An Autobiography

Friends at the Chiha Foundation asked me to introduce the new generation to the Lebanese Constitution, and to facilitate their access to a unique text. There is no obvious bridge between archival scholarship and constitutionalism in daily life, but I thought that a young and intellectually curious person coming to the text for the first time does not need to be snowed under in documentation which a seasoned scholar is trained over several years to examine. Together with the text adopted in 1926 and amended since into its current binding form, the present documents offer a solid starting base. For the Constitution itself, booklets in Arabic, French and English are available on various sites on the internet. Most useful are the text and translations prepared by the Ministry of Justice in the 1990s. Each booklet includes every article together with all its amendments since 1926. Bada'e'Press has also published a 'pocket book' Constitution which, as in the proverbial practice of a Supreme Court judge for the US Constitution, can be carried around on the inside of a jacket or in a small purse. They are all of easy access and there is no need to include them in the present book.

For other primary documents, two further collections are recommended. The minutes in Arabic of the Constitution's final deliberations from 19 to 23 May 1926 were published by Aḥmad al-Zein as Maḥāḍer Munāqashāt al-Dustūr al-Lubnānī wa Ta'dīlātuh 1926-90 (Minutes of the discussions about the Lebanese Constitution and its amendments), Beirut: Publications of the Chamber of Deputies 1993, 16-84. They record the comments of 'the fathers' of the Constitution on whom little is otherwise known. They are highly entertaining for the mood of the deliberations, the civil tone of the exchanges, and the subtle discussion on communitarianism. I refer to these minutes here as 'Zein', followed by the page number. Another set of primary documents was published by Antoine Hokayem in the form of 'Annex' to his La Genèse de la Constitution Libanaise de 1926, Antélias: Les Editions Universitaires du Liban 1996, 309-92. They are all in French and referred to here as 'Annex', followed by the number.

The above documentation is too elaborate for any novice curious about the Lebanese Constitution, armed only with goodwill and a cursory knowledge of Lebanese politics. The rest of this introduction caters more specifically to the newcomer who wants to be acquainted with the Lebanese founding text as it was elaborated at birth.

The Constitution of Chiha is remarkably clear and smooth, compared to others which have chosen lengthy paragraphs in the style of statutory common law. The reader will realise how much more elegant was Chiha's original prose when he reads the later amendments to his text, some of which are verbose and redundant. Constitutional language requires some acclimatization, so an effort is needed for the first time it is read.

'Biographies' of constitutions are available, generally erudite and hard of access. Alternatively, the road to a neophyte's interest could be a story told by the person who witnessed its birth and participated in the travaux préparatoires. One could imagine Michel Chiha or another key protagonist such as the French High Commissioner Henry de Jouvenel, two central figures in the making of the Lebanese Constitution, telling their story of its birth.

Yet the story could also be told by the Constitution itself in an autobiography of sorts. Constitutions are known as 'living documents'. They are born usually of a national trauma, a war of independence or of liberation, a short or long civil strife, a revolution. They can even result from the collapse of a country's banking system. Since a constitution has a birthdate and a life, why not have the Lebanese Constitution address the citizen? What can be more alluring than a constitution telling its own story and what it says to a young reader coming to it for the first time with an open mind? And since a constitution is a living document, why not use the present tense to remind the world that the Lebanese Constitution of 1926 is still alive?

I, the Constitution of the Lebanese Republic,…

… am a hundred years old in 2026. It is a long life, only a dozen other constitutions survive in the world as long as I do. Even my enduring namesakes in Germany and France are much younger. The first was born in 1949, the second in 1958.

Here is my story.

Beirut witnesses my birth in late May 1926. My genitors (what the old school calls my 'fathers') are the members of the Council of Representatives elected in the summer of 1925 under the French Mandate. The Mandate, decided by the League of Nations, provides the international legitimacy that put Lebanon formally under French rule.

