In my previous entry I mentioned Beirut’s marina and its potential revenues. Today, I thought it might be interesting to delve into managerial issues relating to that marina.
To begin with, mooring in that port is expensive, comparatively and in absolute terms. This gives weight to the argument that downtown Beirut - shoreline and marina included - were designed to accommodate the fabulously privileged exclusively.
A few weeks ago I thought it would be nice if I could dock my boat at the marina. I went to the scenic harbor to enquire about terms for renting berth space and was directed to the person in charge.
Captain Jalal has worked on his looks as a sea captain. His cap definitely has something nautical about it: it’s damp with new sweat, it has salty, meandering contours from old sweat, and it is patterned with soot. Decades ago, that cap must have been white and the anchor emblem adorning it must have been golden.
Briefly, and with a marked Beiruti accent, Captain Jalal spoke of his seafaring talents. I retained that he is as skillful in berthing a supertanker in a crammed harbor as he is in racing Formula One boats well past world record speeds. He is equally at ease in sailing a destroyer as in commanding a fishing fleet. As for his swimming, it is unequaled in this part of the world; he used to swim-chase jetskis out of the marina, but he’s growing old and the new machines are getting more powerful. Fishing, diving, waterskiing, surfing, you name it he excels in it. He didn’t mention anything about aircraft carriers, though, and I didn't push in that direction either.
I told him what I was here for and that like himself I was a Beiruti. That did not seem to have impressed him, and upon enquiring about my boat’s details he said that the marina didn’t accept boat that size.
(In the following conversation, N is Novo and CJ is Captain Jalal)
N: But I see smaller boats moored in here. How come?
CJ: Ya habibi, these are for millionaires: princes, sheikhs, sultans, and their offspring. I admit we have a couple of very rich Beirutis as clients, but we are planning to get rid of one next season.
N: But I thought these guys mostly owned big 30-meter-plus yachts.
CJ: That’s where you are wrong, my friend. The larger boats are for the less well-to-do.
N: Ya Captain Jalal I am sure what you are saying must make sense but I fail to understand; I lack your experience, so instruct me.
CJ: Ya sahbi as a favor from one Beiruti to another I’ll tell you how the marina operates. You could compare it to a bank. If a client moors a vessel in here we would need a guarantee that he’ll pay his dues. The rich have lots of assets that we can impound should they default on any payment, whereas ordinary guys have nothing for us to seize but their boats.
N: So?
CJ: You didn’t get it? OK, think of the boat as collateral. We don’t need collateral from the rich because they can pay. That’s why they may moor small and cheap boats in here. Whereas guys like you are only allowed to moor large and expensive boats so that we are left with something valuable to seize in case they default on fees, charges, taxes, tips, and the like.
N: That makes sense.
CJ: Of course it does. Take this four-meter bathtub of a boat, who do you think owns it? The richest emir in the peninsula, that’s who. His payments are regular as clockwork, so I’ll never have to seize his raft. And who do you think owns the million dollar 40-footer parked over there? A clerk at the Mining and Ore Ministry. If things turn bad on him his vessel goes as payment of his debts to the marina. Simple rule-of-thumb banking applied to marina business. Besides, we at this marina have reversed the standards for the chic and snob: As you can see, small inexpensive boats have become the symbol of old money par excellence.
N: I have to admit ya Captain your logic is disarming, but I need some time to digest it. In the meantime, is there a way of mooring my boat here? I’ll pay you two seasons in advance so you won’t have to worry about default.
CJ: Ya raohé your boat will go in a couple of months if you fall in arrear on tips only. Don’t you think it saddens me to turn down a fellow Beiruti. But I’ll lower the bar for you: get yourself a half-million-dollar floater and I’ll see what I can do next season. And don’t you leave with the impression that I haven’t done anything for you today: I let you park your car in the marina’s lot, which is reserved for 2006 models.
I see a State budget for 2006
Fortune-telling is at its heydays, what with year-end and turbulent times ahead. Seers are polishing their crystal balls and getting down to the serious business of omening.
