Refugees caught in the middle ducked behind parked cars and at one point about a dozen sprinted toward the Israeli side with bullets flying

Refugees caught in the middle ducked behind parked cars, and at one point about a dozen sprinted toward the Israeli side, with bullets flying above.By nightfall, about 3,000 Lebanese refugees had settled in a temporary tent camp in Galilee and in hotels along the border. Many of them kicked back in a balmy holiday beach resort by the Sea of Galilee.Busloads of young men from Israel’s proxy militia and their families had rumbled into the fenced-off resort compound at Amnon and last night they were relaxing among the palm trees and eucalyptus groves, trying to forget the horribly embarrassing and near-complete collapse of their ranks over the past two days.They arrived looking nervous and tense, bruised no doubt by the grilling that they must have had from the Israeli security services – which are anxious to ensure none of their enemies sneak in through the northern border – and by their recent humiliation on the battlefield.Yet they quickly seemed to adapt. Children ran around near the stony beach by the lake’s warm, placid waters, licking ice creams Elderly women smiled and waved. Although they had travelled less than 50 miles, they must have felt they had landed on a wholly surreal planet, but for the surly, Rayban-wearing Israeli soldiers who guarded the camp gate from unwelcome intruders and tried to stop journalists from talking to the camp’s new occupants.The compromise, corruption, and permanent fear of the occupation zone had been traded – as the notice at the gate of the camp promised – for a land of “touring, relaxation, entertainment and camping”. On the horizon beyond, a couple of boats cruised across the lake’s milky waters Windsurfing lessons were on offer. The refugees could choose between a stroll through the resort’s ambitiously named “Paradise Village” or a pleasant wander through the bougainvilleas.Bizarrely, just down the road, convoys of glossy, air-conditioned, luxury coaches swept in and out, conveying elderly Western Christian pilgrims from site to site. The fact that, only 20 miles up the road, Israeli tanks and artillery were blasting off shells – and 170,000 Israelis were once again fleeing to their bomb shelters – did not appear to have reached their ears.

What the tourists wanted to see was the spot, just near the Lebanese holiday village, where Christ worked his miracle with the loaves and fishes.Catering for Israel’s erstwhile allies will not require assistance from God But it is a task that Israel clearly does not much relish. It has, however, promised to take in members of the militia it armed, paid, and sent to fight its battles in its occupation zone. Yesterday it appeared to be trying to live up to that pledge.”They will get all the services that Israelis enjoy,” said Natan Sharansky, a former Soviet dissident turned Israeli minister, who paid the beach resort a visit. Israel had, he said, a “moral obligation” to help the displaced Lebanese.He became vaguer when asked about granting them citizenship.

They would be issued with one-year tourist visas, but would have the right to work, he said. Leaving the occupation zone has been painful enough for the Israeli army, but it is even worse for their Lebanese allies.. Yuko Obuchi, soon to become MP for Gunma Prefecture’s Number Five Constituency, may turn out to be an able and dedicated politician, but from her record there is no reason to think so. At 26, Ms Obuchi is not an economist or a public servant or an entrepreneur.

Yuko Obuchi, soon to become MP for Gunma Prefecture’s Number Five Constituency, may turn out to be an able and dedicated politician, but from her record there is no reason to think so. At 26, Ms Obuchi is not an economist or a public servant or an entrepreneur.
Her experience of the world is limited to a short stint as a television researcher and a few months working as her father’s secretary. Photographs show a pleasant-looking young woman, with elegant dress sense, neat hair and a nice set of teeth. And yet, next month, Ms Obuchi will almost certainly become a legislator in the second richest country in the world.The explanation is simple: Yuko is the daughter of the late Keizo Obuchi, the Japanese Prime Minister who died 10 days ago, six weeks after suffering a stroke. Yesterday, officials of Mr Obuchi’s Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) announced that they are adopting his daughter as their candidate in the safe seat he has left vacant. And so, in the general election expected to be on 25 June – barring an upset – Yuko Obuchi will become a hereditary member of the Japanese Diet, one of the most exclusive family clubs in the world.Many other national parliaments contain second-generation politicians, but few are quite so dominated by them as Japan. In the 1960s, 38 of the 500 seats in the lower chamber – the equivalent of the House of Commons – belonged to the children of MPs.

Forty years later the figure has tripled to 122, and it could climb higher. In next month’s general election, at least 145 hereditary candidates will stand, among them some of the most powerful politicians in the country.To the Japanese, the idea of hereditary MPs does not seem strange or improper and second-generation candidates do little to justify their ambitions The reasons given by Ms Obuchi’s supporters were feeble. “When it comes to choosing Obuchi’s successor,” said one of his constituency workers, Shichiroji Arikawa, “we have no choice but to accept someone from Obuchi’s family as the person who would best inherit his political wishes.” Yuko herself admitted she had no interest in politics before her father’s illness. “I made up my mind when I saw his face shortly after he died,” she revealed yesterday, rather disconcertingly.Japan’s most liberal newspaper, Asahi, patiently urged last week: “We need to decide who to vote for based on who the candidate is, not what family they are from.” But a more vigorous campaign is afoot to raise the calibre of parliamentary candidates. Echoing the example of a grassroots movement in South Korea, activists have set up a group called Wave 21, dedicated to “driving out the now rampant abuse of authority, greed and corruption committed by politicians from the Diet”.Wave 21’s website ( http:// nvc.halsnet /jhattori/rakusen) invites visitors to give “red cards” to candidates considered unfit for office. They include the new Prime Minister, Yoshiro Mori, the Finance Minister, Kiichi Miyazawa and the veteran opposition leader, Ichiro Ozawa.