I vividly remember a conversation with the former prime minister of Lebanon, the late Salim al-Huss, who once told me with a chuckle that our families were related. He believed that the al-Huss and Itani clans had split long ago, jokingly adding that it was part of a "corrective movement." This exchange took place during an interview I conducted with him – alongside my late colleagues Suhail Abboud and Mustafa Yassin – just weeks after his resignation in October 1990.
Al-Huss’s resignation paved the way for Omar Karami to form a new government as prime minister. At the time, Lebanon was recovering from the defeat of General Michel Aoun, who had stubbornly held out in the Baabda Presidential Palace, defying the Taif Accord that ended the civil war.
During our conversation, al-Huss candidly shared his reflections on the turbulent period when two competing governments ruled Lebanon: his own civilian government and the military government led by Aoun, which included two of his high-ranking officers. He spoke of the "liberation war" that General Aoun had launched, a campaign that only deepened Lebanon's devastation.
I had the privilege of covering al-Huss from his office, conveniently located in the same building where he lived. Once he finished his meetings and other duties, he would brief journalists on the latest developments.
It was a dark time marked by the invasion of Kuwait by Saddam Hussein and the subsequent catastrophe that engulfed the region. In one of the briefings, a colleague who had recently returned from Kuwait recounted his harrowing experience, along with that of others who had been forced to flee the Iraqi occupation. Al-Huss listened intently to every word. He was known for his attentiveness and willingness to answer any question, no matter how trivial.
About a year and a half later, in 1992, I witnessed a telling moment at the entrance to a polling station. It was during the first parliamentary elections held after the civil war and the constitutional amendments of the Taif Accords. A policeman engaged in a friendly conversation with those waiting to vote and casually asked them, "Who will you vote for?" The unanimous answer was al-Huss.
While this exchange might have breached democratic norms and the secrecy of the ballot, the atmosphere was one of camaraderie. One policeman, responding to this chorus of support, remarked: "If you cut your finger, your blood would chant for Salim al-Huss."
