Lebanon begins to remember.

I have had a small involvement with the entry by an Oregonian architectural firm, Murase Associates, in a competition to build a `garden of forgiveness' at the heart of Beirut. Its imaginative design has benefited from consultation with a spiritual advisory group, made up of men and women from the Portland community who have links with Lebanon or experience with forgiveness.

This year is the 25th anniversary of the beginning of Lebanon's civil war, and the tenth anniversary of its end. Until now Beirut has had no public memorial for the victims of that war. The competition is organized by a Lebanese company entrusted with the reconstruction and development of the historic core of the city.

The architectural concept paper begins with words from a Lebanese student: `Forgiveness is an expression of tolerance and love, the subordination of hatred and vengeance. Forgiveness is, above all, a human necessity and a means to live. Without forgiveness friendships end, love terminates, and eventually the beauty of life ceases to refine our senses. Without forgiveness no one will ever learn from a mistake or bad luck but will be blinded by retaliation and killed by pride.'

The architects' vision starts, `A garden in which people can gather strength and inspiration, a place for calm and gentle reflection. A garden for individual introspection, a sanctuary accessible to all ... which nurtures sentiments of peace, joy, healing, blessings and humanity.'

An important forgiveness-related initiative happened in Beirut recently. An-Nahar, a leading Beirut daily, printed a letter from Asaad Shaftari, the former second-in-command of the partisan Lebanese Forces during the war. According to American journalist Charles Sennott of the Boston Globe, the letter's simplicity and honesty stunned the country. He reported it under the front-page headline, `Apology of Lebanese figure breaks silence on civil war'.

Shaftari, addressing his victims, living and dead, publicly asked forgiveness for the thousands of deaths for which he and his Christian militia were responsible. `I apologize for the horror of war and what I did in this civil war in the name of "Lebanon" or "the cause" or "Christianity".' He said his apology was something he had wanted to do for ten years but never had the courage. `I apologize because while defending what I thought was Christianity I was not practising any kind of true Christianity which is the love of others free from violence.'

Shaftari was prompted to take this step by a TV interview which assessed some of the violence of the period, and was motivated by what he calls a spiritual search for redemption. He had been overwhelmed by the heavy weight of the past. `My belief in God gave me the strength to write this letter,' he says. It poured out of him in a matter of minutes.

He adds, `It's important to study what happened on an individual basis before the general one. You can't just put the blame on those in charge. We were all responsible--those holding the guns, those giving the orders, even the civilians applauding it.'

Some have described the apology as a break in the state-sponsored amnesia. Not everyone was enthusiastic about his statements but Michael Young, a columnist for the English-language Beirut Daily Star, applauded Shaftari's repentance. Young suggested that he also provide practical information to help survivors, especially families of the disappeared, to bring closure to the war. People needed to know what happened, not just hear an apology, he wrote.

Shaftari, the first public figure to apologize since the war, hopes his voice will be heard as a `unique path out from the Lebanese catastrophe' and as a contribution to healing wounds in himself and in others.

Steps like Shaftari's will help give content to the Garden of Forgiveness which will be a gift to this war-torn region.

Last month Shaftari was with a group in Egypt, where they were asked to share their experiences in building bridges between different communities.