My genitors meet on Wednesday 19 May 1926 to deliberate with a view to my adoption. My original text is drafted in French, but they use an Arabic translation, for most of them are not fluent in French. Already exhausted by six months of hard labour, they discuss me article-by-article and vote on each of my 102 articles by a majority of those present. They deliberate over eight sessions in four long days, and finish on Sunday May 23, at 1.30 am in the morning.

The constitutional deliberations in plenary are held in Arabic, with some interjections in French by Mr. Paul Souchier, which are translated simultaneously. A full record of my birth over these four final days exists. (Zein, 16-84) It is worth a detour for the sometimes rich and amusing discussions.

Who is Monsieur Souchier? A man of law, Souchier was detached from the French Conseil d'Etat, a famous administrative court in France where high officials work both as judges and as counsel to government. He arrives in Beirut in January and works for the High Commissioner for Lebanon and Syria, Henry de Jouvenel. The HC has been in Beirut since early December and soon expresses his wish that the Lebanese be in charge of drafting me, albeit not unconditionally. During the deliberations, Souchier reminds the drafters of a crucial caveat which they must keep in mind, namely that France retains its power in the two most important areas of Lebanese daily life: securing the peace against domestic and outside danger and conducting foreign representation. Lebanon does not exist in the world system as a normal, independent country. Lebanon is an official ward of the League of Nations, and France is the warden. Other than that, de Jouvenel wants the Lebanese to own their Constitution.

The section detailing French retained power is mostly parked in five articles under "Title V", entitled 'the Mandatory power and the League of Nations' (Arts. 90 to 94). Title V no longer exists. Title V is, as they say, of 'mere historical interest'. If you look at the general outline of my structure in the table below, you notice the big void of missing articles towards the end. They are happily abrogated, cancelled, annulled, put to eternal sleep, upon Lebanon gaining its independence in 1943, and the fact that they are parked at the end of the text makes it much easier to drop them. The numbering of the rest of the articles goes undisturbed.

You will also notice that Title VI appears in my final text, but that DOC 1 does not mention any of its articles. Out of the seven articles in Title VI consecrated to 'final and transitory measures' (Arts. 95 to 102), five no longer matter. They are also of mere historical interest.

Comparative table of my finally adopted text and my first manuscript

*Note the awkwardly missing name to Title III in my final text. Also note the obvious lacunas under Titles V and VI in DOC 1.

I am born therefore not quite a charter for enslavement nor that of a nonage, but the Lebanese representatives who write me know that France is not about to leave. Henry de Jouvenel is a civilian. He is appointed because his predecessor, General Maurice Sarrail, is brutal with local Syrians who rise against harsh French rule. He even bombs Damascus over Syrian resistance to his policies. Sarrail's heavy handedness is met with dismay which grows into a full-fledged revolt. I am born in the throes of what history remembers as the Great Syrian Revolt. I survive nevertheless.

Among the major communities in Lebanon -- the Christian Maronites, the Muslim Sunnis and the Muslim Shi'is --, only the Christians, and not all of them, support Lebanon as a country separate from the larger Syria. Of the Christians, the Maronites form the largest group and their Church is particularly powerful.

The gradual return of peace in Syria is often associated with French military superiority over the rebels. This is true, but I play a more important role than weapons, and I believe that the decision of de Jouvenel to let the Lebanese themselves write and adopt me is the major factor behind the end of the rebellion. I can see its soothing effects develop in the reception of 'the Dammous questionnaire,' a wide consultation of prominent Lebanese figures across the country that takes place in the first two months of 1926.

The Dammous questionnaire is first ignored by several Sunni notables, especially in Tripoli, where they do not wish to give legitimacy to a Lebanese constitution. Sunnis slowly rally to the constitutional process. Moreover, in my early days the representatives of the Shi'i community rally to my drafting. Shi'is are looked upon as renegades during the four centuries of Ottoman rule. In his cunning wisdom, de Jouvenel recognizes Shi'ism on a fully equal footing with the other Lebanese communities on 27 January 1926. The recognition secures my acceptance by the second largest Muslim community in the country. My genesis and birth also become a model for Syria. De Jouvenel does not remain in office long enough for the exercise carried out in Beirut to be replicated in Damascus, but he agrees, while still in charge, that Syria not be divided into smaller independent states.

