09.04.08

Paradoxes, abstractions and indulgences: the myth of Lebanese joie de vivre

Posted in Comment, Lebanon Diaries tagged , , , at 8:39 pm by lilithhope

The notion that Lebanon is a country of brazen paradoxes is a commonplace conclusion arrived at by many foreigners who come here for any significant amount of time. So commonplace, in fact, that such contradictions have become the template for Westerners’ representations of this quagmire country in both the media and academia alike. The stark social disparity, in which up-market, glitzy neighbourhoods are situated a stone’s throw away from dirty, overcrowded refugee camps; the incomprehensible speed with which the nation goes from being on the brink of civil war to lapping up the vastly exaggerated, pop-star blessed and firework-christened festivities of a superficial band-aid of a peace deal; the relentless drive towards luxury and indulgence in the face of institutionalised marginalization and repression… This is Lebanon.

Often, these anti-intuitive, ill-fitting pieces are considered to be the root reason for why Lebanon, and Beirut in particular, wields such a powerful magnetic pull on all who stray into its sphere. Lebanon can be both heaven and hell, and this is a powerful source of attraction for those who, coming from outside, are privileged enough to derive cheap thrills by walking the precarious tightrope between the two universes. This ‘naughty-but-nice’ message resonates ironically in each and every tongue-in-cheek regurgitation of this countries’ well-meaning but largely vacuous mantra: “Welcome to Lebanon”.

The paradoxes of Beirut are all-pervasive, and manifest themselves almost all aspects of life in this city that inhabits the borderline between the sane and the absurd, the shining and the decrepit. It is not rare to perceive a bullet-ridden, blackened-by-smoke carcass of a building lurking in the shadow of a towering shard-glass luxury residence. Nor is it uncommon to witness the merging of the worlds of a fashion victim and a mine victim: a diamond- and gold-clad, collagen-lipped tummy-tucked breast-enhanced platinum blonde stops to buy a pack of Davidoff slims from a legless old man on a street corner. Not surprisingly, it is the former who is offered bank loans to ‘remedy’ her condition, while the limbless latter is extended no such compassion. The focus on extravagance in favour of post-conflict reconciliation or shared humanism has led many to ask why the Lebanese seem to have their priorities so skewed.

Several attempts have been made to reconcile Lebanon’s paradoxes, to understand how such unabashed pleasure flourishes so shamelessly aside such festering pain. The general consensus to emerge from academics, bloggers and journalists alike is that many Lebanese suffer from some form of ‘national amnesia’1, or as ‘Angry Arab’ As’ad Abukhalil would say, ‘Lebanonesia’, that drives them to forget their conflict-plagued past by filling themselves with the petty frivolities of the present. A similar diagnosis was recently echoed in an article published in The Times a couple of weeks ago, in which the author, Alice Fordham, claimed the existence of some “Lebanese tendency” to ignore troubles and focus on fun, which represents “a national psychological defence mechanism” 2. In a more patronising tone, the author continues:

These people have endured decades of internal and external strife and they live in a country where sectarian rifts are getting deeper and, very likely, storing up trouble for the future. If they focused on what had happened and what was likely to happen, they couldn’t cope. So, in Beirut at least, they go to the rooftop nightclubs or the road of bars in the beautiful, battered area of Gemmayze and make the most of the clubs that stay open no matter what the security situation… So if it is denial that fosters this charm, then it is hard to condemn it… Everyone here has deeply held affiliations, inherited and totally incompatible with the views of their friends. Who can blame them for skirting around the issue and thinking instead about society, style and about how great they’re going to look after their surgeon is finished with them? ”.

Yet while the middle and upper class Lebanese are good-naturedly chided and admired for their ability to put painful aspects of their national past behind them by focusing their energies on trivial pleasures, some of the darker characteristics of Lebanese society are glossed over.

