The story starts in Masnaa, at the Lebanese border station. The line of trucks begins a few hundred meters east of the Masnaa crossing and continues for the next 8 kilometers to the Syrian customs post at Jdeidet. The trucks are double-parked bumper to bumper along the highway snaking through the barren mountains of the Anti-Lebanon, leaving a single lane for smaller vehicles to pass by. Drivers escape the blistering heat sitting in the shade of their lorries or beneath small trees on the side of the highway, drinking tea and chatting.
This was the picture for most of July, since Syrian border inspections overnight slowed down to snail pace. “Instead of 150 to 200 trailers per day, the inspectors let only five or six pass,” said Yacoub Kaissi, vice president of the Lebanese shipping syndicate. There are also numbers in circulation that suggest a slightly higher entrance rate, of 30 to 40 cargo vehicles to make it through the inspections per day, but the situation of the truckers stuck in the no-man’s land queue is in either case abysmal.
“It usually takes two minutes to drive from Masnaa to Jdeidet, but I have only moved a few inches in a week,” said Ayad Rahim, an Iraqi truck driver. Rahim has risked his life for much of the past three years carrying goods between Baghdad and Beirut. Several of his colleagues have been robbed and some even killed along the dangerous desert highway between the Iraqi capital and the border with Syria.
It is not that he had turned to the dangerous job because of high profits. “I have no choice,” Rahim said. “What else can I do for money? Beg?” His protection against bandits, he said, is his rusty and dilapidated lorry. “No one wants to steal it because it looks in bad condition,” he said.
Lebanese drivers return to Masnaa each day to stock up on food and water for their stranded colleagues. “We can’t go into Lebanon or Syria to eat because we would need a visa,” said Said Khalfan from Oman. “We depend on the Lebanese and Syrian truck drivers to bring us supplies.”
There is also no gas station. Some of the trucks carry perishable goods such as fruit and vegetables for markets in the Gulf, forcing drivers to keep engines running continuously to work the refrigeration units. “I have spent $200 on fuel,” said Abu Khalil, a Lebanese. “My truck needs 70 liters of diesel each day.” The normal price for 20 liters of diesel is about $3. But enterprising motorists heading in the opposite direction are taking advantage of the truckers’ declining fuel supplies to sell them black market diesel at three or four times the normal price.
“I have run out of fuel and I have no money and all my fruit has gone rotten,” grumbled Abu Khaled, a truck driver from Tripoli. “The Syrian customs officials won’t even let me turn my truck around and return to Lebanon. All I want to do is go home.”
While the truckers were stuck, many passengers traveling from Beirut to Damascus by private car or taxi experienced only minimal delays from new safety inspections that also apply to cars. The official Syrian explanation for the obstruction of cargo transports is that it is due to the need for anti-terrorist controls and new customs station construction measures. These are so unconvincing that one hesitates to dignify them by repeating them.
The references to security concerns “bring up the question of why now?” commented Joshua Landis, a Damascus-based American expert on Syria. “Syria always closed their eyes to the border as long as they were in charge of Lebanese politics. Now they are not in charge so they use border pressure. No Lebanese is going to believe that this is a bureaucratic problem,” he said.
In Lebanese and international media, the crisis at the border had been discussed predominantly under the aspect of the damages to produce stranded en route and the loss of income incurred by farmers, estimated by Lebanese agricultural lobbyists as $300,000 per day. The direct impact of wht is in effect a blockade of Lebanese exports and transit shipments, on Lebanese merchants and manufacturers and the long-term implications to Lebanese industry were underreported. (See Q&A with Fadi Abboud on page xx)
Largely ignored were the troubles faced by the Lebanese transportation sector as a result of this crisis, as the drama in July was to a significant extent a transport story. Curiously enough, representatives of the transport industry found it hard to estimate losses incurred as a result of the sector’s inability to send its trucks to and through Syria to Iraq, Turkey, Jordan, and the GCC countries.
While Kaissi claimed that the reduction in road exports had been 90% or more during the July crisis, he said he could not give a strong estimate on the damage to trucking businesses and freight forwarders, only that it had been “really substantial.”
Sea-bound transport on the other hand, “had not been affected too much,” said Elie Zakhour, president of Lebanon’s International Chamber of Navigation maritime transport organization, citing the massive slowdown in shipments of transit cargo to Iraq due to the persistent security problems there. “Over 90 % of cargo to Iraq is not flowing,” he said.
Only in the express freight segment of the transportation industry, did companies present details on the economic damage incurred from the border crisis. “We had to stop running our trucks from here to the Gulf and take all freight to air, which represented a 20 to 25% increase in costs on our margins” said John Chedid, country manager for express shippers DHL. According to Chedid, the situation struck the company in the middle of its most vibrant year ever, shipping goods to and from Lebanon.
