Sabra and Shatila: Thirty Years On By: Hasan Khiti

Sabra and Shatila: Thirty Years On
By: Hasan Khiti
Published Friday, September 14, 2012
http://english.al-akhbar.com/content/sabra-and-shatila-thirty-years

On the 30th anniversary of the Sabra and Shatila massacre in which hundreds of defenseless Palestinian refugees were slaughtered by Lebanese right-wing militias under the cover of the Israeli military, Al-Akhbar publishes an account of the events by a Palestinian survivor who was a young boy when he witnessed the killings.

Sabra was bustling with life, even after three full months of death and destruction brought about by the Israeli siege of Beirut. So was the Shatila camp.

People had returned to their homes with a false sense of security. Everyone, including my 13-year-old self, was deceived into thinking the war was over.

Then came the news of the killing of "elected" president Bashir Gemayel that shook us out of this delusion. A neighbor went out on his balcony and shot a hail of bullets into the sky to celebrate.

My feelings were a mixture of outrage and panic. I was repulsed by those who did not respect the sanctity of death and was simultaneously worried that the assassination would usher in a new season of deaths.

The next day, Israeli warplanes clouded the Beirut skies again, flying lower than I had ever seen them before.

They flew low enough for me to easily see the Star of David on their hulls.

My father who has since passed away came home in the middle of the day. I think my uncle had arrived earlier. They discussed rumors about the Israeli army beginning to enter Beirut. In Sabra, where we lived, there was still no sign of armies or battles.

My uncle said that a friend told him that he passed by Israeli armored vehicles near the Sports City on his way from the nearby Fakhani area.

But the smiles on the grownups' faces suggested that we were not in danger. We felt safe even after the family decided to move to the old people's home where my father worked as a nurse and pharmacist.

I do not remember any battles occurring nearby during the first day in the shelter. All I can remember is the explosion of gas cylinders in Sabra's main square and the sound of sniper fire coming from the vicinity of Shatila camp.

The sniper was kept busy with people pushing mannequins into his line of fire as we enjoyed the free show.

My room had a southern view facing Shatila. I could not make out what was happening, but I could clearly hear the sounds of heavy military vehicles and see the lights from the flares.

I would spend my time watching the shadows made by the window's grill on the opposing wall each time a new one was fired.

One night, my father's colleague arrived from "the camp," which is how residents referred to Shatila. We never heard Sabra being called a "camp" until after the slaughter.

For its inhabitants, Sabra was just the name of a street that starts at al-Dana petrol station in Tariq al-Jdideh, passing through Sabra square, and terminating at the entrance of Shatila camp.

So, my father's colleague arrived and some people began to make fun of him. Someone asked him in a loud voice to tell them how exactly he managed to cross over all the dead bodies in Shatila.

He turned around and left behind him the grinning faces. The grownups were smiling again, therefore, we were safe.

But the rumors kept multiplying and the news on the radio confirmed the gravity of the situation to all who refused to believe.

We decided to escape to the center of Beirut, especially after our neighbor arrived with her children. She told us how they were being led by gunmen to the Sports City stadium. But a landmine exploded and they were able to flee amidst the confusion.

Then came the stories of blood and corpses and kidnapping. Some people spoke about passing through Sabra over rivers of blood. They were not exaggerating.

We were used to moving to my aunt's every time it got dangerous in our area. We piled into our neighbor's truck and headed towards the city. My older brother, Oussama, remained in the old people's home with my father.

We passed by the municipal stadium and reached the Cola bridge. The street was eerily empty. I think my mother panicked and asked my neighbor to stop.

We climbed out of the truck and walked through deserted streets. Our distress grew as time passed and we did not see a single human being outdoors. Usually, these are the most crowded streets in Beirut. But that day, nobody dared to leave their homes.

We went back through Fakhani and the Arab University. Among the ruins of the campus, I saw them for the first time.

Ghosts, I thought. They were moving like spirits among the rubble. It was as if they relished in the destruction. Standing tall and proud, the buildings seems to have provoked them to bring more ruin to the city.

My mother's voice came as an alarm among the crowded images. Do not stare at the soldiers, she warned, and told us to walk faster.

We were back at the old people's home. The slaughter was over. But the battles in Beirut were still raging. The radio reported that there was still some pockets of resistance in the city. After a while, the station went silent, an announcement of their defeat.

The last thing we heard the announcer say was an appeal to those who were resisting to the end. And then three words, "they are here."

We then thought the name "occupied Beirut" would become something normal, like occupied Jerusalem or occupied Haifa. But the resistance would not leave the occupiers alone.

The closest operation to where we were happened one night on Corniche al-Mazraa. The sounds of bullets and shells brought back some of our dignity that we had felt was robbed of us a few hours earlier.

