A tale of two trucks: One deadly incident ignited Lebanon's civil war; the other could start a new one

In 1975, it was the Ain al-Rummaneh bus shooting that started the civil war and today it's the al-Kahaleh truck that is gripping the nation

Lebanese soldiers remove boxes from an overturned truck, right, to a military truck, left, in the Christian town of Kahaleh, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 9, 2023

A tale of two trucks: One deadly incident ignited Lebanon's civil war; the other could start a new one

Sami Moubayed

last update on 21 Aug 2023

On 9 August, a military confrontation erupted in al-Kahaleh on the main road between Damascus and Beirut, in Lebanese territory that is affiliated, both ideologically and socially, with al-Kata’ib al-Lubnaniyya, better known in the west as the Lebanese Phalange.

The trigger was when a truck overturned, causing uproar in the neighbourhood when it was made known that it was carrying Hezbollah arms.

The exact details of what happened remained unclear.

Hezbollah says that those accompanying the vehicle were pelted with stones, and then attacked with live ammunition. The Phalangists insist that it was the Hezbollah operatives who opened fire first, but at the end of the day, two people were killed in the gunfire exchange.

One was a member of Hezbollah and the other a resident of al-Kahaleh who ironically, was not a member of the Lebanese Phalange but rather, more closely affiliated with the Free Patriotic Movement (FPM) of ex-president Michel Aoun.

Reuters — Residents gather in the area where a lorry was overturned in the town of Kahaleh, Lebanon August 9, 2023.

Hezbollah came out with a statement, saying that “militiamen from the area” opened fire on the truck driver and his associates, while the Phalange leadership is holding the Iran-backed party fully responsible for what happened in al-Kahaleh.

This comes just one week after deadly clashes were recorded in the Ain al-Hilweh Palestinian Camp near Sidon, where a senior officer from Fatah was shot dead in late July. The back-to-back events of al-Kahaleh and Ain al-Hilweh have brought Lebanon on the verge of what many fear could lead to a repeat of the tragic events that triggered the Lebanese civil war back in 1975.

The back-to-back events of al-Kahaleh and Ain al-Hilweh have brought Lebanon on the verge of what many fear could lead to a repeat of the tragic events that triggered the civil war back in 1975.

Two worlds 50 years apart

The similarities between the two worlds are eerie.

Lebanese dailies in 1975 were filled with front-page news of bloody confrontation between Fatah and the Lebanese Phalange, the two groups that, against all odds, are responsible, whether directly or not, for part of what's happening in Lebanon today.

Since then, however, both the Lebanese Phalange and Fatah have lost much of their previous glory, sinking into something close to irrelevance after the death of the Phalange founder Pierre Gemayel in 1984 and that of Yasser Arafat in 2004.

AFP — An undated file picture from the early 1970s shows from L to R: late Lebanese Prime Minister Saeb Salam, Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat, late Christian right-wing leader Pierre Gemayel and Druze leader Kamal Jumblatt.

Pierre Gemayel was a titan of Lebanese politics for a good part of the 20th century who is perhaps less known to foreign readers than Yasser Arafat. A pharmacist-turned-football coach and then referee, he owned a pharmacy in Haifa, Palestine.

After his tectonic career shift, would travel to Berlin to attend the 1936 Summer Olympics where he was greatly impressed by the discipline of Adolph Hitler's Black Shirts. He returned to Lebanon to establish his on similar grounds in November 1936, championing firebrand Lebanese nationalism and calling for distancing the country from its Arab environs.

That prompted Adnan al-Hakim, to establish a Sunni Muslim party named al-Najjadeh, with the exact opposite agenda, also in November 1936.

Gemayel would go on to assume several cabinet posts during his lifetime, the last of which was minister of public health and communications during the presidency of his son Amin in the mid-1980s while nominating himself for the Lebanese presidency in 1958.

Lebanese dailies in 1975 were filled with front-page news of the bloody confrontation between Fatah and the Phalange. Since then, both groups have sunk into irrelevance after the deaths of Gemayel and Arafat.

The Ain al-Rummaneh shooting of 1975

History repeats itself in strange ways indeed.

The trigger of the civil war was a failed attempt on Gemayel's life while he was leaving a church in the suburb of Ayn al-Rummaneh on 13 April 1975.

He blamed it squarely on the Palestinians and his supporters responded by opening fire on a bus carrying 30 Palestinians later that day, killing 21 people (although according to former prime minister Sa'eb Salam, whose memoirs were just released, the Palestinian death toll stood at 27).

AFP — A bus which was filled with Palestinians was attacked by the right-wing Lebanese Phalangists on 13 April 1975 in Ain al-Rummaneh, killing 26.