Being myself a clairvoyant, I deemed it fitting to share my foresight with readers of this blog, most of whom I know are harsh critics of my facetious, devil-may-care politics. For having put up with my unnerving writings for the past few weeks and in anticipation of what they would be enduring in the future, I offer them my predictions for 2006. Here goes.
Beirut isn’t going to be hit by a tsunami in 2006. That should be bad news for holders of Solidere shares. Here is why: a tidal wave would expand the city’s marina enormously, probably to cover most of Lebanon. Think of the increased income generated from the rental of the expanded mooring space. No tidal wave means no additional income from the marina, which in turn means Solidere share prices will languish at their current levels.
I predict high waves, though. They will splash against the corniche wall and spray passersby; yes, I see lots of irritated Beiruti passersby cursing the government. If the dateline on that crystal ball is accurate this should happen in the afternoon of January 17.
On a less serious wavelength, I predict the government is going to deliver a State budget in 2006. Now the Lebanese audience knows that this is not a foregone yearly occurrence in Lebanon, hence the value of my prediction. Fellow clairvoyants bruised their reputation last year when they predicted a State budget for 2005, because there wasn’t any.
As a matter of fact, three finance ministers attempted to work out a budget but failed. The first minister carbon-copied the 2004 budget and trumpeted the exercise as the mightiest achievement in economics since the discipline was invented; he kept the draft law in his drawer. Failing to recognize the document as a draft budget law, his successor ordered ministry staff to prepare something closer to his area of comprehension, so they adapted and simplified the 2004 budget and trumpeted the exercise as a fiscal masterpiece. Now the current minister found that draft too unoriginal to consider and went back to the 2004 budget for inspiration. As months went by he decided it was wiser to skip budgeting for 2005 and to apply the 2004 budget instead. The decision was trumpeted as an emanation from Solomonic wisdom.
Governance-by-hesitation is set to continue in Lebanon, but I clearly see a State budget for 2006, one that will be based on the 2004 budget.
Being myself a clairvoyant, I deemed it fitting to share my foresight with readers of this blog, most of whom I know are harsh critics of my facetious, devil-may-care politics. For having put up with my unnerving writings for the past few weeks and in anticipation of what they would be enduring in the future, I offer them my predictions for 2006. Here goes.
Beirut isn’t going to be hit by a tsunami in 2006. That should be bad news for holders of Solidere shares. Here is why: a tidal wave would expand the city’s marina enormously, probably to cover most of Lebanon. Think of the increased income generated from the rental of the expanded mooring space. No tidal wave means no additional income from the marina, which in turn means Solidere share prices will languish at their current levels.
I predict high waves, though. They will splash against the corniche wall and spray passersby; yes, I see lots of irritated Beiruti passersby cursing the government. If the dateline on that crystal ball is accurate this should happen in the afternoon of January 17.
On a less serious wavelength, I predict the government is going to deliver a State budget in 2006. Now the Lebanese audience knows that this is not a foregone yearly occurrence in Lebanon, hence the value of my prediction. Fellow clairvoyants bruised their reputation last year when they predicted a State budget for 2005, because there wasn’t any.
As a matter of fact, three finance ministers attempted to work out a budget but failed. The first minister carbon-copied the 2004 budget and trumpeted the exercise as the mightiest achievement in economics since the discipline was invented; he kept the draft law in his drawer. Failing to recognize the document as a draft budget law, his successor ordered ministry staff to prepare something closer to his area of comprehension, so they adapted and simplified the 2004 budget and trumpeted the exercise as a fiscal masterpiece. Now the current minister found that draft too unoriginal to consider and went back to the 2004 budget for inspiration. As months went by he decided it was wiser to skip budgeting for 2005 and to apply the 2004 budget instead. The decision was trumpeted as an emanation from Solomonic wisdom.
Governance-by-hesitation is set to continue in Lebanon, but I clearly see a State budget for 2006, one that will be based on the 2004 budget.
Pounding a lie
Americans should have learned more about Arab collective psyche and persona before invading an Arab country. Generally and in their subconscious perception, Arabs have trouble differentiating between heads of state and father figures. This could explain their reticence to challenge political authority, especially when a dictator wields that authority.
