… the family that does not speak dies.

I have spent the past hour watching this documentary – directed by Anne Aghion – about the progress of ethnic reconciliation in Rwanda. Although it was announced as a reconciliation program (by the minister of justice in the late 1990’s), it was more of a judicial approach (termed the gacaca) that was implemented in early 2000’s. Because of its recent nature, its effects are not completely known, and whether this is a real reconciliation program or not will appear at a later time. However, it was impressive to watch. The genocide, which took place in 1994, was openly discussed between the perpetrators and victims as forgiveness was sought. Anger could be felt before the meetings, as was uttered by a widow when she said “it wasn’t I who imprisoned him. They can free him! It won’t bring back my husband. It won’t bring me back to my senses.” Even in schools the gacaca was discussed, and since the issue of wrongful imprisonment was brought up, a student no more than 15 said “We shouldn’t waste so much time arguing over so-called wrong imprisonment. If people were killed for no reason, then we can understand them being imprisoned for no reason. When they are freed, they can come back and live on the hill.”

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Why am I watching these movies? Why did I watch War Photographer, Rashomon, and this? For aesthetic pleasure? On their own, they are very interesting, and ones like Rashomon are abstractly beautiful, but I have a much more fundamental, and perhaps selfish, reason for them. It goes without saying that Lebanon isn’t the only country that has had a (un)civil war (yes there was a play of inside-outside dialectics, but there is something more to it than just that), but as of yet, I still have to see a real reconciliation movement take place.

I have been asked before why I bring up the war. Obsession? Definitely not. But the (partial) reasons for why the war stretched as long as it did are still floating in the air. I would like to say and believe that Taef made life better, and in its own ways it did, but it also solidified communal identities. There is a reason why countries such as Guatemala and Rwanda, among others, carried out programs of reconciliation... Why haven’t we? Are we so willing to shelve those 15 years? Are our present and our future completely independent of our past? If not, then understanding it is key. Understanding does not immediately insinuate the pointing of fingers at mythical heroes and enemies. It means comprehending that although Lebanon may not be “one”, it most definitely doesn’t consist of cultural enemies.

When I discuss these things with some of my Lebanese friends, I feel like the odd one out. Their language and ideological evolution seems to imply that confessional boundaries are innate. I cannot and will not believe that. Friends that I knew when I was fifteen, who at the time did not buy into the mythical confessional divide, now speak in absurd generalizations. It is this sect that pushes Lebanon forwards. It is that sect that is keeping Lebanon from advancing. I worry when I see my 12 year old neighbor wearing the LF cross (note: I am not attacking the LF – I also worry when I see a 12 year old anything support anything else like that as well).

I have been wondering lately what would happen if one of the warlords and zuama dies. They are aging. Aoun is 70+. A short while back Aoun was taken to the hospital (for a medical check up), and I will never forget the (extreme) anxiety exhibited by his supporters – and they were more than just a few. But this is a social problem, and not only linked to certain political affiliations.

So where is our reconciliation? Should we really just “never bring it up” - to quote a friend of mine? Should we let our hatred and anxieties fester and ferment? The real horrors of war are too easily forgotten – and mythical memories will be carried forth by today’s young generation. Some thing must be done today to break the veneer of communal solidarity and actually treat the remnants of the past. As was also said in the above movie, “Mistrust is not good as we must live together”. One approach, and this is actually one of many, is to start discussing the war in schools. Too sensitive you say? I say that is the only way to truly make it part of the past. The atrocities, regardless of the perpetrators, should not be forgotten. All it takes to reignite a war is a few “bad apples” and many apathetic people. When you hear that weapons are being piled up (and not just by the Palestinians, mind you), you know that people have not gotten the message.

Anyway, national reconciliation, as tailored to Lebanon, is too large an area to comprehensively write about in one post. And it needs a long stretch of serious thought. So maybe after a few months I will write something more serious and more constructive. There are quite a few of cases and ideas that I still need to study and develop thoroughly, and I am open to any suggestions.

I’m looking over my more recent posts, and they seem to be too serious. Maybe next time, I’ll try a lighter subject matter. Maybe I’ll just write about … love …

Then again, maybe not.

Till then …