In the not so distant past, Lebanon’s southern border with Israel was a byword for instability and periodic violence. It was the frontier upon which the diplomatic community in Beirut would continually focus their attention for signs of another outbreak of fighting with Israel. These days, however, it is Lebanon’s northern border that is under observation and a source of unease. Small wonder, given the recent spate of cross-border shootings, kidnappings, arms smuggling attempts and brief incursions by Syrian troops.
But anyone following the news in early May would have thought it was still the southern border that was the more volatile, given headlines that spoke of Israeli “incursions” and “violations and incidents”, of “tensions” building along the Blue Line, and UNIFIL calling on all parties to “avoid misunderstandings”.
The source of this troubling news was an Israeli incursion into Lebanese territory to a depth of 65 centimeters. Yes, 65 centimeters!
Memories are still fresh of the time when Israel occupied a large chunk of south Lebanon; residents of the area suffered daily artillery shelling, air strikes, explosions, detentions and all the other joys of occupation by the army of an enemy power. It was not so long ago, in the greater scheme of things, that Israeli troops were patrolling up and down Hamra Street in Beirut in the late summer of 1982.
The violation, of course, was Israel’s new concrete barrier being erected along the Blue Line, the UN delineated boundary to verify Israel’s compliance with UN Security Council resolutions, in Kfar Kila. The Lebanese border road runs beside the Blue Line and Israel’s security fence at this point. It seems that the Israeli troops who patrol the frontier here daily have tired of insults being hurled at them by passing Lebanese motorists. It is hard to understand why the Israelis would otherwise build this wall. It won’t be high enough to stop someone of an athletic build tossing a hand grenade over it. But then, the whole exercise was about posturing — on both sides of the border.
The Israelis were determined to build their concrete wall and the Lebanese authorities were just as determined that the construction activity not stray one centimeter (literally as it turned out) across the Blue Line.
Why is it posturing? Because the GPS systems used by the Lebanese army, UNIFIL and the Israeli military are simply not accurate enough to determine violations of less than a meter. All three sides could take individual GPS measurements multiple times during a single day and would likely record different readings every time on all three handsets.
This little drama in Kfar Kila in early May echoed the large and more contentious effort to delineate the Blue Line on the ground in the summer of 2000 following Israel’s troop withdrawal. It was an exercise that, with a modicum of goodwill and common sense, should have lasted no more than a week. Instead, it took two months due to Israel’s repeated — and petty — violations (an Israeli army concrete block two meters north of the line was an example) and Lebanese nit-picking to ensure that the Israelis got away with nothing.
The irony regarding the Lebanese border road between Addaisseh and Kfar Kila, along part of which the new Israeli wall runs, is that a stretch of the route actually lies on the Israeli side of the Blue Line anyway. This anomaly resulted from a mistake made by UN cartographers in drawing up the Blue Line in early 2000, who were using maps of too small a scale. When the mistake was realized, it was too late to change the path of the Blue Line and instead everyone just decided to quietly forget about it.
Nonetheless, the unfortunate deaths last month of Sheikh Ahmad Abdel-Wahid and his companion at an army checkpoint in Akkar and rising hostility felt by aggrieved Sunnis against the military, as well as continuing violence along Lebanon’s northern border appears to have belatedly refocused attention away from the south. There are more pressing concerns facing Lebanese security than a slab of Israeli-manufactured concrete straying a few centimeters onto Lebanese soil. And if the most serious concern along Lebanon’s southern border today is an Israeli violation of Lebanese territory that is only 65 centimeters deep, then that should be an occasion for rejoicing.
NICHOLAS BLANFORD is the Beirut-based correspondent for The Christian Science Monitor and The Times of London