Arabs generally sympathize with dictators - their own and those of other countries.
To Arab masses, caging an ex-dictator is history taking a deviant turn; beating him in captivity is plain sacrilegious.
In claiming he has been beaten by the Americans, the dictator may have wittingly sought to prompt a denial from the U.S. Administration, in a bid to cage that Administration in a bind.
Who believes the Americans? asked the dictator in the courtroom.
The rhetorical question closes the trap.
Do Americans beat prisoners? Of course they do, and that’s a fact.
Did they beat the imprisoned dictator?
Well, here are the two possibilities:
1- If they did, then the dictator is telling the truth and they are lying.
2- If they didn’t – as they are clamoring – then it must be because they have deference for dictators. Therefore, very much like the Arabs, they spare figures of authority the degradation they dish out to ordinary pedestrians. Not a very high moral standpoint.
Which of the trap’s two prongs is more damaging?
Arabs generally sympathize with dictators - their own and those of other countries.
To Arab masses, caging an ex-dictator is history taking a deviant turn; beating him in captivity is plain sacrilegious.
In claiming he has been beaten by the Americans, the dictator may have wittingly sought to prompt a denial from the U.S. Administration, in a bid to cage that Administration in a bind.
Who believes the Americans? asked the dictator in the courtroom.
The rhetorical question closes the trap.
Do Americans beat prisoners? Of course they do, and that’s a fact.
Did they beat the imprisoned dictator?
Well, here are the two possibilities:
1- If they did, then the dictator is telling the truth and they are lying.
2- If they didn’t – as they are clamoring – then it must be because they have deference for dictators. Therefore, very much like the Arabs, they spare figures of authority the degradation they dish out to ordinary pedestrians. Not a very high moral standpoint.
Which of the trap’s two prongs is more damaging?
Handling power
Who defines the rule sets in the emerging world order?
The world would have to deal with a quadruple problem if rogue regimes were to be allowed to hatch rule sets that they deem would serve their ‘interests’.
1. The interests of rogue regimes are bound to be roguish, and therefore detrimental to the welfare of the population under their yoke and to the democratic and legitimate aspirations of their neighbors.
2. Globally, the Rogue-Regime Club would expand if regimes standing on the brink of roguishness tip over toward a comfort spot whereby they can work out strong peer alliances. A race toward ‘roguedom’ would ensue. Global mischief would spread and globalization U.S.-style would decline.
3. The moral standing of the rule-setter would be tarnished.
4. In any game, and regardless of the number of players, there can be only one rule maker. A new ballgame would emerge with each additional rule-maker that enters the fray. The resulting scene of global chaos would be quite exciting to watch. It would be akin to a situation whereby baseball players with bats, gloves, caps and all, would show up on a tennis court to play football against an ice hockey team, with water polo referees and to an audience expecting a cricket game. Only the real thing would be bloodier than the simile.
Witness the case of a regime, a rickety one at that, that has – for decades - been setting its own disruptive rules not only within its national borders but also far beyond. This regime has been engaging in acts of systematic terrorism with impunity and has now leveled clear and credible threats of terrorism on a broader scale if its will were to be challenged in any way.
Pity the superpower, for it has inherited more power than it can handle.
The world would have to deal with a quadruple problem if rogue regimes were to be allowed to hatch rule sets that they deem would serve their ‘interests’.
1. The interests of rogue regimes are bound to be roguish, and therefore detrimental to the welfare of the population under their yoke and to the democratic and legitimate aspirations of their neighbors.
2. Globally, the Rogue-Regime Club would expand if regimes standing on the brink of roguishness tip over toward a comfort spot whereby they can work out strong peer alliances. A race toward ‘roguedom’ would ensue. Global mischief would spread and globalization U.S.-style would decline.
3. The moral standing of the rule-setter would be tarnished.
4. In any game, and regardless of the number of players, there can be only one rule maker. A new ballgame would emerge with each additional rule-maker that enters the fray. The resulting scene of global chaos would be quite exciting to watch. It would be akin to a situation whereby baseball players with bats, gloves, caps and all, would show up on a tennis court to play football against an ice hockey team, with water polo referees and to an audience expecting a cricket game. Only the real thing would be bloodier than the simile.