In the effort to paint the Lebanese as victims of social and political conditions that precede them and choosing to frame their pleasure-seeking as a coping mechanism, their own role in aggravating the bottomless rifts that haunt this country and perpetuating other socio-political injustices is ignored. For while the Lebanese pride themselves with their hospitality, spouting the phrase “ahlan wa sahlan” at the drop of a hat, they are simultaneously resolvedly reluctant to critically assess their own agency as causing the persistence of divisive sectarian identities and the lacunae in dealing with the ghosts of the civil war, both factors which continue to push the Lebanese into armed conflict with on-another. Perpetual escapism and denial can only lead to the exasperation of the causes of social and political differences.

Moreover, those Western journalists who romanticise and victimise the Lebanese predicament are also guilty of naïve abstraction. By excusing the middle and upper class’ superficial obsessions with physical beauty and material wealth as means of escaping the bigger issues around them, one condones their choice to not be part of the solution, and hence their role in deepening certain social divisions. Moreover, if one were to examine the fact of Western representation of the Lebanese more closely, many assumptions are taken for granted. Significantly, any vocal celebration of the apparent Lebanese ‘joie de vivre’, charm and hospitality is a selective reading of how outsiders are received here, most importantly because it tends to be race blind.

Racist attitudes towards those of darker complexion are very common in the Arab world. The word ‘abeed’, which means ‘slave’ in Arabic, is commonly and unquestioningly used by many Arabs to refer to individuals with black skin. My half-Sudanese half-Latvian friend stormed out of the 2006 African Nations Cup final in Cairo because a group of Egyptian boys in front of us were referring to the Cote d’Ivoiriens on the pitch using that very word and others of a similar lexical set. In Lebanon, the situation is compounded by the Lebanese tendency to see themselves as also superior to other Arabs, a consequence of their supposed Phoenician roots3 and lighter skin.

In Lebanon, this twin prejudice is clearly apparent in the division of labour, which fixes those of darker or more alien features (Sri Lankan, Ethiopian, Philippino) in the most base jobs, including street cleaners and live-in domestic help (aka personal servants), while other slightly more coffeed Arabs, such as Syrians and Iraqis, form a large portion of the manual labour force. In fact, I would even go as far to argue that regardless of their political leanings and sect, upper-middle class Lebanese Sunni, Shia, Druze, Maronite and Greek Orthodox probably have near-identical takes on social justice issues, whereby they probably do not question the ethical implications of importing individuals from East Africa or East Asia, locking them in houses, controlling their movement by retaining their passports and paying them a (for lack of better word) shit wage.

Such racial prejudice is not restricted to labour, and is equally present in the realm of leisure, that sphere in which the Lebanese are so allegedly adept. While Lebanon’s many pleasures are praised by foreigners right and left, the extent to which one has access to the jilted universe of the privileged largely depends on one’s complexion. While myself, Fordham and other white Europeans and Americans are received with open arms, the same hospitality is often brutally refused to non-white visitors. A Kenyan acquaintance of mine and her compatriot were recently flatly refused entry to one of Jounieh’s plush beach resorts. No, the facility was not full, as others continued to enter unimpeded. The two girls were, simply, perceived of as being too dark to partake in Lebanese luxury. An Indian acquaintance relayed a similar story to me, in which the wife of the Sri Lankan ambassador was once chased out of a swimming pool at a mountain resort by to hotel staff amongst cries of “Maids are not allowed in the swimming pool!”

Those narratives indicate that the extent to which an outsider can access the celebrated Lebanese hospitality depends on skin colour. Ask any non-white foreigner in Lebanon about their experiences with ‘Lebanese hospitality’, and their narratives are worlds away from the charm that Fordham mentions. Her race blindness toward this issue is blatant when she states: “[Beirut’s] reputation for fun and the Lebanese reputation for charm and hospitality do attract visitors who support the many employees of hotels, shops and beaches”. She does not indicate the discrepancies in treatment of those who are ‘attracted’, nor does she question the extent to which employment in the tourist sector may also have a racial dimension. Therefore, while it is glaringly obvious that the revered Lebanese hospitality is tainted with a white Europhilic stain, such prejudice is glossed over by flattering portrayals of the privileged Lebanese as soldiering on in the bars, clubs, mountain villas and beach resorts despite violent clashes or the constant threat thereof. Such portrayals play into the image that many Lebanese wish to give of themselves, one of victimhood, which exempts them from questioning their past and present responsibilities in the continuing shambolic disintegration of this country.

