Lebanese voters wait outside a polling station during the municipal elections in May 2010. The country's parliamentary elections are less than a year away. Mohamed Azakir / Reuters
Lebanese voters wait outside a polling station during the municipal elections in May 2010. The country's parliamentary elections are less than a year away. Mohamed Azakir / Reuters

Among Lebanese voters expat factor a formidable presence



Lebanon's parliamentary elections are less than a year away and already there is a buzz in the air. With the economy on the ropes,violence in the streets and a chronic electricity shortage that is at its worst since the early 1990s, you would imagine that these would be the hot ticket items in the bid to win over the voters. But this is Lebanon and they aren't.

The battle between the competing March 14 and March 8 blocs is over which electoral system to adopt - how the districts are divided can determine who will win the most seats.

Other than that, and as far as I can tell the only other real election issue is Hizbollah's weapons, essentially do Lebanese want another war with Israel?

It's gripping stuff but it gives absolutely no indication as to how anyone intends to make the country work.

It is a sad irony that in a country that has demonstrated to the world over many thousands of years that it practically invented entrepreneurship, the state has always had no idea how to support this talent. Successive elections have come and gone and not one party or bloc has woken up to the Bill Clinton campaign mantra that it really is the economy, stupid, and run on a ticket of building a clear road map for prosperity.

And let's face it, the Lebanese are not stupid. They know their political class is shot through with mediocrity. But as long as the nation's cash registers are ringing, they will play along. However, for the first time in the 20 years I have been in Lebanon, I sense patience is wearing thin.

One only has to look at Iran, where the currency is in freefall, losing 80 per cent of its value since the beginning of this year, and where I will wager people care more about their livelihoods than they do about their country's nuclear programme that is hitting their pockets.

Back in Lebanon, the problems are there for all to see and could be solved by a group of MBA students in a single seminar. The state needs to generate revenues, primarily to fill up the foreign currency reserves to protect the Lebanese pound and service the national debt.

It needs a monetary policy and a banking culture whereby banks offer more corporate lending and fixed-income products to create value for the economy. It needs a genuine investment environment, greater focus on the hitherto neglected sectors such as industry and agriculture and a commitment to invest in infrastructure, leading to eventual privatisation.

This should be someone's election pledge.

But there may be a game-changer. For amid the bickering over electoral boundaries is the issue that dare not speak its name: the expatriate vote. Until a law was passed in 2008, Lebanese citizens who were living or working abroad were not allowed to cast their ballot at their local embassy or consulate.

Instead, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Lebanese, many from as far away as Australia, were jetted in for the 2005 and 2009 polls courtesy of the various political parties. The only obligation was a vote for their man or list. For people eager to see friends and family, it was a no-brainer. It was comical and it was shameful.

This time the onus is on the foreign ministry to make it possible for the diaspora to show up and vote without being bribed, and this is what makes the political class nervous.

With no incentive other than wanting what's best for their country, those pesky "liberalised" expatriate Lebanese, who do not march to the primitive drum beat of local politics, and who by the way are responsible for repatriating at least US$13 billion (Dh47.74bn) a year into the economy, may find they can punch above their weight.

Indeed they are the only sector of the economy on which Lebanon can rely. The country ignores them at its peril.

Michael Karam is a writer based in Beirut