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It may seem somewhat frivolous, to contemplate geopolitical issues in an environment such as the beaches of the Caribbean. And yet, there is no place that is eternally predestined for relaxation and always immune to the clamour of the world.
On 2 August 1990, I was in Las Vegas finishing a grand tour of the American West when the world learned that S. Hussein had invaded Kuwait. I called my Ambassador in New York, who, in that month of August – due to the principle of a rotating monthly presidency – was chairing for France the UN Security Council. He sounded nervous, which was very unusual for him, facing an event that was bound to have considerable consequences. It was definitely time to forget about the summer break and get back to work. Indeed, the workload continued day and night for months, with Council meetings, including at weekends, until the Gulf war.
Security Council Resolution 678, adopted on 29 November 90, authorised the use of “all necessary means” to enforce Iraq’s withdrawal from Kuwait; the deadline was set for 15 January 1991. Despite diplomatic efforts (see President Mitterrand’s statement to the UN General Assembly in November 1990: “If Saddam Hussein shows his intention to withdraw from Kuwait, then everything will be possible”), Iraq’s intransigence appeared total and it was clear that war was looming. During the week leading up to it (NB: the first strikes on Baghdad took place on 16 January), Ambassador Blanc, who had never been under any illusions, surprisingly encouraged his staff to take some time off. I took a trip to Cancun and through the wonderful Yucatan. Was it possible to forget for a while the drums of war that were rumbling and whose long-term consequences are still felt today?
In Damascus, time was not the same. The 10,000 years of history had learnt to bend to other rhythms, other demands and hierarchies of priorities. Just as in the shade of the high walls of the Damascene houses in the old town, cradled by the spray of water from the central basin of the inner courtyard, people talked at nightfall for all eternity. The essence was there, in this concrete exchange, seemingly innocuous, but ultimately serious (…)
In Beirut, the western quarters, the corniche, the lighthouse, the military baths, all these mythical places known from history, were also the scene of recent tragedies, those of the civil war. All the Mediterranean was there in a nutshell: a place of opulent life that the elements alone offered, but a tragic destiny (…); Beirut was a kind of Sisyphean rock of the good life, ambitions and pleasure, a miracle of permanent rebirth. The comfort of the corniche, the volumes, the rich and voluptuous decoration of the homes, brought to life a kind of waking Orientalism, reminding us of our dreams (…)
In Iran and the Strait of Hormuz, an American president is talking about a pleasant “excursion”…
(video: A. Jacob)