France considers itself mandated by the League of Nations to hold Lebanon's hand and guide it to independence, but it gives the Lebanese a hard time before letting go. I am suspended, amended, or systematically ignored during my early life under the Mandate. For my revival and coming of age upon Independence in 1943, it takes no less than a second world war, the German occupation of France, a largely forgotten assault by British troops coming up from Palestine and defeating the French Vichyites in June 1941, and a national revolt supported by an ultimatum from Great Britain to France to release the Lebanese deputies who are imprisoned in November 1943 because they demand independence. But I digress.

My genitors, all thirty of them or so who constitute 'the Council of Representatives', are rebaptized 'deputies' upon my promulgation in May 1926, and I call myself the Constitution of 'the Lebanese Republic'. One missing representative throughout the final deliberations is key to my genesis. His absence is a mystery, for he is the man whose central role in my drafting is widely acknowledged. We do not know this for a fact until these CCP emerge, but he is the author of my very first manuscript, DOC 1 in this book. He continues revising it through several versions to take on board comments by others and edits agreed in committees and side meetings with the French authorities in Beirut and in Paris. (DOCs 1 to 10)

His name is Michel Chiha.

Every day during the final deliberations, Chiha excuses himself to his colleagues on the grounds of bad health. Is he really unwell, or is he unhappy with something or someone? This remains a matter of speculation. Yet his craftmanship is stunning in drawing the right structure for my various key titles and in sculpting the right wording in various articles. Comparing his initial version with my final text gives us an appreciation of his talents.

Michel Chiha is almost 35 when he starts drafting me. Born in 1891 in the small village of Bmakkin in Mount Lebanon, he belongs to a Catholic family originating in Iraq. He is trilingual, having studied in Egypt and worked in England, but he is most comfortable in French. At the time of my conception, he is known for his intellect and for the strong impression he makes on an influential previous interim High Commissioner by the name of Robert de Caix. He is persuaded by his Sunni friends, ʻUmar Bayhum and ʻUmar Da'uq, to run on a ticket with them for the Council of Representatives in the Beirut electoral circumscription. He becomes an officially elected representative, which is my good luck, in the summer of 1925.

Chiha's presence as one of the 30 representatives in the Council allows him to be elected as a member of the smaller committee, called Conseil du Statut Organique, which is in charge of elaborating me. Chiha is a man of vision and of several trades. Trained in law and a member of the newly established Beirut bar, he does not enjoy public life and decides not to run again for parliament in the next election, in 1929. Chiha is quite the maverick: a devoted family man, later a rich banker, a newspaper founder and editor of two dailies, one in French, the other in English, a daily columnist, a poet, and a close advisor to the first president of the independent Lebanese Republic. Chiha builds solid institutions. I am one of them, and furthermore, I am the most enduring.

He and I live at a confluence of tumultuous times. Why do the French suddenly decide to let him and his Lebanese peers draft me? In historical terms, the Syrian revolt forces France to let go in a gesture of goodwill to the local population. In legal terms, it is France's solemn duty under the League of Nations, which mandates it to create a statut organique. These two terms become the magic word on the road to independence, but translating statut organique into Arabic is awkward. Two years previous to my announcement, a constitution, a dustur, had been adopted in Egypt. The name 'Statut Organique' is slowly pushed away and replaced by 'Constitution'. I am happy not to be a statut organique.

I am announced by High Commissioner Henry de Jouvenel on 4 December 1925, at a meeting of the Council of Representatives which he convenes two days after he lands in Beirut aboard Le Sphinx, a ship which makes a regular five-day trip from Beirut to Marseilles via Alexandria and back. When de Jouvenel tells the members of the Council of Representatives to draft a 'constitution', they cannot believe that France is entrusting them with such an important task. Once reassured, they immediately set to work.

