, were particularly belligerent, pushing for the
military to move far deeper into Lebanese territory than planned. Sharon, like
current Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, was accused of pursuing the
war to serve his own political interests. (Domestic Israeli polls show abysmal
levels of support for Netanyahu, who is on trial for corruption and may well be
ousted when the war is over.)
Netanyahu’s cabinet,
like Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin’s in 1982, is dominated by
hard-liners, and so the war is following an aggressive path. Israeli forces are
already fighting inside Gaza’s largest city, and the government’s maximalist
goal—rooting out Hamas—means there is no apparent strategy for how and when the
fighting should end. In Lebanon, a similarly belligerent and
imprecise strategy cost tens of thousands of civilian lives and ripped apart
the country’s infrastructure. Sharon and Eitan even directed the IDF to lay
siege to Beirut during the summer of 1982, consequently cutting off water,
food, electricity, and transportation to the capital’s population of more than
620,000 people for over a month. Israel eventually forced the PLO and guerrillas
to withdraw, but only after killing at least 6,775 Beirut residents, among them
more than 5,000 civilians.
Israel is conducting
an even more comprehensive siege of Gaza, and with similarly disastrous
results. But Israeli leaders do not appear bothered by the humanitarian costs.
Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, for example, declared his country was
fighting “human animals” and would act accordingly. His line echoes the
sentiment of Eitan, who boasted in April 1983 that once Israelis “settled
the land, all the Arabs will be able to do about it will be to scurry around
like drugged cockroaches in a bottle.”
Eitan’s astonishingly
dehumanizing assessment illustrates part of why the IDF had so much trouble in
southern Lebanon. Convinced of their superiority, Israeli military leaders did
not expect or properly train for intense Palestinian or Lebanese resistance. As
a result, when Israeli forces moved up the coastal highway that links Lebanon’s
major cities, they were often overwhelmed by the fierce opposition they
encountered in densely populated, impoverished refugee camps and local Lebanese
communities. Even as many Palestine Liberation Army units collapsed and
guerrilla commanders fled under IDF fire, camp-level militias—that is, groups
dedicated to the defense of their home communities—individually managed to hold
off the IDF for days by bogging it down in urban warfare, blowing up tanks, and
killing multiple Israeli officers.
Israeli soldiers in the northern Gaza Strip, November
2023
Consider, for
instance, the IDF’s battle for Ain al-Hilweh—a refugee camp in the city of
Sidon. For an entire week, cliques of Palestinian militiamen thwarted the
Israeli military by dodging through the winding alleyways, squat buildings, and
underground tunnels before ambushing Israeli forces. They blew up the IDF’s
armored personal carriers and tanks using only small arms. At least one
Palestinian youth became famous for his ability to hit tank turrets at exactly
the right spot with rocket-propelled grenades, destroying the tanks’ joints,
disabling the vehicles, and exposing the soldiers inside. The camp was so
lethal to Israelis that the IDF withdrew each night for safety, sacrificing the
territorial gains it made during the day. Eventually, the IDF resorted to
bombarding the camp with conventional ordinance and incendiary weapons,
including white phosphorus, in order to take it, bulldoze the ruins, and
continue pushing north.
Ground-level fighting
was not the only way Israel sought to eliminate resistance. The military also
used mass arrests, detaining 9,064 Palestinian and Lebanese men in a single
prison camp in 1982 alone. But this, too, backfired on the IDF. Subjected to interrogations
and beatings, the inmates—not all of whom were militants—staged both uprisings
and escapes. Many who were guerilla fighters went back to their previous
factions and continued battling. Mass incarceration and the destruction of the
camps also created a vast population of homeless Palestinian women, children,
and elderly people whom Israeli forces were not prepared to help—and who turned
into some of the IDF’s most powerful critics. A protest movement led by
Palestinian women in Ain al-Hilweh, for example, contacted international human
rights groups, media organizations, and the United Nations in a successful
effort to draw attention to their plight. They staged demonstrations, blocked
roads, and symbolically burned the inadequate tents the United Nations
provided, acts that both journalists and human rights organizations reported.
Israel’s international reputation, already struggling, took another hit.
Today, Israel’s
reputation is not doing much better. After an outpouring of sympathy following Hamas’s
brutal attack, news stories about the conflict have increasingly focused on
IDF-caused carnage in Gaza. International outlets have run stories about
violence by Israeli settler militias in the West Bank, as well. According to
reports by The New York Times, The Washington Post, Reuters, and
human rights organizations, settlers in the West Bank have killed eight
Palestinians since October 7, including a child. The IDF, which protects the
settlers, has killed at least another 167, including 45 children. In addition
to murdering Palestinians, the settlers have used arson, armed assaults, and
death threats to expel nearly 1,000 of them from their villages. These attacks
resemble the violence carried out by right-wing Lebanese militias in 1982 and
1983, which threatened and expelled Palestinian populations in Sidon—again
under the IDF’s watch.