Witness the case of a regime, a rickety one at that, that has – for decades - been setting its own disruptive rules not only within its national borders but also far beyond. This regime has been engaging in acts of systematic terrorism with impunity and has now leveled clear and credible threats of terrorism on a broader scale if its will were to be challenged in any way.
Pity the superpower, for it has inherited more power than it can handle.
Mind the kitten
To avoid being assassinated, most of Lebanon’s party leaders have withdrawn to their hometowns and strongholds. Their fear and response may be legitimate, but the fact that they can hardly communicate is proving increasingly inconvenient. They can’t meet, and eavesdropping prevents them from using their phones for contact.
Forget about SMS, VoIP, Soraya phones, scramblers and what have you; telecom interceptors have become cheap and so easy to operate that even the dense can use them.
Perched in mountain heights these leaders can still defy the snoops. Use messenger pigeons, I say. These animals are dependable: they take the shortest path to destination and do not leak the message en route.
All what these leaders have to do to protect themselves and their telecom equipment is mind the kitten and bird flu.
The sophisticated may want to use doves to send conciliatory messages or messages to allies, and would dispatch angry messages with angry-looking hawks. This would give a new interpretation to McLuhan’s axiom that the medium is the message.
But lo and behold, hope glimmers from the nation’s rooftops. They have started revolting as they finally realized that both dovish and hawkish strains are no more than clay pigeons waiting to be downed.
Forget about SMS, VoIP, Soraya phones, scramblers and what have you; telecom interceptors have become cheap and so easy to operate that even the dense can use them.
Perched in mountain heights these leaders can still defy the snoops. Use messenger pigeons, I say. These animals are dependable: they take the shortest path to destination and do not leak the message en route.
All what these leaders have to do to protect themselves and their telecom equipment is mind the kitten and bird flu.
The sophisticated may want to use doves to send conciliatory messages or messages to allies, and would dispatch angry messages with angry-looking hawks. This would give a new interpretation to McLuhan’s axiom that the medium is the message.
But lo and behold, hope glimmers from the nation’s rooftops. They have started revolting as they finally realized that both dovish and hawkish strains are no more than clay pigeons waiting to be downed.
Requiem for courage
His enemies wanted to defeat him so they resorted to the only means they know, to the only means he left them with. But his death defeated them and destroyed the idea that in death there is defeat. In the death of the courageous there is deliverance and resurrection.
For generations to come, his name will remain bonded to the quality of courage and to the ideal of Lebanon’s independence. Generations of Lebanese youth will come to regard him as a role model and in the distant future many a soldier will march to the drumbeat of his words. His courage in life and his invincibility in death will forever rally the strength of militants for the cause of independence.
How could they have defeated him if his defiance persists and grows and overwhelms.
That’s why I mourn Gebran Tueni.
For generations to come, his name will remain bonded to the quality of courage and to the ideal of Lebanon’s independence. Generations of Lebanese youth will come to regard him as a role model and in the distant future many a soldier will march to the drumbeat of his words. His courage in life and his invincibility in death will forever rally the strength of militants for the cause of independence.
How could they have defeated him if his defiance persists and grows and overwhelms.
That’s why I mourn Gebran Tueni.
Lost in translation
I suspect translations haven’t done justice to those involved in interrogations conducted by the international investigation commission. My suspicions were confirmed when I got hold of a transcript of an investigation episode.
In a bugged room the interrogator sat facing a suspect and his translator.
The suspect goes by the name of Jawad, and the interrogator is a Londoner who made no linguistic concession to facilitate the translator’s job.
Jawad was instructed by his superiors to listen only to the translator so as to avoid being trapped by the interrogator.
The translator had followed a two-week English-language course at the behest of the party, and taught English in his native village. By party standards, he is an accomplished linguist. Being an honest man, he brought with him a dictionary so that not a word of English would elude him. At worst, he thought, he’ll be able to grasp the general context of what’s being said and would suitably fill in some blanks if need be. Who’ll be able to judge his work anyway? The interrogator spoke not a word of Arabic and the suspect and higher-ups spoke not a word of English.