There are some remarkable people in the Council, coming from all over the country. Among the most articulate participants are several jurists: lawyer Musa Nammour, the head of the Council, Chebl Dammous, a one-time judge and fine orator, lawyer Petro Trad, who briefly becomes president of the country in 1943, Subhi Haidar, a notable from the Bekaa region who studied law in Istanbul, and ʻUmar Beyhum and ʻUmar Da'uq, two notable Beiruti merchants. Jamil Talhuq is a physician from Aley famous for treating the poor for free and Youssef al-Khazen is a seasoned journalist who also studied law and who contributes the most enlightened comments during the discussions. Most of my fathers are not well known, unfortunately, even though each deserves his own biography.

My thirty genitors emerge from the elections carried out in the summer of 1925 under a two-tier sectarian electoral law, so I come to life on a heavily sectarian scene. The Lebanese representatives are not simple citizens. They come with a legal tag: Maronite, Druze, Sunni, Shi'i… All Lebanese are inevitably part of their religious community, whether they wish it or not, and whether they are religious or not. I do not escape this reality. Some of my genitors try to spare my being drawn up along a religious sect-based framework. They fail.

Still, they work hard in two directions to bring me into existence. A large consultation of the population is put into place with the Dammous questionnaire. This is a remarkable process for the time, and Chebl Dammous, 'the Greek Orthodox representative for Zahle', does a good job organizing the national consultation. The twelve questions are general but pertinent, such as: do the Lebanese prefer a republic or a monarchy? A presidential or a parliamentary system? Do they wish parliament to be unicameral or do they want an upper chamber? The questionnaire includes the most delicate question: do they wish to have a system of sectarian representation or a secular government like France? The questionnaire is sent to notables, professionals, religious figures, and businessmen across the country. The Dammous committee sifts through the answers as they are sent back and consolidates them in an excellent summary (available in French, Annex 7). The full questionnaire and many answers received are preserved in a family archive which I look forward to seeing published.

While the Dammous consultation is afoot to enlighten the Lebanese Representatives, their Council is busy drafting me. Committees and sub-committees are formed for the challenging exercise of hammering down a new social contract for Lebanon and its myriad communities. There is no deadline assigned, but all know that the Henry de Jouvenel, the new High Commissioner, might not stay in office for long, and that the French Senate to which he belongs is holding his seat for him with a view to his quick return.

Three main phases mark my progress over the next few months. The first phase lasts from 4 December 1925, when de Jouvenel tells the Lebanese they are in charge of compiling me, to 15 February 1926, when the overall planning is agreed and committees become fully functional. Soon after de Jouvenel's announcement that I should be written by the Lebanese, the CR holds its first plenary meeting and elects a 13-member Conseil du Statut Organique (CSO), with the CR president Musa Nammour at its head, and representatives Michel Chiha and Chebl Dammous as prominent members. On 14 December 1925, the CR Plenary meets again to decide who would prepare an outline and a work plan, and creates a subcommittee of five members, including Chiha and Dammous. But Dammous does not know French, and is busy with the national questionnaire, which is sent out on 28 December to notables across the country. On 6 January 1926, the Plenary CR meets again to formulate me in general terms. The CSO meets ten days later to discuss the responses to the Dammous questionnaire which are now trickling in. You recall that several Sunni notables refuse to take part in the Dammous consultation, but the mood changes and several Muslim leaders, including prominent members of the Shi'i community, are now well engaged in my elaboration.

On 5 February 1926, various sources mention the appointment of a two (or three)-member drafting subcommittee. Chiha's name is certain, and he holds the pen during the drafting process. The other member is in all likelihood lawyer Petro Trad. I do not recall who the third member is, if indeed there is a third member. No doubt Souchier and Nammour are active onlookers as I grow.

We now enter the phase of writing. This second phase lasts from February to mid-April. The constitutional draft progresses quickly. Chiha probably completes the first manuscript in the first half of February (DOC 1). I say probably because that key document and most of the other documents in the Chiha CCP do not carry a date. My exact timeline remains a puzzle in the absence of dates in the CCP and other surviving documents. The reader is free to reconstruct the puzzle and add his own opinion on authorship of documents and comments.

