Anti-Syria Bloc Appears Victorious in Lebanon

TRIPOLI, Lebanon —  Anti-Syria politicians appeared to have won control of Lebanon’s parliament Sunday as the nation’s first elections since the end of Syrian domination wound to a stormy and religiously divisive finish.

A loose coalition of Sunni Muslims, Christians and Druze headed by Saad Hariri, a 35-year-old billionaire and political novice, pulled off a victory in the bitterly divided northern regions of Lebanon, sources in his camp said. Allies of Hariri, the son of assassinated former Prime Minister Rafik Hariri, needed to win 21 of 28 northern seats in the final round of voting to secure a majority.

The election was the first since Syria withdrew its soldiers from Lebanon this year, heralding the end of nearly three decades of de facto Syrian control over this small Mediterranean nation. The balloting has been lauded by Washington as a triumph for democracy in the Middle East.

The diverse anti-Syria movement had initially kindled hopes for a new era of cooperation among Lebanon’s often-hostile religious groups. But as the voting was held region by region in four rounds over the course of three weeks, the election appeared to revive the nation’s sectarian and clan divisions, with Christians and Muslims battling for power.

Talk of national unity began to ring hollow as militia banners from the nation’s 1975-1990 civil war replaced the Lebanese flag in the streets; clerics gave their flocks explicit voting instructions; and bands of students too young to remember the massacres of past decades swarmed behind sectarian figureheads.

By last week, the election had degenerated into a bilious, religiously charged contest between blocs led by Gen. Michel Aoun, a Maronite Christian, and Hariri, a Sunni Muslim. Tensions were deepened by allegations of vote-buying, Syrian meddling and voter intimidation.

Official results won’t be announced until today. But by midnight, Aoun had acknowledged that his bloc would be the opposition in the new parliament. Soon after that, a key member of his alliance gave an embittered interview conceding defeat.

“What we were afraid of has happened,” said Suleiman Franjieh, 40, former interior minister and a lifelong stalwart for Syria, told the satellite channel LBC. “The north has split along sectarian lines.”

It wasn’t long before Druze leader Walid Jumblatt, an ally of Hariri, was on the same channel, chastising Franjieh for risking a civil war. “This child shouldn’t speak like this,” Jumblatt said.

In the run-up to Sunday’s vote, the blocs accused each other of exploiting religious sentiments for political gain.

“Mr. Hariri wants to awaken religious feelings and create enmity between the religious groups,” Aoun said in a Sunday morning interview at his Beirut headquarters, in the cool, lush mountains rising over the Mediterranean.

Hariri has been struggling to fill the political and religious vacuum left by the February assassination of his father. The death was widely blamed on Syria, and became a catalyst for Lebanese independence. Syria staunchly denied any role in Hariri’s death, but was forced to retreat from Lebanon to calm street protests and ease international pressure.

Syria’s withdrawal cleared the path for Aoun to return to Lebanon after years of exile in France. The hard-charging general and longtime Syria critic arrived from Paris with insults for his fellow Christians, whom he called toadies of Syria who changed stripes when it was politically convenient.

But then, in a baffling about-face, Aoun teamed up with Syria allies to form powerful electoral slates. In a dramatic shift of rhetoric, he praised Damascus for withdrawing its soldiers. Aoun’s improbable, hastily forged alliances infuriated many other Christian politicians, who had cast their lot with Hariri.

But Aoun’s formula proved wildly popular on the street. He swept the vote in the Christian heartland of Mount Lebanon last week, snatching votes away from some of the country’s most prominent Christian clans.

Analysts interpreted his surprise victory as evidence of deep-rooted sectarian fears: Christians, having watched Muslim-led lists rack up seats the first two rounds of voting, were leery of losing influence in the new government. So they threw their support behind Aoun.

“The youth, especially, didn’t like the idea that Christians would go under Saad Hariri. The Christians began to feel sold out,” said Timur Goksel, a former chief advisor to the United Nations who teaches conflict management at the American University of Beirut.

Aoun has now emerged as one of the most powerful figures in Lebanon. Before Sunday’s election, he had won 21 of 128 parliamentary seats. Hariri’s bloc had 44, and the Shiite Muslim alliance of Hezbollah and Amal had won 35.

Hariri’s bloc had gone into the last round flush with momentum, but by Sunday morning, its members’ comments were guarded. By late afternoon, a panicky Hariri appeared on TV to implore followers to go to the polls.

The two camps had been sniping throughout the week. Aoun had accused Hariri of trying to buy the election with the “petrodollars” he and his father earned in Saudi Arabia. Reports swirled in the north that voters were offered $100 to vote for Hariri. The billionaire’s supporters accused Aoun of cutting a deal with Syria in hopes of becoming president.

On Sunday, as the mercury climbed and the sun beat down, an unpredictable energy surged in the streets. The air rang with car horns, the crack of drums and hoarse cries of slogans.

Cars plastered with campaign stickers cruised in tireless carnivals along the main roads. Youths sprouted from sun roofs, sprawled from the side windows and perched precariously on windshields. Spilling out into the summery day, they thrust flags into the air and flashed victory signs at passersby as heavy chords of nationalistic anthems pounded from massive speakers.

Watching them pass, restaurateur Youssef Mkary, 37, sighed.

“We’re worried about the fate of the country and of the town,” he said. “Everybody is worried about their own camps -- the families, the movements. Those who lose may take it in a sectarian way.”

Friction was also high among Muslims, many of whom are distrustful of Aoun’s rising influence. On Friday, Sunni Muslim clerics had taken to the pulpits to urge worshipers to vote for Hariri, but the reaction among the faithful was mixed.

“The clerics of mosques got up on Friday and started speaking of things that should be decided at the ballot box,” complained Wasefh Karimi, 41. The Sunni Muslim said he had voted for Aoun in disgust over the rising sectarianism. “They shouldn’t approach us with this game of Sunnis and Christians.”

Among the major challenges the new legislature faces is the issue of whether Hezbollah should disarm. The U.S. and the U.N. Security Council have demanded that the group’s armed wing give up its weapons.

Lebanese are deeply divided on the question. The Hezbollah militia was widely credited with helping end Israel’s 18-year occupation of southern Lebanon in 2000, and some view the weapons as a useful deterrent against Israel. But others have come to regard the armed wing as an international irritant whose usefulness has begun to fade.

But Hezbollah has been adamant about its desire to keep its weapons. “We will consider any hand that tries to get our weapons an Israeli hand, and we will chop it off,” Hezbollah leader Sheik Hassan Nasrallah told followers last month.

The fate of President Emile Lahoud is another lingering question. The Syria-backed leader clings to his job despite losing most support. He was supposed to be replaced last fall, but Damascus pressured Lebanese lawmakers to amend the constitution to extend his term.

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Special correspondent Rania Abouzeid in Beirut contributed to this report.