It is worth remembering at this juncture that transportation is one of the unfulfilled hopes of the Lebanese economy and that in a “normal” political environment the country should be able to derive far more income from its natural comparative advantages as a transportation and shipping center than it does. At several regional transportation industry forums over the past few years, Lebanon had invariably been described as a potential hub for sea, land and air cargo and the origin/termination point for a possible land shipping alternative to the Suez Canal that could shorten and cheapen transit times between many business centers in Asia and in Europe.
In this context then, the current border problems with Syria hints at an underlying story and foreshadows problems that the Lebanese economy could drift into should it continue.
When talking to Executive about the July crisis, every economic analyst and business leader in Beirut pointed first to the political nature of the problem. Yet beyond the political dimension, this crisis between Syria and Lebanon lends itself to comparisons from family life and the Arab proverb that no strife is more poisoned than strife among brothers.
It seems the atmosphere in our neighboring country is being deliberately loaded with animosity while editorials peddle absurd accusations against Lebanon, and one hears of Syrian businesses being forced to procure goods from Jordanian instead of Lebanese suppliers, of concealed advice to buy apartments in Amman instead of Beirut and bank in other banks other than those in Chtaura.
As the people being hit by border closure on the Lebanese side in the first instance were the struggling farmers and truckers whose work conditions are punishing in the best of times, the people to suffer immediately on the Syrian side were ordinary average citizens whose foreign produce was confiscated by border inspectors. “They are not allowing anything in—not even a tie of bread,” said Yassin Touma, a taxi driver who makes the daily trip between Damascus and Lebanon. One man, who asked not to be named, told an Executive reporter that the customs agents removed even a tube of toothpaste from his bag, because it was still boxed.
This humiliation of small people, however, is not the whole problem. The Syrian-Lebanese economic links are of paramount importance to the future of both countries. In the first five months of 2005, Lebanon’s exports contracted by 2.6% over the same period in 2004, to $710 million. Of those $710 million, $87 million went to Syria, followed by Iraq ($67 million) and Turkey. Syria as export market and route for transit shipments is essential for Lebanon’s future as gateway to a Middle East.
In the other direction, Lebanon’s labor market, albeit small, through its use of Syrian workers has assisted Damascus in countering the debilitating unemployment at home and eased socioeconomic burdens on Syria that some analysts say would be 30% larger without the labor export to Lebanon. So, at stake here are the ties between two nations that by all geo-strategic and geo-economic reckoning and reasoning need each other. “The situation is not yet critical but it is highly disturbing. It is not advisable for any country to be in such a situation,” one Lebanese investment banker told Executive on condition of anonymity.
And what does Lebanon do? Not much, apart from crying over spoilt tomatoes. Members of the shipping industry and other stakeholders met a few times and experimentally discussing alternatives to land transport, such as a defiant air lift to carry cargo over Syria or hiring ferries to take the stranded trucks to a departure point from where they could proceed. But the practical discussions were limited by the constraints of availability of such boats and planes and the cost factors related to hiring them. A more radical approach, one that would forego cost in the pursuit of sending a nationalist signal, could not find backers with enough financial fire power or the sheer guts to pull it off.
On the political scene, the voices coming of the Lebanese side were astonishingly calm, even when the preoccupation with cabinet building under tremendous mental stress are taken into consideration. “I am surprised that the politicians were not more vocal,” said an economist in Beirut, also on condition of anonymity.
And what about the legal framework? Syria evidently has deemed it appropriate to abandon all its obligations under the various treaties of mutual benefit and everlasting brotherhood that the two neighboring countries signed over the last 15 years. But where are the outcries from the Lebanese side, the public and private sector lobbying at the EU, the UN, or the will to hold Syria legally – or at least morally – accountable for the valid obligations it signed in relation with Lebanon without being under any pressure to do so?
All things considered, the picture that emerges in the summer of 2005 seems fit to be a psychograph of Lebanese-Syrian relationships. As such, it bears semblance not so much to a war between brothers as to a marriage where the husband thinks he can maintain a façade of decency while he in truth terrorizes his spouse and beats her into submission any time she dares to move a finger without begging permission.
To make for a pathological psychograph, both partners in the relationship have to display behavior that deviates from the norms of sanity. For Lebanon, this is the time to keep an upright stance. It may not inventing excuses for the blindness Syria shows for its own best long-term interests and the transgressions it commits by not living up to its agreed obligations.
It is well known that from an airplane, most borders are unnoticeable. The borders between sovereign Syria and sovereign Lebanon have to evolve into transfer points of mutual benefits. In the meanwhile, if the world should pay attention to the illegality and destructiveness of what Syria has been instigating at her borders, Lebanon’s private sector titans, political leaders, media commentators and opinion makers have roles to play and things to do.