The CCP include several 'preparatory works' and documents that Chiha consults, including foreign constitutions (DOC 16) and the Menassa project (DOC 22). We also have in the papers a partial draft by Chiha (DOC 19), as well as three full different drafts (DOCs 23 and 24, and the shorter DOC 25). For all these documents, their names, and their importance, the readers is offered some explanations before the different sets of documents in this book.

The key document for my birth is Chiha's beautifully written manuscript (DOC1). DOCs 2 to 4 are typed versions of DOC 1, with several edits, additions, insertions, substitutions, crossing outs. Between the second half of February and the first half of March, clean typed versions circulate amongst the members of the CSO and amongst French figures in the High Commission, who jot comments in the margins. (DOCs 5 to 8). Authorship of comments from French HC officials and/or from CSO members is difficult to identify, except for the writing in the margins of DOC 6. It is confirmed in July 2022 that the comments are by Henry de Jouvenel himself. It is also likely that Paul Souchier reacts extensively to one of the versions of DOC 6 in an extensive set of 'observations' (DOC 9).

On 25 March, a copy of the draft reaches the Arabic daily al-Ma'rad, but the newspaper does not publish it. In the last week of March or in the first week of April, the French Mandate clauses of Title V are added to the Lebanese section. (DOC 11) They are prepared by Souchier and the High Commission. Between 13 and 19 April 1926, the Lebanese part of DOC 11, i.e. Titles I to IV, are published in five instalments in the French daily L'Orient. An Arabic unofficial translation is published in al-Ahwal around the same time.

In a third phase, from mid-April to my formal adoption on 23 May, discussions over the draft continue in Beirut, while the finalized Avant-Projet is sent by de Jouvenel to Paris on 18 April. (Annex 9). The High Commission in Beirut is busy corresponding with Paris to defend that text. De Jouvenel assures French Prime Minister Aristide Briand that the French part secures the interests of France. On 17 May, Paris gives its final approval to the Avant-Projet received on 18 April.

Towards the end of March or the first week of April, advanced versions circulate in Beirut, including unofficial, ad hoc Arabic translations. By the second half of April, and in early May, printed documents in French (DOCs 12, 13) and in Arabic (DOC 14) surface in Beirut. Changes in the printed versions show that they are completed after the Avant-Projet is sent to Paris, so few are taken on board.

One exception is a key article which defines my sectarian character. On 17 May, Paris confirms its agreement with the Avant-Projet sent by de Jouvenel on the 18th of April. But the version which the Council of Representatives discusses between 19 and 22 May (Annex 10) is different from the text of the Avant-Projet (Annex 9). It includes this key article, Article 95, which decrees that the representation of the communities must be taken into account 'in the composition of the cabinet and in the administration'. It does so 'as a temporary measure', but I now know that the temporary can last for a very long time. Article 95 is amended in 1990, but its spirit remains as entrenched as ever. I am still characteristically sectarian.

In truth, the story of my famous (or infamous) Art. 95 is a more complex one, for the article does not emerge fully clad in its final shape in May 1926. Some language is adapted from other articles. Its picture needs to be refined, but the reconstruction would take too long here and might discourage the reader. The lengthy argument can be followed in MCLC. Alternatively, the reader could participate in the puzzle game and look into all the versions in this book for language relevant to the origins of Art. 95.

In the final part of the third phase, every one of my 102 articles is read and put to the CR plenary for discussion, except for those concerning the powers of the High Commission. Amendments are often suggested and put to vote. Sometimes also, the representatives are so much in disagreement that a final discussion of the article is postponed until the end of deliberations. In the early hours of Sunday 23 May, the CR finally approves a consolidated text. I am 'proclaimed' by de Jouvenel later that day. On 25 May, he appoints the members of the Senate.