The interrogation went on as follows:
Interrogator: Rank and ID please.
Translator: (bewildered) That’s code. They always start their interrogations with code. They are spies, remember. Don’t answer.
In response to the suspect’s silence:
Interrogator: Cat got your tongue?
Translator: I’ll cut your tongue and feed it to animals.
At this, the suspect accused the interrogator of planning to torture him and asked that the Red Cross and human rights organizations be called.
Interrogator: Rocking the boat won’t get you off the hook.
Translator: I’ll take you on a boat trip and hit you with a hook and throw you on the rocks.
The suspect retorted that this would violate the understanding that interrogations will take place in here rather than anywhere else.
Interrogator: What are you rambling about? Clean up your act otherwise you’ll be left out in the cold.
Translator: You should have cleaned err… the crime scene, now I have to let you have the fridge torture where you’ll feel cold.
The suspect grew bolder and more defiant as he noticed that none of the interrogator’s torture threats were carried out so far. Noticing the new-found courage in the suspect, the interrogator struck back.
Interrogator: Look here old chap, you may have been a tough cookie in Lebanon, but in here I call the shots.
Translator: (after looking up the word ‘cookie’ in the dictionary) In Lebanon you were sweet as baklawa, but in here I shoot you when I want.
Empty threats, the suspect thought.
Interrogator: For your own interest you’ve got to spill the beans, gov’na.
Translator: O governor, you should bring me beans if you want me to look after your interests.
He is becoming more accommodating now, the suspect thought and offered his Al Madina Bank credit card as a bribe to the interrogator.
Interrogator: Let’s call a spade a spade, is this evidence as to why this bank went belly-up?
Translator: (after looking up the words ‘spade’ and ‘belly-up’ and pondering the connection) You ordered two shovels, did you pay for them with this card?
Shovels? He must be referring to the recent excavations, Jawad thought, and told the interrogator that as a man of standing in Lebanon he did not have do the spadework.
So, the natives did the dirty work, the interrogator thought he had a clue.
Interrogator: By hook or by crook I’ll make you talk
Translator: I am going to get the words out of your mouth with a crooked cleaver.
To that the suspect answered: I don’t advise you to use this method, it doesn’t work; I tried it once with a poor devil, but when he decided to talk I found out he couldn’t.
Disturbed by the display of callousness, the investigator’s tone hardened.
Interrogator: Wait till I nail you in the corner, then you’ll sing
Translator: I’ll tear your nails out and you’ll feel so much pain that you will sing
They must have gotten hold of one of those nail removers we got from Eastern Europe, the suspect mused. Copycats!
Interrogator: I thought you should know that we got the smoking gun
Translator: I’ll use err.. a special gun on you
As long as he’s just threatening I hope he’ll show me that thing, I might adopt the instrument in my interrogations if I survive this, Jawad thought.
Exasperated, the interrogator decided to wrap up the session.
Interrogator: I won’t go on whipping a dead horse much longer
Translator: Jawad, I’ll whip you till you are dead and stop after that.
That’s a spine-chilling threat, he's giving me more ideas, Jawad thought.
The investigator thought he should leave the suspect worried about a few conjectures he’ll be making in his report.
Interrogator: A lot still needs to be clarified, so I’ll have to take a few shots in the dark to complete my report.
Translator: I’ll shoot you many times at night when it is dark and finish my report.
I wish the guys from al ajhizeh would come and deliver me from this frenzied Englishman before nightfall, Jawad prayed silently.
In a bugged room the interrogator sat facing a suspect and his translator.
The suspect goes by the name of Jawad, and the interrogator is a Londoner who made no linguistic concession to facilitate the translator’s job.
Jawad was instructed by his superiors to listen only to the translator so as to avoid being trapped by the interrogator.