One day, I was far from the old people's home at my uncle's house. I do not recall why I decided to go to Sabra square, but I met a woman who had just arrived from Tariq al-Jdideh.

She seemed as if it was her first time in Sabra. Anyway, she did not live there. She was eager to know if the news about the massacres were true.

I had heard the BBC describe it as an apocalypse, but I told her it was not true. All these people died from sniper fire, I explained.

I do not know what she thought of me afterwards. Maybe she thought I was lying. But I do not care, her question irritated me.

For someone to come and tell you that you have been slaughtered was not easy, especially if you are trying to convince yourself that it could not happen. It is not pleasant for one's street to carry the stigma of such horror.

We were slaughtered, but our dignity and pride forbade us from becoming subjects of pity. Maybe that is why I used to be relieved by reports saying that the victims were no more than a few dozen and hated officials who reported that the death toll reached three thousand. Maybe I was ashamed. I apologize to that woman.

It seemed the occupation was becoming normalized. One of the soldiers once asked my uncle's wife in colloquial Arabic if she had any water.

I wished I had some poison to put in it, although I know I could never do something like that. The wish ushered in many fantasies of revenge. At night, I would plan brave commando operations and dream of destroying the Israeli army.

But the occupation did not remain for too long. Resistance operations inflicted serious damage. Israel withdrew, leaving behind the stench of death.

They withdrew but the terror would come back from time to time. Rumors forced hundreds of people to flee their homes into Beirut.

The crowds joining the great escape betrayed a strange feeling that "they" were coming, sometimes from the east, sometimes from the west.

Some said that the Lebanese army was spreading the rumors so as to be able to enter the area and announce itself as the savior. When this happened people threw rice at the soldiers in celebration.

The Italian troops were the main reason we felt safe. They were in charge of guarding the camp and myths were created about their dedication.

Some said they clashed with the Lebanese army to prevent them from entering the camp. Others said they had told the Lebanese soldiers, "here begins Palestine" and that they were not allowed into the camps.

On the third anniversary of the massacres, the blood of had not yet dried when the terror came back with all its ugliness.

It was the beginning of the devastating War of the Camps waged by Syria's proxy militias in Lebanon. A new war was added to the "events" that the Lebanese like to call their national calamity. But that's another story.

Hasan Khiti left Lebanon for Germany after the War of the Camps. He currently lives in Munster where he works as a chemicals expert. He wrote this text in 2001.

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Sabra and Shatila: Escaping Justice
Published Friday, September 14, 2012
http://english.al-akhbar.com/content/sabra-and-shatila-escaping-justice

Today marks the 30 year anniversary of the Sabra and Shatila massacre, in which hundreds of defenseless Palestinian refugees were slaughtered by Lebanese right-wing militias under the cover of the Israeli military. Below are profiles of the main culprits responsible for the killings.

Ariel Sharon

Ariel Sharon (84) fell into a coma six years ago while preparing for his electoral campaign. He still has a strong presence in the Israeli political scene despite the media blackout imposed by the Israeli state on news and pictures of him.

His condition has not improved. The doctor in charge of caring for him says that his "state is stable," adding that "Sharon is a very strong man physically and in my view, mentally as well."

The financial committee in the Israeli Knesset decided to divide the cost of Sharon's treatment 1.5 million shekels ($400,000) annually between the government and his family.

An Israeli investigative committee had found Sharon indirectly responsible for the Sabra and Shatila massacre in 1982 where hundreds of Palestinian refugees were killed "as he was a defense minister at the time."

Rafael Eitan

Rafael Eitan was born on 11 December 1929. In 1946 he joined the Palmach, which is the strike force of the Haganah [ the pre-establishment of Israel Jewish militant group. He held several positions in the Israeli army including Chief of Staff between 1978-1983.

During his term, he participated in planning the attack on the Iraqi atomic reactor Tammuz and the invasion of Lebanon. After the Sabra and Shatila massacre, the Kahan Commission tasked with investigating the massacre concluded that Eitan was "in breach of duty that was incumbent on the chief of staff."

The report noted that Eitan did not take the necessary measures to prevent the massacre and did not act in accordance with the duties a military commander.

The commission did not, however, remove him from his post or make any further recommendations against him under the pretext that he was due to retire soon. He died in 2004.

Fadi Frem

Bashir Gemayel appointed Fadi Frem leader of the Lebanese Forces (LF) militia in 1982 after Gemayel was "elected" president and one day before his assassination.

When the Sabra and Shatila massacre took place, he was the leader giving orders to LF fighters and he was responsible for the decision to enter the refugee camps.

Frem was married to one of the granddaughters of the Phalange Party founder, Pierre Gemayel. He advanced gradually in the LF as he was one of the first people to join the Bashir Gemayel squad. He was later appointed as head of the militia's military intelligence before becoming deputy chief of staff, then leader of the LF.