In accordance with my final title on transitionary measures, the first president of the Republic, the Greek Orthodox Charles Debbas, a Francophile lawyer and journalist, is elected on 26 May by a Congress which includes the Senate and the Council of Deputies, the new name for the Council of Representatives. The newly elected President Debbas bids farewell to Henry de Jouvenel at the Beirut harbor on 27 May and on May 29, he forms the first government. I add "Lebanese Republic" in Art.101 to the "État du Grand Liban" proclaimed by the first High Commissioner six years earlier. Within a week of my proclaimed birth, the main institutions of the Lebanese Republic are in place.

My gestation lasts from 4 December 1925 to 23 May 1926, all in all slightly less than six months, 173 days exactly.

This Is What I Say…

It is not sufficient to know how I am born. What matters most is what I say or choose not to say.

I am short, compared with other namesakes. I like short. The call featured on a leading magazine's front page to 'bin' the 2004 European Union's constitutional project is a good reminder of the virtues of brevity. The EU citizens do exactly that, and its 448 longish articles now lie in the bins of history. As constitutions go, I am proud of the brevity of my articles, few but not too few, clear and to the point.

It helps to keep in mind what all constitutions are and share. Governments and politicians come and go while I stay on to provide a stable framework for all, irrespective of who is in power. Constitutions are written documents which form a social contract between the people of a nation. 'Social contract' language emerges in the writings of English and Scottish political philosophers in the 17th and 18th centuries. It is also the title chosen by Jean-Jacques Rousseau in one of his powerful treatises, Le Contrat Social (1762). Montesquieu is the other political philosopher who marks constitutions with his indelible mark. All constitutions are constructed under the separation of powers developed in Montesquieu's monumental L'Esprit des Lois (1748). The reader who seeks an understanding of constitutions as social contracts based on the separation of powers can read these two brilliant and sometimes trying texts, or a selection from their expressive excerpts and formulas. Most famously, Rousseau says that the Social Contract is based on law, and that 'law is the expression of the general will.' In L'Esprit des Lois, Montesquieu argues that 'when the legislative and executive powers are united in the same person, or in the same body of magistrates, there can be no liberty; …Again, there is no liberty, if the judicial power is not separated from the legislative and executive.'

The American Constitution of 1787 is the first social contract written by citizens on the basis of the separation of powers. It includes the basic components of all constitutions to come, and its seven articles can be assembled under the slightly awkward acronym LEJ(F)ARC, with each letter corresponding to a central component of the constitutional text in the successive articles. All constitutions include these six (or seven) components. No other central component has been imagined since.

The letters of the acronym do not need to be followed in a particular order.

In LEJ(F)ARC, L is for legislative power, E for executive power, J for the judiciary. (F) is for federalism in countries like the US or Germany where this mode of regional distribution of power operates. The parenthesis indicates that federalism can be rejected or ignored in other constitutions, including those adopted in France and in Lebanon. I am not a federal constitution, so F is not relevant to me.

A is for amendments. The constitution establishes a contract between the people over an undefined period of time. Amendments are sometime needed and are passed in a special procedure. Amendments are short and far in between. They are usually the result of a national shock, and they require a special and often difficult majority to be passed.

R is for ratification. Ratification is important when a constitution is first completed and fades into oblivion once the constitution is effective. A brief article suffices to establish it.

C is for the citizen's rights. This list of fundamental rights, also known as basic rights, forms the core of the entitlements of the citizen as against the state and its agencies, and as between citizens. In the original Constitution of the United States, it is called 'the ten amendments' and appears as an appendix to the main text. C was adopted separately in France in 1789 as the Déclaration des Droits de l'Homme et du Citoyen, and forms part of the Constitution of 1958. Citizen rights are usually enumerated at the beginning of a constitution, and I am no exception.

With LEJ(F)ARC in mind, I propose examining my text more closely. To find his bearings in a more effective way, the reader can slot each article under one of the six component letters of constitutional design. MCLC carries the exercise in detail for the first Chiha version and my text of 1926. Where each article sits amongst the six common components in all constitutions is a fun and useful approach to my 102 articles.

