There are some in Lebanon who would like to believe that the Sunni leadership situation in the country is precarious, potentially leading the community to disorganization and disarray. They somehow equate the declared exit of former Prime Minister Saad Hariri from public life to a vacuum in the “traditional Sunni leadership” (Za3ame Suniyye). While they point to other known figures within the Sunni community and others emerging, they claim that none rise to the level; and they evidence recent polls, which found that no one had favorability ratings higher than 3%, except for Saad Hariri at a paltry 18%.
Several questions beg themselves.
First: What does “traditional Sunni leadership” (Za3ame Suniyye) really mean? To answer this question, perhaps we need to look at Lebanese post-independence history and the main figures from the community. Interestingly, what we find is that the Sunni community does not have as much static or enduring “zaim” figures as other communities. As an example, Lebanese Maronites have had only 12 Presidents, Shiites 7 Speakers, while Sunnis have had 26 different Prime Ministers—18 of them from totally different families, most of whom have exited politics altogether. Families that had more than one figure, like the Solh, Salam, and Karame families, barely lasted more than a generation. Arguably, Rafik Hariri attempted to become a Za'im, but since his assassination, much of that leadership has dissipated. His son and successor Saad recently exited the scene; and his other son, Bahaa, who now seems to aspire for a community leadership role recently polled at less than 2%. The lack of political dynasties and the shuffling of leadership in the Sunni community both cast a shadow on the notion --or even existential importance-- of a “traditional Sunni leader” or Za’im.
It is as telling to try and understand why there hasn’t been
dynastic dominance within the community as say in the Druze or Shiite communities.
Several reasons may explain this, among which is the community’s relatively diversified
centers of power between the coastal cities of Tripoli, Beirut, and Saida (all of which
has now expanded to other regional cities like Dubai, Riyadh, and Doha). The abundance
of educated families from mercantile and banking backgrounds has been a fertile
ground for leaders, which stood in stark contrast to feudal backgrounds in some
Lebanese communities in the mountains and rural areas, restricting options. Related to this is the
fact that traditional existential insecurity, present in other Lebanese communities
never really existed within the Sunni community, given the Turkish and Arab hinterland,
both of which are Sunni. This basically negated the need for "protection" strongmen,
replacing them instead with institutions and traditional families. With the exception
of Rafik Hariri, who tried for a limited time but was hindered, no single family
or figure could truly claim dominance over the Sunni community since independence.
And so, when people warn of the absence of “traditional Sunni
Leadership” as an existential threat to the community, they are actually breaking
away from the more politically diversified and somewhat egalitarian history of
the community, which could be seen as a source of strength not weakness. The
diversity and security of the Sunni community has permitted its transitory
leaders to carry a nationalist agenda, first in the establishment of the state,
then in its development, and ultimately in trying to keep it together. Several would
pay the ultimate price for doing so. The first post-Independence Prime Minister Riad Solh was assassinated for his Lebanese nationalist stance against the Syrian Social
Nationalists. Rashid Karame paid with his life because he refused to allow projects to be built at a time when they could have fractured the nation further. And Hariri
himself met the same fate because of his wish to disengage Lebanon from
regional conflict.
Yet all the while, the Lebanese Sunni community carried on forward,
never needing to establish ideological parties, carry arms, fight during the
civil war, or carry sectarian cleansing in any of their coastal cities.
And so, at a time when the entire nation finds itself in
flux and traditional community leadership models (za3amat) are beginning to
fall by the wayside, is it the time for Sunnis to attempt to search for one of
their own, who might carry the Sunni banner into the future? Or is it perhaps time
to double down on the more diversified nationalist approach, tapping the
educated resources within the community and putting it at the disposal of the entire
nation?
More than ever before, it seems Lebanon is in dire need today of a paradigm shift that takes the nation from a failing divisive sectarian state to one that unifies all citizens, giving them equal rights and privileges regardless of sect, gender, region, or race. Surely, the more democratized representation model of the past century of the Lebanese Sunni community can be put to good use to attempt this and serve the entire nation.
Indeed because they don't have the same constraints as other communities, emerging Sunni leaders may find themselves upon a historic opportunity to change the discourse from that of sect to that of nation, serving as an example to all the other communities.
What this also means is that much more so than needing a “traditional Sunni leader”, what the community and indeed Lebanon truly needs at the moment are community leaders that can help move them away from their ever-dwindling sectarian privileges and rather guide them towards a nationalist approach that eliminates privileges altogether, focusing instead on the citizen’s needs and rights.
Will such leaders be given a
chance by the community? Lebanon’s future might very well depend on it.