The suffering that has been endured by the Lebanese people in over 15 years of civil war and foreign occupation is undeniable. But the solution to such suffering is not abstraction. Foreigners who revel in the open, accepting, welcoming image of the Lebanese should be aware of that those attitudes are, quite literally, skin-deep. Furthermore, representing the Lebanese as tortured by history and as passive victims in a confessionalist political system that precedes them chooses to ignore the ways in which they are responsible for exacerbating many of this country’s problems along class and race lines. By romanticising the paradoxes and forgetting the agency of many Lebanese in perpetuating social injustices, we only assist in hammering another nail into the coffin of this increasingly decaying nation.

1See Deeb, Lara (2006) An Enchanted Modern: Gender and Public Piety in Shi’i Lebanon. Princeton; Oxford: Princeton University Press, p. 67.

2 See Fordham, Alice. “Bombs and Botox in Beirut”, The Times, 15 August 2008.

3 For a critique of the Lebanese claim to Phoenician heritage, see Salibi, Kamal (1990) A House of Many Mansions. University of California Press

08.28.08

Let them dream of Palestine

Posted in Comment tagged , at 3:05 pm by lilithhope

Mahmood Abbas, President of the Palestinian Authority, arrived in Beirut today and is currently meeting with Lebanese president Michel Sleiman.

According to reports, Abbas stated: “We are against the naturalization of Palestinians in Lebanon”.

Now, what a completely hollow thing to say! As a Palestinian teenager from Shatila told my S.O. not so long ago: it is in the interests of the Palestinian administration if the Palestinian refugees in Lebanon continue to live in squalour. Because as long as the refugees in Lebanon are maintained in a situation of desparation by being denied free movement, access to quality education and employment opportunities, voting rights etc, the Palestinian nationalist cause remains alive. If, on the other hand, Palestinians were naturalised into Lebanese citizens (which would have its own undesired demographic and hence political impacts in Lebanon), if Palestinians were allowed to live decent, fulfilling lives and no longer treated as second-class citizens, then their desire to continue the battle for nationhood would be weakened.

I do find this approach so disheatening. Essentially, it maintains that it’s ok for a whole group of people to suffer social ostracisation, to live in conditions of poverty, to be harassed by the police and army, to be disallowed from working in over 30 proffessions (for more details on how the Palestinians suffer systematic discrimination in Lebanon, see this Amnesty report). The president of a people is saying that it is alright if they are suffering now, because it is a means of preserving an abstract nationalism.

In order to keep ‘the cause’ alive, people’s livelihoods are being dashed.

How much of today should be sacrificed for the dreams of tomorrow?

I wish Mahmood Abbas would ask that question to all the refugees in all the 13 camps in Lebanon. I don’t think he’d be too happy with their answer. Incidentally, I wonder if he will  visit the camps. I’d guess not, because i’m sure some Future party-sponsered Sunni militant would be lying in wait in order to knock him off…

Regardless, it is always such a shame to see people being played as pawns in the big political chessgame.

08.26.08

Alternative in all but substance

Posted in Lebanon Diaries tagged , , , , , at 2:54 pm by lilithhope

Last weekend was my penultimate one in Lebanon before embarking upon a “Beirut to Beijing” overland trip, which is due to begin in mid-September (I intend to document my travels on this blog, so stay tuned!). Appropriately, the occasion was rendered more memorable by a psychedelic trance music festival, Forestronika, that took place up in the Chouf mountains, at the (apparently) eco-friendly camp-site, Eco Village.
I had been looking forward to this weekend for a while: in my mind, it represented a last moment of indulgence release before assuming the responsibilities of packing my backpack and setting out on yet another nomadic ramble across this vast planet… (For some reasons, contrary to other times in my life when I have gone traveling, this impending journey does not seem like a release. Obviously, the prospect of traveling into Iran, and through Central Asia in order to cross into Xinjiang, China, is a highly thrilling one, but it does not fill me with as much giddy anticipation as one would expect… )

So this weekend: I imagined that Forestronika would be the Lebanese equivalent of Glastonbury, complete with organic food, wooden cutlery, rhythmic beats, live impromptu jams floating up from here and there… How far off the mark I was!

