Long after the war that brought them into the Lebanese political spotlight, Palestinians in Ein Al-Helweh and Shatila talk about life in the camps today, Serene Assir reports Amid the colour and dynamism of commemorations held to mark the start of the Lebanese civil war, and amidst severe intra-Lebanese tensions over the future of the country, the last question on the country's mind is the future of the Palestinian refugees, many of whom have resided in camps and communities scattered across Lebanon from birth. This is despite the fact that the date chosen for the commemorations is the anniversary of a Phalangist attack on a busload of Palestinians in Beirut. It is also the case despite the ongoing contentiousness and centrality to Lebanon of the question of Palestine, while the status of Palestinians living there remains unresolved. Palestinians, it seems, are no longer on anyone's agenda. As for the 350,000 Palestinians living in camps and unrecognised communities, many of whom are among the most underprivileged and disaffected in Lebanon, they watch Lebanese political currents and remain on the receiving end of policy changes and social trends, directly and indirectly. "Of course we are affected by events in Lebanon," Palestinian Muhamed Abu Rudaina told Al-Ahram Weekly in Shatila. "My parents and all the victims of the Sabra and Shatila massacres of 1982 are buried here," Abu Rudaina said as we passed the burial site at the entrance into the camp. "We wanted to put up a statue or a plaque in honour of the victims, but the man who owns this plot of land won't let us go ahead without paying him an extortionate amount of money. We can't afford it, and he knows it." Where is the man from? "He's Lebanese." Abu Rudaina and his sister Nawal were among the Palestinians volunteering to act as witnesses for a proposed Brussels-based war crimes trial of Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon. Sharon is accused of masterminding the massacre in the two Beirut camps. "After 11 September 2001, you can forget about that trial ever being held. Anything to do with the question of Palestine -- or, for that matter, with the Muslim world at large -- is a no- go area now," Nawal said. Now, as the Syrians pull out of Lebanon and as opposition groups gain ground in the Lebanese arena, the Palestinians are under pressure to disarm completely. "But we are hardly armed," former combatant in the so-called "camps war" Radwan (last name undisclosed) told the Weekly in Ein Al-Helweh. "We gave up our heavy weaponry when the Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO) left. Ever since then, any weapons you find in a Palestinian home are personally owned. And in this country, everyone is armed." This remains the case perhaps for good reason. "We are still afraid of something bad happening to us. And if it does, how will we defend ourselves if we are not armed at all?" Nawal told the Weekly. All insist, however, that they by no means intend to use their arms. They seek to retain them mainly for their deterrent value. "The Lebanese war, like any internal Arab struggle, worked only in the interests of the Israelis and the Americans. We are very careful not to go back to fighting each other," Radwan went on to say. "During the war we were distracted from our main goal, which is to gain our right to return to Palestine. We will not make such a mistake again." Asked about how they perceive the recent events that rocked Lebanon, Palestinians in both camps said they needed to be careful of what they said about the situation, especially with regards to the bombings and the assassination of former Prime Minister Rafiq Al-Hariri. "We are afraid of course," Radwan said. "But I think only the Lebanese can solve their problems. No regional or international player should be allowed to interfere, or else deadly power imbalances could occur again. As for us, we do live here, but we are just waiting to go back to Palestine." "The death of Al-Hariri is a great loss for Lebanon. He was a good man," Abu Rudaina told the Weekly. "You see, we have his picture up here." Indeed, the photograph of the former leader appears almost as frequently today on the walls of the camps as does that of the late Palestinian President Yasser Arafat. "He didn't do anything to help us," he added, "but then again, unlike many others, he didn't do all that much to make things any worse." The fact is that Palestinians in Lebanon are by no means integrated into the society around them; they are excluded from either buying land or pursuing a total of 72 professions, including in medical or legal fields. "We are just waiting to go back to Palestine," Radwan said, "which is why we do not interfere in Lebanese affairs." But Radwan, like Abu Rudaina and his sister, was born in Lebanon. And though their accent in Arabic leans closer to Palestinian than it does to Lebanese, they have never seen their hometowns. Speaking in the privacy of her home, Nawal admits, "I don't honestly feel I will ever live in Palestine. I just need to try and get on with things, living neither here nor there." Many others feel the same way. At least now, more important than politics is the search for basic human rights. "Far more important to us than anything else right now is making sure that we have access to water and electricity. They keep getting cut it off," Abu Rudaina said. Interestingly, the prolonged Syrian presence plays an important role in this. According to Abu Rudaina and Nawal, it is the Syrian-backed Palestinian groups that control the provision of several of the most basic amenities. "So far, whenever we have needed to get our water or electricity reconnected, I have had to go beg a Syrian living in the camp for help," Abu Rudaina told the Weekly. "But now they are all leaving. In fact, most of the houses they occupied in the camp are now empty. We hope that the PLO will take over the running of the camps once the Syrians have completely pulled out, for they will work for our interests, not for anyone else's." And what if they don't come back? "Then it will be a disaster for us. No one will take care of us," he concluded. "So far, no one has any answers," Amina Jibril, president of the General Union for Women in Ein Al-Helweh told the Weekly. "Illness, depression and social problems are rife here. And if Lebanon really is the 'Switzerland of the Middle East', then how can it deprive 350,000 people living within its borders of their civil and human rights? No one wants to stay here, but until Israel is pressured to implement its international obligations, our situation will not be resolved." "Our society is a living society. No one is prepared to hear another bullet being fired. All we want is to live in dignity," she added.