And ironically, those on the bus were not members of Arafat's Fatah but of various other Palestinian branches. Back then it was the Ain al-Rummaneh bus shooting that started the civil war and today it's the al-Kahaleh truck that is gripping the nation, which overturned approximately 7 km from where the 1975 events started.

Unlike 1975, however, the Palestinians have nothing to do with what happened in al-Kahaleh; their role is presently restricted to the violence in Ain al-Hilweh only, although their declared allies in Hezbollah are the main party of the confrontation in al-Kahaleh.

Back then it was the Ain al-Rummaneh bus shooting that started the civil war and today it's the al-Kahaleh truck that is gripping the nation, which overturned approximately 7km from where the 1975 events started.

New leadership

Heading the Lebanese Phalange today is Sami Gemayel, the grandson of Pierre Gemayel, who was born five years after the Ain al-Rummaneh incident.

He grew up under the towering influence of his grandfather, which might explain why he is no less enthusiastic about leading his supporters into a military confrontation, even if it results in a full-fledged war.

After the al-Kahaleh incident, Gemayel addressed his supporters saying: "Know that your party has now moved to a new stage. From today our struggle has commenced unlike our traditional political struggle; a struggle for our very existence." He came one step short of calling them to take up arms."

"We are no longer able to assure anybody, so long as there is a militia out there that is operated from a foreign country (in reference to Hezbollah and Iran)." His words sound almost identical to those of his grandfather half a century ago when he went to war against Yasser Arafat.

From today our struggle has commenced unlike our traditional political struggle; a struggle for our very existence. We are no longer able to assure anybody, so long as there is a militia (Hezbollah) out there that is operated from a foreign country.

Sami Gemayel

Notable differences

But in addition to many similarities, there are also gross differences between what's happening today and 1975, being:

When the civil war broke out, Lebanon had a full-fledged president, Suleiman Frangieh, who happened to be in hospital when the Ain al-Rummaneh event took place.

The presidential seat is currently vacant, however, since the end of Michel Aoun's tenure in October 2022, while warring factions have persistently failed at agreeing on a successor. The Lebanon of 1975 was far stronger than that of today, with strong and functioning state institutions that, despite it all, were unable to prevent the civil war from happening.

The Lebanon of today, however, is in a state of near-collapse on all fronts, mainly financially and economically, with no president and a caretaker premier with very limited constitutional powers. Thus, the chances of slipping into war are far greater than they were in 1975.

DPA — A Lebanese depositor chants slogans as he protests in front of a local bank branch whose entrance was set on fire in Beirut.

In the 1970s, Pierre Gemayel was the uncontested leader of Lebanon's Christians, with a powerful army of followers who swore by his name and obeyed his commands blindly. The same cannot be said of his grandson who inherited his job at the helm of the Lebanese Phalange.

During the country's last elections, they got no more than four seats in parliament. This is a very low representation when compared to the 19-man bloc of the Lebanese Forces or the 18-man one of the Free Patriotic Movement.

Sami Gemayel's ability to mobilise Lebanese Christians will remain highly limited if he doesn't reach out to these two major parties, who control almost everyone and everything in the Maronite Christian community.

The Lebanon of 1975 was far stronger than that of today, with strong and functioning state institutions that, despite it all, were unable to prevent the civil war from happening. The Lebanon of today, however, is in a state of near-collapse making the chances of slipping into war far greater than they were in 1975.

In the past, news of atrocities was transmitted verbally by word-of-mouth before reaching evening news on local Lebanese television, and would often have to wait for the next morning's dailies to reach their desired audience.

In today's world, with Facebook, Twitter, and live streaming, news comes out immediately and is often inflated beyond proportion, raising emotions sky-high. And that is exactly what happened in al-Kahaleh last week, when the Lebanese broadcaster MTV ran a breaking news story about the identity of the truck and its arms, thereby facilitating the confrontation that led to the death of two people from the Phalange and Hezbollah.

In the 1970s, Lebanon's Muslims stood firmly behind Yasser Arafat and the Palestinians, creating a united front against the Lebanese Phalange. This, too, is completely lacking in today's world given that since ex-prime minister Saad Hariri's withdrawal from politics in early 2022, no heavyweight Sunni has emerged, capable of uniting and leading the community or putting its full weight behind one of the warring factions.

Lebanon has no Saeb Salam today and no Rashid Karami, not even a Rashid al-Solh, who was premier when the Ain al-Rummaneh shooting took place.

As for the bus itself that triggered the civil war, it was repaired by its owner in 1983 and after the war ended, would often be put on display on its annual anniversary – 13 April – with the hope that it would bring back gruesome memoirs and never be repeated again.

What we fear is that one day the truck of al-Kahaleh will also be put on display, right next to it, to remind our children and our grandchildren never to go down the path of war again.

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