First of all, there was the tedious homogeneity of the music. Ok, yes, it was an ELECTRONIC music festival, specializing in psytrance, so obviously I didn’t expect anyone to be getting on stage with an acoustic guitar and a harmonica. But on Friday, apart from a great drum and bass set, the mediocre and boringly repetitive psytrance beats continued unabated throughout the night, all the way into the morning, and by Saturday noon the diabolic pulsating was showing no sign of relenting! So, at 12 when I stirred from a 4 hour sleep, keen to munch some carrot cake and sip a coffee against some soft chill out tunes in order to recover from the previous night’s excesses, the hard core trash trance was hammering my already hammered brain into nauseous pustules of insanity… How NOT to cure a hangover?

Apart from the music, I was disappointed to see that no activities had been organized. With a venue like Eco Village, which boasts fruit orchards, rock-climbing, sandpaper toilets and other nature-friendly characteristics, one would think that, similar to other music festivals, the virtues of engaging in eco-friendly activities would have been promoted. I imagined workshops on how to grow your own organic fruit and veg, or information encouraging people to recycle at home (recycling is a quasi-alien activity in Lebanon: when my Significant Other recycles our glass bottles in the bins down the road, the nearby army personnel look on with a mixture of amusement and disbelief). However, instead of those activities, there were generators spouting thick, black smoke into the air, limited recycling, NO ashtrays, and more generally no attempts to fuse the alternative music scene with an alternative lifestyle scene (see here for a Daily Star journalist’s regurgitation of my ideas about this; yes, ‘tis I that vacuous “one partygoer”).

This joined in with a broader failure that left me dissatisfied with the festival: the sense that a potential platform for forging a deeper sort of alternative identity had been sorely missed. More precisely, I experienced none of what I would call the ‘festival ethic’, one of creating a fun, community- and learning-centred environment. An environment in which music is a driving force for not only partying, but also the nexus for being part of a larger group that attempts to disassociate itself from social norms in more ways than just loud music and long hair; namely, by imparting potentially ‘alternative’ values: ecological awareness, non-violent protest, direct action, communitarianism.

Obviously, the meaning of ‘alternative’ will change from one place to the next. The best example of this is the fact that Glastonbury, once a small-scale hippie bumpkin fest, is now the most popular weekend in the U.K., attracting well over 100,000 people. But although Glasto has made the shift from ‘alternative’ to ‘mainstream’ (like so many before it: Che Guevara, the kuffiyeh, punk…), the sort of socially responsible ethics that it is expounding would be quasi-revolutionary here in Lebanon, where only rarely are people capable of thinking outside the confessionalist box.

I suppose the crux of the issue has to do with the reluctance of the Lebanese who are active in the alternative scene to consider themselves as the basis for some sort of civil society that could potentially shift identity away from those of creed or sect that ruthlessly dominate here. Instead of seeing an attachment to underground music as a gateway to forging a different social identity, it seen as a complete escape from the factors that define Lebanese identity. Therefore, the potential platforms for manifesting social discontent or asserting a different sort of identity from the mainstream Lebanese quagmires are engaged in with a certain shallowness, a frivolity, a reluctance to push the envelope too far. That attitude could be summed up in a phrase that was included in Eco Village’s “Rules and Regulations” notice that was posted on the inside of our (kindly shared) mud cabin:

“Rule 1: No Politics”.

Literally, before any mention of sensible waste disposal, noise, fire hazards or other potentially dangerous practices, the activity that was prioritized as being of most threat was political discussion!

