Dr. Elie Salem was the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Lebanon under President Amin Gemayel in the early 1980s. Before that, he was a professor of political science at the American University for several years. After the ministry, he returned to academia as president of the University of Balamand, until he retired when he turned ninety four years ago.
In this new world he returned to his old world; The village, farming, and taking care of the parents’ legacy, and the livelihood they left for nine children, all of whom hold doctorates. In honor of the man who urged them to learn, they erected a huge bust of him in the garden of the house, and the father’s likeness to the children appears complete.
Of course, you can compare the features between the statue and the reality. But how do you know if the father also laughed like them between every word, turning the gatherings into a roar of laughter and a stream of jokes? Then suddenly, silence descends when the man who drew up the famous “May 17 Agreement” starts talking about the fate of Lebanon and his conversations alongside President Gemayel with President Hafez al-Assad, and how he quarreled with Minister Farouk al-Sharaa, “and pushed him to the ground.”
Every week, our colleague Nawal Nasr presents in “Call of the Nation” a biography, or “portrait,” of a well-known Lebanese figure. Last Saturday, this weekly fun was a trip into the world of Eli Salem.
He talked about his new book and his upcoming projects, and appeared in the pictures, standing tall and walking in the garden like its trees.
Not once do I speak to his brother, Dr. Philip, unless I find “news information” about his older brother. When the younger brother says: “Your friend”; It means that he will tell a funny news about the Secretary of State who made Ronald Reagan and Hafez al-Assad laugh.
After the release of “Call of the Nation,” I was talking to my brother, the doctor, when he burst out laughing. So I said to myself, it is time to tell the village and its minister. He said: “Have you seen pictures of your friend standing erect like the pillars of Baalbek, walking in the boots of an officer in the military school?” I answered yes. He said: Do you know that he has become, God willing, ninety-four years old?
In the evening, I called “our friend” and before greeting him and saying hello, and before commenting on the interview, I said to him in all seriousness: “Can I borrow from you the black boots that we saw in the pictures?” He answered with all seriousness: “The man who makes these boots for me is a cobbler in Tripoli.” A month ago I recommended six boots to him, in case he died and cut us off. Since your nose is the same size as mine, your size must be the same as mine. Please honor us on the estate and take the boots you like.”