The translator had followed a two-week English-language course at the behest of the party, and taught English in his native village. By party standards, he is an accomplished linguist. Being an honest man, he brought with him a dictionary so that not a word of English would elude him. At worst, he thought, he’ll be able to grasp the general context of what’s being said and would suitably fill in some blanks if need be. Who’ll be able to judge his work anyway? The interrogator spoke not a word of Arabic and the suspect and higher-ups spoke not a word of English.
The interrogation went on as follows:
Interrogator: Rank and ID please.
Translator: (bewildered) That’s code. They always start their interrogations with code. They are spies, remember. Don’t answer.
In response to the suspect’s silence:
Interrogator: Cat got your tongue?
Translator: I’ll cut your tongue and feed it to animals.
At this, the suspect accused the interrogator of planning to torture him and asked that the Red Cross and human rights organizations be called.
Interrogator: Rocking the boat won’t get you off the hook.
Translator: I’ll take you on a boat trip and hit you with a hook and throw you on the rocks.
The suspect retorted that this would violate the understanding that interrogations will take place in here rather than anywhere else.
Interrogator: What are you rambling about? Clean up your act otherwise you’ll be left out in the cold.
Translator: You should have cleaned err… the crime scene, now I have to let you have the fridge torture where you’ll feel cold.
The suspect grew bolder and more defiant as he noticed that none of the interrogator’s torture threats were carried out so far. Noticing the new-found courage in the suspect, the interrogator struck back.
Interrogator: Look here old chap, you may have been a tough cookie in Lebanon, but in here I call the shots.
Translator: (after looking up the word ‘cookie’ in the dictionary) In Lebanon you were sweet as baklawa, but in here I shoot you when I want.
Empty threats, the suspect thought.
Interrogator: For your own interest you’ve got to spill the beans, gov’na.
Translator: O governor, you should bring me beans if you want me to look after your interests.
He is becoming more accommodating now, the suspect thought and offered his Al Madina Bank credit card as a bribe to the interrogator.
Interrogator: Let’s call a spade a spade, is this evidence as to why this bank went belly-up?
Translator: (after looking up the words ‘spade’ and ‘belly-up’ and pondering the connection) You ordered two shovels, did you pay for them with this card?
Shovels? He must be referring to the recent excavations, Jawad thought, and told the interrogator that as a man of standing in Lebanon he did not have do the spadework.
So, the natives did the dirty work, the interrogator thought he had a clue.
Interrogator: By hook or by crook I’ll make you talk
Translator: I am going to get the words out of your mouth with a crooked cleaver.
To that the suspect answered: I don’t advise you to use this method, it doesn’t work; I tried it once with a poor devil, but when he decided to talk I found out he couldn’t.
Disturbed by the display of callousness, the investigator’s tone hardened.
Interrogator: Wait till I nail you in the corner, then you’ll sing
Translator: I’ll tear your nails out and you’ll feel so much pain that you will sing
They must have gotten hold of one of those nail removers we got from Eastern Europe, the suspect mused. Copycats!
Interrogator: I thought you should know that we got the smoking gun
Translator: I’ll use err.. a special gun on you
As long as he’s just threatening I hope he’ll show me that thing, I might adopt the instrument in my interrogations if I survive this, Jawad thought.
Exasperated, the interrogator decided to wrap up the session.
Interrogator: I won’t go on whipping a dead horse much longer
Translator: Jawad, I’ll whip you till you are dead and stop after that.
That’s a spine-chilling threat, he's giving me more ideas, Jawad thought.
The investigator thought he should leave the suspect worried about a few conjectures he’ll be making in his report.
Interrogator: A lot still needs to be clarified, so I’ll have to take a few shots in the dark to complete my report.
Translator: I’ll shoot you many times at night when it is dark and finish my report.
I wish the guys from al ajhizeh would come and deliver me from this frenzied Englishman before nightfall, Jawad prayed silently.
A statement that says it all
Most of today’s newspapers in Lebanon carried the tritest statement to have ever hit the headlines: The state budget needs to be balanced either by increasing taxes or by reducing public spending.
No kidding. I read the story and can vouch the statement has no facetious undertones or overtones. So no matter how you take it, it’s a feat. Someone should call the Nobel Foundation and report this; they have a candidate for their 2006 Prize in here, a sure winner.