Admittedly, perhaps my own analysis is symptomatic of that relentless desire to link everything that occurs in Lebanon with politics (I have previously even linked the weather to politics… perhaps it is pathological. Those who party party hard hard hard in order to distance themselves from such an inextricably political existence could, legitimately, hound me for once again falling into the everything-under-the-lebanese-sun=politics trap. In my defense, I just wish to raise the question of why the Lebanese underground has not assumed counter-culture characteristics, as so many other movements have done in the past: the hippies with their civil rights and anti-war agenda, les 68-ards with their workers solidarity, the punks with their anti-establishment rebelliousness. Even the rave movement of the late 80’s early 90’s had an element of rejecting private property and reclaiming public space to it…

But perhaps it is me who has to modify my analytical lenses. Perhaps, in a country where every single aspect of life is mired in politics, the act of pure rejection of politics is in itself the height of revolt. In Lebanon, being a-political could be construed as the most brazen act of dissidence…

And maybe it is. But the feeling that I am left with after last weekend is one in which Lebanon’s nascent alternative community is spending too much time on the dance floor and not enough time creating a counter-culture identity that could be the beginning of solving some of this country’s problems. With a little less intoxication and a little more well-placed dedication, the potential for subversion is indeed fertile.

 

 

 

08.01.08

Hizbullah’s existential dilemna, part II

Posted in Comment tagged , , , , at 12:03 pm by lilithhope

This is a piece that i wrote after the July’s prisoner swap which questions the existence of Hizbullah in a post-resistance frame.

I submitted to a few online mags, but no-one wanted it because it is apparently ‘too speculative’… Behold, the bitterness of rejection!

Admittedly, i accept that critique, and acknowledge my weak (read: non-existant) journalistic foundations and tendencies to be more imaginative/conceptual than hard-core-factual. I nevertheless think that some points raised are important, but check it out and see for yourselves:

Hizbullah’s existential dilemna

Two weeks ago saw return of the last Lebanese prisoners held in Israeli jails to Lebanon, an event that was greeted with jubilant celebrations all over the country, from the Israeli-Lebanese border to Beirut’s southern suburbs, Al Dahiyyeh, which were transformed into a veritable fairground of festivities: swelling tides of proud yellow and green dotted with crests of white and red; the sharp crackle of and pop of fireworks as they briefly cast the shadows of flags on the faces of those assembled; the occasional rattle of celebratory gunfire, despite it being previously discouraged; and the nearly-tangible sense of euphoria infiltrating the narrow spaces between the tens of thousands that had gathered for the occasion. Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, the chairman of Hizbullah, made his first public appearance since July 2006 and addressed the heaving, boisterous crowd before him by saying that “The true, original and permanent identity of our region’s peoples and our nation is that of resistance”.

 

 

The popular elation was reflected in the highest echelons of the government and hailed as a national victory for Lebanon by politicians from across the spectrum, including Nasrallah’s arch-rivals Parliamentary majority leader Saad Hariri and Progressive Socialist Party leader Walid Jumblatt, whose latest reconciliatory comments are far removed from the tone he struck earlier this year by accusing Hizbullah of being a “totalitarian party”. No measure was spared by the government in showing their support for the prisoners’ release: a national holiday was declared and the returning prisoners receiving a Presidential welcoming at Beirut International airport, during which President Michel Suleiman proclaimed “Your return is a new victory and the future in your presence will be a path through which we will achieve sovereignty on out land and freedom for our people”.

 

 

Wednesday’s prisoner swap saw the return of the remains of 199 Palestinian and Lebanese fighters who had died in operations on Israeli soil and the last 5 Lebanese prisoners being held in Israeli jails, the most famous of whom is Samir Qantar, renown for both the intense emotional reaction to his crime, which involved the violent killing of a four-year-old girl, and the fact that he was the longest Arab prisoner to be held in Israel. In exchange, Hizbullah returned the bodies of two Israeli soldiers, Eldad Regev and Ehud Goldwasser, captured by Hizbullah in July 2006 in a raid which sparked a war that claimed the lives of over 1,200 Lebanese, mostly civilians, and 160 Israelis, mostly soldiers. The swap deal proved controversial in Israel, and the solemn atmosphere that prevailed there upon the return of the bodies of the captured soldiers and the remains others killed during the 2006 war stood in sharp contrast to the festivities in the Lebanese capital, which were widely criticised in the international media as the glorification of murderers.