Under his leadership, the "War of the Mountain" between Christian and Druze militias broke out and the LF were soundly defeated, causing the displacement of Christians from the Chouf area.

His relationship with President Amin Gemayel grew tense and Fouad Abou Nader was appointed in his place. Frem's forces took part alongside Elie Hobeika's in the Sabra and Shatila massacre.

He now lives in Canada. It should be noted that in 2000 the Canadian department of justice investigated those responsible for torture in the Khiam detention center in South Lebanon and did not allow many of them to immigrate to Canada for this reason.

Saad Haddad

Saad Haddad was born in 1936 in the town of Marjayoun in South Lebanon. He was an officer when he was put in charge of a Lebanese army unit that included 400 soldiers in the town of Qulaiah.

In 1979, he allied himself with Israel to establish the South Lebanon Army (SLA) militia. On 19 April 1979, he announced the establishment of Free Lebanon in the territories occupied by Israel in the South.

During the 1982 Israeli invasion, he transferred members of his forces from the South to Beirut Airport and then to Sabra and Shatila, where they played a prominent role in perpetrating the massacre.

Haddad died on 14 January 1984 from cancer. His daughter Arzeh, who became an Israeli citizen, works in the field of military research to develop Israeli missiles.

Etienne Sakr

Etienne Sakr was born in Ain Ebel in South Lebanon and later became an officer in the General Security Directorate. After the Lebanese government signed the Cairo Agreement in 1969 with the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO), Sakr left the intelligence agency to devote himself to politics.

He established, with the poet Said Akel, the Lebanese Renewal Party which eventually became the Guardians of the Cedars militia a Lebanese ultra-nationalist movement.

Sakr was also one of the founders of the Lebanese Front. His party participated in the fighting at the beginning of the civil war against PLO fighters and their Lebanese allies.

He was known for his collaboration with Israel. He supported the SLA and in the 1990s he lived in the town of Jezzine in the South.

When Israel withdrew from Lebanon in 2000, he asked to make the area along the southern border an autonomous region. He was sentenced in absentia to death on charges of treason. He currently lives in Cyprus.

Elie Hobeika

Elie Hobeika was born in 1956 and was one of the prominent leaders of the LF militia during the civil war. He joined the Phalange Party when he was young, then moved to the LF upon its inception.

In 1979, he was put in charge of the information and security agency in the LF. In early 1985, he and Samir Geagea led an uprising against the Phalange leadership and Hobeika became the leader of the LF.

At the end of that same year, he signed the Tripartite Accord with Nabih Berri and Walid Jumblatt.

This agreement ushered in his public relationship with Syria and his formal admission into the Syrian axis in Lebanon. In early 1986, Geagea turned against him and the two fought in Achrafieh and Zahle, which led to Geagea's takeover of the LF leadership.

After the war, Hobeika became an MP and was appointed minister. He dropped out of politics in 2000 when he lost his seat in the parliamentary elections.

Hobeika was assassinated in 2002 in Hazmieh with a car bomb after his decision to go to the International Court of Justice in the Netherlands to "expose Israeli war crimes."

This article is an edited translation from the Arabic Edition.

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The forgotten massacre
Thirty years after 1,700 Palestinians were killed at the Sabra and Chatila refugee camps, Robert Fisk revisits the killing fields
Robert Fisk
Saturday 15 September 2012
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/middle-east/the-forgotten-massacre-8139930.html

The memories remain, of course. The man who lost his family in an earlier massacre, only to watch the young men of Chatila lined up after the new killings and marched off to death. But like the muck piled on the garbage tip amid the concrete hovels the stench of injustice still pervades the camps where 1,700 Palestinians were butchered 30 years ago next week. No-one was tried and sentenced for a slaughter, which even an Israeli writer at the time compared to the killing of Yugoslavs by Nazi sympathisers in the Second World War. Sabra and Chatila are a memorial to criminals who evaded responsibility, who got away with it.

Khaled Abu Noor was in his teens, a would-be militiaman who had left the camp for the mountains before Israel's Phalangist allies entered Sabra and Chatila. Did this give him a guilty conscience, that he was not there to fight the rapists and murderers? "What we all feel today is depression," he said. "We demanded justice, international trials but there was nothing. Not a single person was held responsible. No-one was put before justice. And so we had to suffer in the 1986 camps war (at the hands of Shia Lebanese) and so the Israelis could slaughter so many Palestinians in the 2008-9 Gaza war. If there had been trials for what happened here 30 years ago, the Gaza killings would not have happened."