Reading me in one session, ca two hours. I suggest reading through my full text in one go, preferably the one in vigor at the moment, and which the reader will find on several internet sites. It should not take more than a couple of hours to read me with some attention, and to decide when reading where each article belongs in the LEJ(_)ARC grid. I will do this here for Titles, it is better done for each article, as some straddle L and E.

C for citizens' rights come at the beginning under Title I.

The enumeration of the powers for L, E, and J, is presented in Title II chapter 1.

L is included mostly in Title II chapter 2, which is entitled 'Legislative Power'.

E comes under Title II chapter 4, 'Executive Power.' There are two main issues to consider here: how the officials in charge of an institution are elected, appointed, or terminated, and the powers that the institution exercises. For a fuller appreciation of L and E and how their institutions relate to each other, the reader needs to go to other articles, located mainly in Title III chapter 3.

J Judicial power also features in section A of Title IV on the High Court as a special tribunal to try a president, which has not happened once in my lifetime.

(F) remains in parenthesis for now but is hotly debated in the post-1990 amendments.

A The Amendments are dispatched in two articles in Title III B.

R There is no specific mention of ratification, it operates at the end of my text in an article which abrogates all previous charters and laws.

Reading me in two sessions, one and a half hours, then half an hour. If too much information proves hard to digest in one go, the reader can split the reading into two sessions, also keeping in mind LEJ(F)ARC for each article.

In a first session lasting between an hour and an hour and a half, the focus in on Titles II and III, L and E, which form the core of Lebanese institutions and their power.

L The first three chapters of Title II explain who is entitled to become a deputy, and how legislative power vests in the CD, also known as parliament or national assembly. Legislative power was previously exercised by two chambers, the CD and the Senate meeting sometimes together as Congress. Congress and the Senate disappeared in 1927. The text is much simpler now without the myriad articles which concern the Senate.

E The last chapter of Title II, is about E and the prerogatives of the president and the council of ministers. E includes Title III A, which mentions in unusual detail when and how the president of the Republic is elected by the deputies.

In a second session of ca half an hour, the reader should cover Titles I (C), IV B, V and VI.

C Title I is straightforward, which concerns territory and basic rights.

L Title IV B addresses finances, mainly the budget, which are self-sustaining and probably too detailed for a constitution, and they would in any case sit better under L.

Title V and VI, at the tail end of my text, comprise a tenth of my original version which has fallen by the wayside by the time Independence was achieved. Arts. 90 to 94 in Title V as well as Arts. 96 to 100 in Title VI have all been abrogated when Lebanon became independent. In Title VI, only Art. 95 matters, which should be read carefully in its first version together with the amendments introduced in 1990. It stands at the heart of my communitarian character.

I need to single out Art. 95 because it is unique in world constitutionalism. It says roughly in its original form that the council of ministers and the high administration are to be sect-based. In its present form, post-1990, it is a longish article which suggests that the country should move away from sectarianism in stages. It is worth reading the two versions closely to start understanding how difficult it is to move away from the communitarian straitjacket, and perhaps to reflect, contrary to received wisdom, whether communitarianism is not behind my longevity.

I have been subject to several amendments since my birth. The most extensive reform is the one adopted a year only after my proclamation. It abolishes the Senate and all related articles, including the Congress composed of the Senate and the Chamber of Deputies in the first year of my existence. The Senate is a cumbersome addition to the constitutional system, and Chiha warns against complicating an already overburdened sectarian system with another legislative chamber. "The Ta'ef National Document" reintroduced the idea of a Senate in amendments passed in 1990, but the Senate remains stuck on paper. If and when resurrected as an upper chamber representing the religious communities, as the Ta'ef agreement requests, the relations of a 'sectarian Senate' with the 'secular Chamber of Deputies' will be even more complex than the ones faced in its short one-year life. If bicameralism revives the Senate as part of a federal system, the complications will be even more daunting. One should think carefully before reintroducing the Senate.

I say quite a few things. There is also a lot which I do not say.