In fact, the
IDF-militia alliance helped produce what became Operation Peace for Galilee’s
most infamous massacre. After a bomb killed Israeli ally and Lebanese
President-elect Bashir Gemayel in September 1982, the IDF occupied West Beirut
and surrounded its Sabra-Shatila refugee camp. The IDF then blocked
Palestinians from entering or exiting from the camp or the surrounding
neighborhoods. But it let IDF-aligned Christian Lebanese militiamen into the
area. For two straight days, these militiamen rampaged through the district
surrounding Sabra-Shatila camp, killing at least 2,000 Palestinian civilians
and committing a host of other atrocities, including torture and acts of sexual
violence. IDF soldiers, meanwhile, shelled the district and illuminated it with
flares.
The massacre outraged
people around the world, including within Israel. Roughly 350,000 Israelis
joined a nationwide protest calling for Begin and Sharon to resign, prompting
the government to conduct a public inquiry into the massacre. The resulting Kahan
Commission found Sharon was personally responsible for the violence, and it
declared that Eitan’s actions were “tantamount to a breach of duty.” Sharon was
forced to resign and Eitan retired, both in 1983. Begin stepped down later that year.
Past As Precedent
Negotiations over the
war, brokered in part by U.S. Special Envoy to the Middle East Philip Habib,
spanned the summer of 1982. In August, the parties agreed to a cease-fire.
Under its terms, the PLO and members of the guerrilla factions—some 14,398
people total—evacuated Lebanon. Israeli and Syrian troops also agreed to
withdraw from Beirut. A peacekeeping mission composed of U.K., U.S., French,
and Italian soldiers was formed in August to facilitate the evacuation, protect
Palestinian civilians, and help maintain the cease-fire. The PLO and Fatah
shifted their headquarters to Tunisia, while other guerrilla factions dispersed
to locations in various Arab countries. The Sabra-Shatila massacre occurred
less than a month later.
The massacre was just
one of the many indications that the PLO’s defeat was not the end of the war.
It wasn’t the end of the PLO, either. Even though Israel succeeded in killing
many guerrilla commanders and denying the PLO its base in Lebanon, the organization
regrouped in Tunisia. Israel continued to occupy much of southern Lebanon, and
the Palestinian fighters who survived Operation Peace for Galilee formed new
cells and units and continued to battle Israel. These groups, disconnected from
a formal command-and-control structure, proved capable of launching violent,
chaotic attacks on Israeli occupation forces and targeting IDF collaborators.
The Palestinian groups also operated in an environment increasingly shaped by
local Lebanese resistance to the Israeli occupation, including Hezbollah—which
was created to boot out the IDF—and leftist groups such as the Lebanese
Communist Party. Collectively, these organizations proved impossible to defeat.
Israeli troops occupied areas of southern Lebanon for another 18 years,
conducting raid after raid and making arrest after arrest. But for all its
capacity—the airstrikes and intelligence operatives, jeep patrols and commando
units—the IDF could not eliminate its opponents.
Outcomes in Gaza will
depend on negotiations over very different issues than those that existed in
Lebanon. The latter is a sovereign country with its own government, citizens,
economy, and complex dynamics. (Hosting the PLO and Palestinian guerrillas drove
a wedge in Lebanese domestic politics and helped fuel the country’s 15-year
civil war.) The former is a Palestinian territory that international
organizations and human rights groups say Israel occupies, and over which
Israel, along with Egypt, maintains a 16-year a blockade. It has no stand-alone
economy or control over its electricity and water.
But the military and
humanitarian lessons of Lebanon strongly suggest that the current catastrophic
conditions in Gaza will grow only more acute and that there will be long-term,
disastrous consequences for all parties. Israel’s long-standing approach to
urban warfare, its plans for occupation (Netanyahu has said that Israel will
assume “overall security responsibility” for Gaza for an “indefinite period of
time”), its alliances with nonstate militias, and its use of mass imprisonment
all echo what happened in Lebanon. It is therefore hard to imagine the outcome
will be substantively different.