Fully aware of the constraints that the statement refers to, the majority of Lebanese have been clamoring for a reduction in government spending and misspending for nearly a decade. In response to their demands, successive governments have continued to bludgeon the economy with taxes. When will this end? Next February when ‘donor’ countries meet in Beirut?
The government may have a credible plan for reforms leading to the downsizing of the public administration. But will the ‘donors’ be convinced that the plan can be implemented in a context of serious political discord? The World Bank doesn’t seem to be betting on the possibility of the reforms plan unfolding anytime soon.
No kidding. I read the story and can vouch the statement has no facetious undertones or overtones. So no matter how you take it, it’s a feat. Someone should call the Nobel Foundation and report this; they have a candidate for their 2006 Prize in here, a sure winner.
Fully aware of the constraints that the statement refers to, the majority of Lebanese have been clamoring for a reduction in government spending and misspending for nearly a decade. In response to their demands, successive governments have continued to bludgeon the economy with taxes. When will this end? Next February when ‘donor’ countries meet in Beirut?
The government may have a credible plan for reforms leading to the downsizing of the public administration. But will the ‘donors’ be convinced that the plan can be implemented in a context of serious political discord? The World Bank doesn’t seem to be betting on the possibility of the reforms plan unfolding anytime soon.
Keep on tightening
Lebanese bankers met yesterday and served the public an advice that sounded more like a warning, a threat even: You would have to tighten your belts for long years to come.
Now that’s a sound advice, especially since it’s coming from bankers, you would say. You have to give it to them, their words carry weight. But isn’t the warning-cum-advice redundant, and doubly so if you want my opinion?
For one, bankers have been tightening everyone else’s belts for long years past. ‘Everyone else’ that is excluding themselves and the State Treasury. So evidently, if you don’t tighten your belt willingly, they’ll do it for you regardless of how you feel about it.
Another reason why the warning is redundant has to do with the fact that belts are slackening anyway and have to be tightened not in compliance with the bankers’ diktat but to counter gravity pull. If this pull takes effect, trouser-wearers would be sanctionable under the public decency law rather than by bankers.
Why would bankers then issue a redundant warning? IMHO this is a political statement that says: ”We have enough economic clout to cause hardship, so you would better give us the political place we deserve.”
There is a lot of truth in this. Bankers have wide-perimeter belts that are very elastic. Over nearly two decades, these fat cats of the system have sucked in sizeable resources. And the belts .. well. they are key instruments in the accentuation and perpetuation of the grossly uneven distribution of incomes and wealth in the country. How else do you think the country has the highest income per capita in the region (excluding Israel and oil-producing Arab Gulf states) while nearly 40 percent of its households survive below, at, or near the poverty line?
So no matter what you do with your belt, don’t upset your banker.
Now that’s a sound advice, especially since it’s coming from bankers, you would say. You have to give it to them, their words carry weight. But isn’t the warning-cum-advice redundant, and doubly so if you want my opinion?
For one, bankers have been tightening everyone else’s belts for long years past. ‘Everyone else’ that is excluding themselves and the State Treasury. So evidently, if you don’t tighten your belt willingly, they’ll do it for you regardless of how you feel about it.
Another reason why the warning is redundant has to do with the fact that belts are slackening anyway and have to be tightened not in compliance with the bankers’ diktat but to counter gravity pull. If this pull takes effect, trouser-wearers would be sanctionable under the public decency law rather than by bankers.
Why would bankers then issue a redundant warning? IMHO this is a political statement that says: ”We have enough economic clout to cause hardship, so you would better give us the political place we deserve.”
There is a lot of truth in this. Bankers have wide-perimeter belts that are very elastic. Over nearly two decades, these fat cats of the system have sucked in sizeable resources. And the belts .. well. they are key instruments in the accentuation and perpetuation of the grossly uneven distribution of incomes and wealth in the country. How else do you think the country has the highest income per capita in the region (excluding Israel and oil-producing Arab Gulf states) while nearly 40 percent of its households survive below, at, or near the poverty line?