…and what I do not say

The reader, embarking on reading a constitution for the first time, should be warned. A constitution is also what it does not say. Where are political parties? Where is the electoral system? Where is the sectarian part in my case?

There are reasons why these important questions are not readily answered in my text, first for what seems to be glaringly missing. I do not mention political parties because constitutions rarely mention them. I avoid telling their members how to establish them, write their program, organize their internal statutes, choose their committees and leaders, participate in national elections, or put their promises to the people in effect. I simply trust political parties not to depart from my principles, mainly by letting other parties compete with them under my canopy. Political parties come under 'freedom of association' in most constitutions, and I follow the trend. Not even one article in my text is fully related to political parties. You will find a fleeting mention on 'la liberté de réunion' somewhere in C.

I do not mention national elections either, other than in a passing but important article. This might also come as a surprise. Like most other constitutions, I leave electoral laws to the legislature. I do not wish to impose a particular district or circumscription. I mention, at the beginning of my text, that the country is divided in circumscriptions, but I do not specify them. The electoral law is free to take them as a basis or choose instead the smaller district known as qada' -- cazas in French, pronounced as it was during the Ottoman period when these divisions were first established. Over the past century, electoral laws have chosen one or the other circumscription, sometimes a mix of both, depending on the policy of the government in power.

What 'electoral law' is there a passing reference to?

My original text refers to elections for part of the Senate, absent since 1927 when it was abolished. With no Senate in the country's history, the question of its election does not arise. For the elections of parliamentary deputies however, reference is made in several articles to 'the electoral law', and only in one case is the law specified. This is Arrêté 1307 of 1922 which predates me, and which appears in Article 22 of the Constitution as adopted in 1926. Arrêté 1307 is important as a template. It is a full electoral law which is religious community-based law, and its communitarian format is repeated in every single electoral law since. Without it, Lebanon cannot be understood, then or now.

The format established in Arrêté 1307 gives shape to the country's communitarian spirit and suffuses nearly everything. Parliament is formed in accordance with the communitarian seats designed by the successive electoral laws. Electoral laws decide how many circumscriptions, their names, the territory they cover to collect the vote, the day or days for the election, and another myriad details which any national election requires. In Lebanon, the electoral law does more because of the sectarian arrangements decided by the law. This explains why, when I am being discussed in the first half of 1926, Umar Bayhum is the representative then deputy for the Sunni seat of Beirut and Chebl Dammous the deputy for the Greek Orthodox seat of Zahle.

In turn, Parliament gives confidence to a sectarian government. It is also sectarian when it elects a Maronite president, a Shi'i Speaker, and, slightly indirectly, a Sunni Prime Minister. You will not find this mentioned at all in my text. These denominations at the top, and the powers of each, have fluctuated over the century for historical reasons resulting from the so-called National Pact of 1943 and the Ta'ef Agreement of 1989 but the logic of constitutional sectarianism suffuses all my institutions. For parliament, it finds its basis in the electoral law which I refer to. For the cabinet and the administration, including by osmosis the judiciary, it rests on Art. 95.

Electoral laws are therefore a main point of anchor to understand how the country works, and political parties depend on electoral laws that shape them into the sectarian format they are corraled into, despite sometimes valiant efforts by their founders to be secular in action and national in scope. In turn, electoral laws reflect the number of members in each community, and these numbers fluctuate. In the 19th century, the demographic exuberance worked in favour of the Christians of Lebanon, including the Maronite community which is the largest. The Lebanese population grew through the 20th and 21st centuries to the disadvantage of the Christian communities. I say nothing about this, but it is the elephant in the Lebanese room.

I leave you with a more detailed guide for the documents and their order in this book. Most of them are not dated, and their sequencing is the result of painstaking research undertaken in MCLC. The DOCs are listed here with headings as they appear on the front page in each.

What you say is what matters now.

To facilitate your work through the fun maze of preparatory works, I have added a timeline for the progress of the Constitution, and a List of the CCP can be found just before this Preface.