 

 

But for many in Lebanon and the wider Arab world, Hizbullah had every reason to celebrate the return of the prisoners, claiming that it was both a symbolic and strategic victory. Symbolically, it was the final stage in the chain of events that sparked the 2006 July War; while strategically it proved the effectiveness of a well-organized armed resistance and precise guerrilla warfare tactics in achieving political ends, especially when compared to the sheer inefficiency of the docile diplomacy currently being pursued by other Arab countries, such as Egypt and Jordan, and Mahmood Abbas’ Palestinian Authority.

 

 

However, it would seem that the fanfare is now over and everyone has woken up the morning after with an emotional hangover from the previous night’s sentimental indulgences. Against the background of several factors, including the continuing process to implement the Doha agreement by achieving national unity, of which one of the components is a framework for Hizbullah’s disarmament and incorporation of its military capacities into the national army and current speculation as to a possible Israeli withdrawal from the Shebaa Farms, some serious issues related to Hizbullah’s very raison d’être as an Islamic resistance movement invite scrutiny.

 

 

On the one hand, the recent prisoner swap was the last of a string of successes for the group in its self-proclaimed task of rejecting occupation, tyranny and foreign interests in Lebanon. Prior successes were the liberation of most of Lebanon’s territory from a twenty year-long Israeli occupation, conducting a successful prisoner exchange in 2004 and shattering the myth of an undefeatable Israeli Defence Forces (IDF). 

 

But on the other hand, now that all Lebanese prisoners held in Israeli jails have been released and there is talk of a diplomatic solution to the Shebaa farms, criteria that priorly justified armed resistance, will Hizbullah now be struggling to legitimise the possession of its arms, and more generally its very existence as a resistance movement? For Samir Qantar, the answer to that as yet unspoken question was definitely ‘no’. During a speech made at a welcome rally held upon his return to his hometown of Aabey, east of Beirut, Qantar stated that “Whoever believes that liberating Shebaa Farms would put an end to the resistance is deluded. This enemy would not leave us alone”. To support his point, he drew on several examples: “Look at the way they treated the people who signed treaties with them [...] Look at what they did to former Palestinian President Yasser Arafat,” he added, indirectly accusing Israel of aggravating the causes that led to the Palestinian leader’s death in November 2004. Qantar was adamant about the continuing relevance of the resistance: “The resistance would persist after (liberating) Shebaa Farms and after and after that”.

 

Admittedly, there is significant weight to the argument that even if Israel ceases to occupy Lebanese territory, its mere existence as a state with an ideological grounding in and a historic record of territorial expansion render it a de facto threat to Lebanese national sovereignty. Yet is that threat, that potential of  future violence, enough to legitimise a continued, armed, Hizbullah resistance, as opposed to a non-religiously motivated, non-sectarian national army who would play the role of protectors? It seems that to say so, to agree that Hizbullah’s armed militia wing is still relevant in a Lebanon post-Israeli occupation, would to be to shift the discourse of protection to one of prevention, and, consequently, possibly pre-emption. And that last stage, pre-emptiveness, would be highly volatile simply because the lines of ‘aggressor’ and ‘aggressed’ become so blurred that the claims of oppression, repression, persecution or intimidation that inform and justify resistance are turned on their heads.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite the rhetoric of national unity used by ever-shifting politicians and the positive publicity generated by this latest victory, the question of whether or not Hizbullah’s prioritization of resistance is compatible with the economic, social and political sustainability and flourishing of the Lebanese nation remains a pressing one. For example, outside the frame of resistance, what sort of direction does Hizbullah offer for Lebanon as a whole? Does Hizbullah’s existence as an Islamic resistance movement offer viable vision and direction for the diverse Lebanese polity? Or does perpetuating domestic resistance as part of a broader Arab, Islamic or anti-imperialist agenda marginalize other pressing social, economic and political concerns of the Lebanese?