That extends,
unfortunately, to the death toll. No one knows precisely how many people were
killed in the 1982 war; official records do not include the people buried
beneath rubble, the people whose families buried them in courtyards or on
hillsides, or the people who disappeared during events such as the
Sabra-Shatila massacre. But according to estimates from Lebanese government and
hospital authorities, Operation Peace for Galilee killed 19,085 Lebanese and
Palestinians in just the four months after it began, approximately 80 percent
of them civilians. The PLO estimated that 49,600 civilians were killed or
wounded, and that there were 5,300 military deaths. In those same four months,
364 Israeli soldiers were reported killed in action and another 2,388 were
wounded. Over the course of the whole Lebanon war and the subsequent occupation
of southern Lebanon from 1982 to 2000, 1,216 Israeli soldiers died, mostly in
engagements with Hezbollah.
Palestinian casualty
numbers, of course, dwarf Israeli ones—another indication of just how
disproportionate IDF tactics are. That does not make the Israeli toll
insignificant. The damage is very real, and it extends beyond just deaths and
physical injuries. A study by the Israel Trauma and Resiliency Center estimated
that nearly 20 percent of the 70,000 Israelis who served in the 1982 war
exhibit symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, and that only 11 percent of
them have sought treatment. Lebanon is referred to as “Israel’s Vietnam” for
good reason.
Despite the likely
consequences today, Israel has not been willing to consider a ceasefire , claiming
that it would mean victory for Hamas. This is misleading. A cease-fire’s real
winners would be civilians and nonviolent social movements, many of which have
long advocated for an end to the occupation, blockade, illegal Israeli
settlements, and a recognition of Palestinian equality as essential to both
Israeli and Palestinian security. A cease-fire’s losers, by contrast, would be
Hamas and Israeli hard-liners, both of which pursue extreme modes of
violence—albeit one backed by the power of a state military and a vast
surveillance apparatus—to achieve their ideological aims. Some Israeli extremists,
for example, have publicly called for Gaza to be cleansed or for Gazans to be
pushed into Egypt. Neither of those outcomes can happen without firing bullets.
Given the current,
high tensions, it is hard to say how or when this war might end. Qatar has
become increasingly central as a go-between in this conflict, brokering between
Hamas, Israel, and the United States. But Washington is the only actor
that can effectively pressure the Israeli government to halt mass killing in
Gaza and violence in the West Bank. It remains to be seen if U.S. President Joe
Biden’s administration will do so. So far, Biden has firmly rejected such asks,
echoing Israel’s claim that a cease-fire would benefit Hamas. U.S. officials
did successfully push Israel to accept a sequence of four-hour “humanitarian
pauses” to admit aid. Given just how much assistance is needed, and the
ferocity of the hostilities, these will likely have little lasting effect on
civilian welfare in Gaza. But hopefully, Biden will eventually decide to push
for an actual end.
If Biden does, he
would follow a precedent set by another U.S. president: Ronald Reagan. When the
Lebanon war began, Reagan’s administration split: some wanted to demand
Israel’s immediate withdrawal under threat of sanctions, whereas others felt
that the PLO and Syria should be forced to withdraw as well. But as the
conflict devolved into a humanitarian nightmare, the president became more
critical. In July 1982, the White House halted shipments of cluster munitions
to Israel, declaring that the Israelis had violated arms agreements not to use
these weapons on civilian areas. After a particularly deadly IDF barrage
launched during the Siege of Beirut, Reagan called Begin and demanded the IDF
stop the shelling. To do so, he used deeply emotional terms. “Here, on our
television, night after night, our people are being shown the symbols of this
war, and it is a holocaust,” Reagan said. In April 1983, he told the
public his administration had halted F-16 sales to Israel and said they would
not resume until the state withdrew from Lebanon.
There is evidence
that the administration’s demands forced Israeli decisionmakers to change their
behavior. In July 1982, the Washington Post wrote about the “striking”
moderation in the Israeli government’s behavior—and cited Reagan as a leading
reason. “The Israeli media reported that the key factor in the new
‘flexibility’ of the Begin government was a stern letter from President Reagan
last week,” the article said.
Today, Biden must
again use U.S. influence to push for an end to an Israeli war. A cease-fire is
the only politically reasonable, security-enhancing, and morally defensible
policy to advocate, especially if Washington has any hope of remaining a
respected player in the Middle East. The alternative is to condemn the people
of Gaza—most of whom oppose Hamas—to more bombs, bullets, and burns. It is
to make them endure continued dehydration, starvation, and disease. It is to
take an already impoverished, massively overcrowded enclave and set any chance
it has at development back by decades. It is likely to create a new generation
of militants who will risk their lives to fight Israel. “This has all happened
before” is the strongest argument there is to stop something from happening
again.
Elsewhere Iran’s
Proxies in Syria move toward escalation.
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