So no matter what you do with your belt, don’t upset your banker.
Of dates and colors
It is understandable that people be worked up about the news; after all, what’s happening in Vienna, New York, Damascus and Baghdad is important. But I wish the news would give us an inkling as to where we would be a few years from now.
Who is minding the economy? Anyone in the cockpit? Or are we heading straight into the wall, on autopilot?
Will the economy be able to generate enough new jobs and decent standards of living for all resident Lebanese? And I mean Lebanese from all colors: Reds and whites, greens and oranges, yellows and purples. And I also mean Lebanese from all calendar days: March 14 as well as March 8, and why not the May 25, and surely November 22, not to forget April 13 and October 13, and May 6 to be sure, and April 26 to top it all, and pride of place for the pranksters of April 1.
Would this mishmash help reduce the confessional-political divide that is blocking any prospect for reform and threatening to rip the country apart?
Without a sturdy economic recovery triggered by radical administrative and fiscal reforms, all colors would fade and all dates would merge into a grey, bleak twilight.
The good thing about bad governance
I wonder how the present ministerial team would be judged a few years down the road, but being an incorrigible optimist I would say that they would be judged positively. They should go down in the history of latter-day Phoenicia as having tried to start planting the idea in the public’s mind on the necessity of seriously beginning to contemplate attempting to pave the grounds for the emergence of a situation whereby the process of gently starting to apply the brakes on corruption would be facilitated.
Decision makers don’t like to be hurried. They have taken the right direction and the masses should be grateful to them for that.
By the turn of the millennium they should be proven right as the public administration will have probably purged itself of some of the vortices of corruption, but the road ahead would still be a long one. Things take time, you know, and good things are worth waiting for. Besides, the Lebanese think centuries ahead and their actions naturally take centuries to unfold; they owe the ‘long-term-planning’ gene to their Phoenician origins. Of course by that time the country’s name would have changed a dozen times more, and with luck the appellation ‘Lebanon’ would again be chosen for the stretch of land, so people living in that distant future will be able to say Lebanon is fighting corruption.
Come to think of it, why precipitate things and risk regretting this alacrity later? Generations in this millennium need to know more about the theory and practice of bad governance. Therein lies a weighty competitive advantage. Lebanon could establish an institute that teaches the art; better still a university with a research center that covers the region and also a publishing house and why not a hands-on lab facility. The country would attract students from all over the world and charge high tuition fees. The economic spillover effects of such a venture would be ample to say the least.
To be fair, Lebanon has yet to produce blue-ribbon experts in the subject and the book on bad governance was written elsewhere, but brilliant and innovative practitioners of the art abound in the country. With proper encouragement, motivation and incentives they should qualify to start publishing a “Bad Governance for Dummies” series.
Decision makers don’t like to be hurried. They have taken the right direction and the masses should be grateful to them for that.
By the turn of the millennium they should be proven right as the public administration will have probably purged itself of some of the vortices of corruption, but the road ahead would still be a long one. Things take time, you know, and good things are worth waiting for. Besides, the Lebanese think centuries ahead and their actions naturally take centuries to unfold; they owe the ‘long-term-planning’ gene to their Phoenician origins. Of course by that time the country’s name would have changed a dozen times more, and with luck the appellation ‘Lebanon’ would again be chosen for the stretch of land, so people living in that distant future will be able to say Lebanon is fighting corruption.
Come to think of it, why precipitate things and risk regretting this alacrity later? Generations in this millennium need to know more about the theory and practice of bad governance. Therein lies a weighty competitive advantage. Lebanon could establish an institute that teaches the art; better still a university with a research center that covers the region and also a publishing house and why not a hands-on lab facility. The country would attract students from all over the world and charge high tuition fees. The economic spillover effects of such a venture would be ample to say the least.
To be fair, Lebanon has yet to produce blue-ribbon experts in the subject and the book on bad governance was written elsewhere, but brilliant and innovative practitioners of the art abound in the country. With proper encouragement, motivation and incentives they should qualify to start publishing a “Bad Governance for Dummies” series.
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