He has a point, of course. While presidents and prime ministers have lined up in Manhattan to mourn the dead of the 2001 international crimes against humanity at the World Trade Centre, not a single Western leader has dared to visit the dank and grubby Sabra and Chatila mass graves, shaded by a few scruffy trees and faded photographs of the dead. Nor, let it be said in 30 years has a single Arab leader bothered to visit the last resting place of at least 600 of the 1,700 victims. Arab potentates bleed in their hearts for the Palestinians but an airfare to Beirut might be a bit much these days and which of them would want to offend the Israelis or the Americans?

It is an irony but an important one, nonetheless that the only nation to hold a serious official enquiry into the massacre, albeit flawed, was Israel. The Israeli army sent the killers into the camps and then watched and did nothing while the atrocity took place. A certain Israeli Lieutenant Avi Grabowsky gave the most telling evidence of this. The Kahan Commission held the then defence minister Ariel Sharon personally responsible, since he sent the ruthless anti-Palestinian Phalangists into the camps to "flush out terrorists" "terrorists" who turned out to be as non-existent as Iraq's weapons of mass destruction 21 years later.

Sharon lost his job but later became prime minister, until broken by a stroke which he survived but which took from him even the power of speech. Elie Hobeika, the Lebanese Christian militia leader who led his murderers into the camp after Sharon had told the Phalange that Palestinians had just assassinated their leader, Bashir Gemayel was murdered years later in east Beirut. His enemies claimed the Syrians killed him, his friends blamed the Israelis; Hobeika, who had "gone across" to the Syrians, had just announced he would "tell all" about the Sabra and Chatila atrocity at a Belgian court, which wished to try Sharon.

Of course, those of us who entered the camps on the third and final day of the massacre 18 September, 1982 have our own memories. I recall the old man in pyjamas lying on his back on the main street with his innocent walking stick beside him, the two women and a baby shot next to a dead horse, the private house in which I sheltered from the killers with my colleague Loren Jenkins of The Washington Post only to find a dead young woman lying in the courtyard beside us. Some of the women had been raped before their killing. The armies of flies, the smell of decomposition. These things one remembers.

Abu Maher is 65 like Khaled Abu Noor, his family originally fled their homes in Safad in present-day Israel and stayed in the camp throughout the massacre, at first disbelieving the women and children who urged him to run from his home. "A woman neighbour started screaming and I looked out and saw her shot dead and her daughter tried to run away and the killers chased her, saying "Kill her, kill her, don't let her go!" She shouted to me and I could do nothing. But she escaped."

Repeated trips back to the camp, year after year, have built up a narrative of astonishing detail. Investigations by Karsten Tveit of Norwegian radio and myself proved that many men, seen by Abu Maher being marched away alive after the initial massacre, were later handed by the Israelis back to the Phalangist killers who held them prisoner for days in eastern Beirut and then, when they could not swap them for Christian hostages, executed them at mass graves.

And the arguments in favour of forgetfulness have been cruelly deployed. Why remember a few hundred Palestinians slaughtered when 25,000 have been killed in Syria in 19 months?

Supporters of Israel and critics of the Muslim world have written to me in the last couple of years, abusing me for referring repeatedly to the Sabra and Chatila massacre, as if my own eye-witness account of this atrocity has like a war criminal a statute of limitations. Given these reports of mine (compared to my accounts of Turkish oppression) one reader has written to me that "I would conclude that, in this case (Sabra and Chatila), you have an anti-Israeli bias. This is based solely on the disproportionate number of references you make to this atrocity"

But can one make too many? Dr Bayan al-Hout, widow of the PLO's former ambassador to Beirut, has written the most authoritative and detailed account of the Sabra and Chatila war crimes for that is what they were and concludes that in the years that followed, people feared to recall the event. "Then international groups started talking and enquiring. We must remember that all of us are responsible for what happened. And the victims are still scarred by these events even those who are unborn will be scarred and they need love." In the conclusion to her book, Dr al-Hout asks some difficult indeed, dangerous questions: "Were the perpetrators the only ones responsible? Were the people who committed the crimes the only criminals? Were even those who issued the orders solely responsible? Who in truth is responsible?"

In other words, doesn't Lebanon bear responsibility with the Phalangist Lebanese, Israel with the Israeli army, the West with its Israeli ally, the Arabs with their American ally? Dr al-Hout ends her investigation with a quotation from Rabbi Abraham Heschel who raged against the Vietnam war. "In a free society," the Rabbi said, "some are guilty, but all are responsible."

Timeline: Sabra and Chatila

14 September 1982

Lebanon's Christian President-elect, Bashir Gemayel, is assassinated by a pro-Syrian militant but his loyalists blame the Palestinians.

16 September 1982

Lebanese Christian militiamen enter camps at Sabra and Chatila to carry out revenge attacks on Palestinian refugees, with occupying Israeli forces guarding the camps and firing flares to aid the attacks at night.

18 September 1982

After three days of rape, fighting and brutal executions, militias finally leave the camps with 1,700 dead.