Thursday, August 25, 2005

11 years later ...

Note to the politically intense: I make alot of sweeping generalizations below. Alot. So don't hang on every word ...


I was 13 when my family first moved back to Lebanon in 1994. We had only gone back a few times before, and even then, it was only for several weeks. Life had changed drastically for us when we first went back, and it wasn't only the move. My childhood had been spent with people who came from around the world - USA, England, Scotland, France, Bolivia, Canada, India, Pakistan, Oman, Saudi Arabia, Algeria, Nigeria, South Africa, Belgium, Russia ... and a fundamental aspect of the early years of education was looking past the differences.

I am not going to say that it was perfect. There was racism. There was hatred. There was antagonism. But this was a minority.

In 1994, we had arrived in a country that had just recently come out of a war, which I did not know much about besides what you hear and read. But this is never the same as living it. I had arrived in a time where the country was still unstable (not that it has actually stabilized now), where my grandmother would talk about the "ayem" (good old days), my mother would worry about whether she had taken the right decision, the electricity would barely be available for 6 hours. We were introduced to the now bland concept of the generator, the water citern, and the continuously disconnecting phone line. I became the electrical expert of the family, dealing with issues that had before been taken for granted. We moved into schools, my brother into AUB, and began to really live in Lebanon.

One of my first memories there is coming back home on a bus (yes, those blue ones) from Mezraa to Antelias. Two soldiers came on, and as they looked for free seats, began asking the passengers "Are you with Aoun or Geagea?" and getting the different answers, with the inevitable angry retort. I was relieved at the time that they did not pass by me. But this was nothing compared to learning how to sense the uneasiness some people can have towards entire sects. I spent a year in a school in Ain Aar (somewhere past Rabieh), and continued the rest in its branch in Ras Beirut. Discussions varied. There was hatred. There was antagonism. But this was not a minority.

What's worse is that it was hard to keep these things from rubbing off ...

Now, 11 years later, not much has really changed. 11 years. 11 years is a long time. Empires have been broken in fewer years. 11 years later, the discussion is still about that sect, and this sect, Aoun and Geagea, Jumblatt, Hariri, Berri, etc. It is still about the zuama who decide our fate. It is still about the people who blindly follow these leaders who had led them into war, led them out, and who have not changed.

It is still painful to watch.

March 14 came and went. How many of us actually believed that things were going to change? It's nice to speak about that day, where the image of the guy holding the cross and the Kur'an was viewed around the world. How many of us really believed that the government would actually advance, that our semi-feudalistic community would actually develop? March 14 has now become a day that people look back on and use to blame to the politicians for the current state.

Look, they say. We united. You destroyed.

Just last week, a friend told me that the shape and form of a government reflects its people, and I disagreed with him. I am not so sure anymore. We are to blame for March 14, because it didn't really exist. When March 14 happened, another friend smiled and said "We beat them." My answer was simple: We didn't beat them (and he meant Hezbollah) if you are still thinking in we and they. He replied (and he wasn't the only one) "They are the ones who started flexing their muscles first."

11 years. I finished school, graduated from AUB, and have just finished my MS. 11 years later, we are still waiting for others to save us, and still look for a scapegoat to blame our problems on. Why did March 14 fail? Was it really our politicians who destroyed it?

Some will say yes. They will point to the elections. I will point to a 6 year old girl I saw on TV who was so adamant on supporting candidate X because, as she said, he is "za3eemna".

Some will point to Berri being reelected. I will point to his supporters who went out shooting their guns. (I was in Zkak el blat at the time) (There were also LF supporters when Geagea was released, or the skirmish between LF and Amal, LF and Franjieh's supporters, etc.)

Some will point to Franjieh, Geagea, Aoun, Jumblatt, Nasrallah, Hariri ... but behind every person there is a following. We voted for a person, and not for his politics. I was in Lebanon during the elections, and the raging colors would have looked like some basketball match to the less informed. Ask someone why he is voting for X, and he would look at you with a surprised look "aren't you?" I was in the US during their elections: Ask someone here why they voted for Bush or for Kerry, and they would give (good or bad, that is besides the point) reasons.

What does it mean when someone you respect for various reasons tells you that he will work for his sect before his country? Or a manager who looks to hire someone from a certain sect?

We destroyed March 14. We attibute different opinions to different sects. We discuss sports in terms of sects. We watch TV, and think of it as a sect. We breathe in and are intoxicated by these "sects" and then go on and blame our politicians, when in fact they are just playing to the audience ... We talk about change, but are afraid of letting the "other sect" have more power. We want a democracy, but we want "our sect" to be on top. We want justice, but won't accept it when it incriminates one of our own.

This (among some other fundamental issues, such as the judiciary) is one of the evils of our society.

It is not ok to just tolerate the fact that your neighbor is Maronite, or Sunni, or Shiite, or Druze.

It is not ok to be friends with someone and then to discuss him/her in terms of his sect.

It is not ok to be afraid of the other sects, because of our own ignorance of people outside our own community.

It is not ok to say that if that sect behaved, Lebanon would become better.

It is not ok to say that you are secularist and then discuss the political arena in terms of sects.

It is not ok, even to the faintest degree, to believe that your sect is on a higher moral ground.

1 Comments:

  • There is this interesting passage in "Beirut Fragments" (great book to read) where a christian and a muslim are having an arguement. The muslim was basically just asking: what is so wrong about having an islamic state. The christian replied by saying that as much as she knew that islam was tolerant, she didn't want to be able to practice her religion JUST because islam would tolerate that. She wanted to know that she could act in certain ways not because she was "tolerated" but because she had the civil right to, which basically relates to that "relation of power" you mentioned in your comment.

    I know that in general, you can't not talk about sects where you are in Lebanon. It is like a bug, which seems harmless at first But i'm of the view that language does affect mentality, and if Lebanon as a nation is going to try to overcome its issues, things like this have to be dealt with.

    By Blogger Lazarus, at 5:37 PM  

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