 

 

Nasrallah has always suppoted the Palestinian resistance and has recently voiced his solidarity with the current resistance movement against the occupying American forces in Iraq. The extent to which such pan-Arab anti-imperialist sentiment is peddled by Hizbullah to its supporters was manifested in banners that were hung on the road to Aabey, which read: “From Palestine to Iraq to Lebanon, the resistance is victorious”. Reciprocally, other resistance movements perceive of Hizbullah’s most recent success as setting a precedent for the type of strategy that are effective means of attaining certain goals. For example, Hamas released a statement in response to the prisoners’ releases saying that it strengthened its own campaign for the release of hundreds of Palestinians being held in Israeli jails in return for captured Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit. And when Hizbullah Cabinet Minister Mohammed Fneish states: “We all agree that the enemy understands only the language of force”, there is no illusion as to the wide-ranging implications of his statement for resistance movements in the region.

 

 

But the history of Lebanon as a beacon for anti-imperialist struggles is not a bright one, and one only has to cast one’s mind back to the humiliating evacuation of Yasser Arafat and his Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) fighters from Beirut in August 1982 to remember that using Lebanese soil as a platform for fighting regional battles has been met with much internal resistance. Obviously, Hizbullah is Lebanese, and therefore musters much more national legitimacy than the PLO, but Hizbullah’s appeal to solidarity with Arab or Islamic resistance causes are nevertheless met with heightened weariness in many Lebanese circles. Understandably so, given the massive material and psychological damage, not to mention the tragic civilian death tolls, of both the Civil War years and the 2006 war.

 

 

Many Lebanese are, quite simply, eager to live peaceful lives in which they can access education and health services, provide for their families and access stimulating employment opportunities. In today’s Lebanon, such basic demands are immensely problematic, with unemployment standing at some 20% and social strife being magnified by rising oil and food prices. Encountered with such a sad state of domestic affairs, the question that arises is to what extent resistance should be made a priority of the state. To secure one’s borders and prevent external aggression is one matter, but to jeopardize livelihoods in the name of an ideological commitment to supra-national causes is a very different matter.

 

 

Consequently, one is compelled to ask whether or not Hizbullah’s focus on resistance is perpetuated at the expense of solving other very real national social, political and economic issues. For example, while  Hizbullah does serve the vital role of representing the Lebanese Shi’a, during the recent endeavours to form a Cabinet Hizbullah was offered three seats but only accepted one, the Labour Ministry, preferring to allocate the other two seats to its allies in the opposition. Consequently, Hizbullah’s clout in the current government is considerably reduced, which could be considered as the party not fulfilling its political responsibility to adequately represent its constituency. The reason for Hizbullah’s choice to minimize its part in the government could be interpreted as a desire to be as separate as possible from governmental functioning and leave the notoriously dirty work of Lebanese politics to its opposition allies. Maintaining such a separation reinforces the perception that Hizbullah is a group that is not tarnished by the shady goings on of the political elite, and thereby preserves its ideological integrity. But there again, should a pragmatic political agenda, including representation and participation, be subsumed to conceptual purity?

 

Another example of the Hizbullah’s prioritization of resistance over domestic issues is to note that the catalysts for last May’s violent clashes in Beirut, in which government and opposition forces took to the streets in 3 days of street battles that left over 60 dead, were a strike and demonstration organised by a national trade union in order to pressure the government into raising the minimum wage. But the demonstration never took place, an instead the instability initiated by the strike was used as a springboard to launch a greater civil disobedience campaign which quickly snowballed into clashes between government and opposition supporters. Famously, the signing of the Doha agreement put an end to those clashes, even though unrest and street violence currently continue in Tripoli. Yet in the midst of May’s violence, politicking, factional muscle-shows and the subsequent high-profile international conference, the issue of the minimum wage was silenced, and remains unsolved to this day.

 

 

There is no doubt that Hizbullah’s social record of compensating for the state’s dire lack of providing for its population, especially Lebanon’s most disenfranchised citizens, the Shi’a, is commendable. Their social welfare programmes boast successful education facilities, health services, orphanages and support for the homeless. Verily, such programmes do provide a blueprint for welfare services that should be provided by the state to all sections of society, regardless of religion or class. But, so far, Hizbullah has not indicated that it intends to provide any non-Shi’a Lebanese with anything more than a psychological sense of national pride. True to the sectarian system that precedes it, has not extended the hand of welfare beyond the constituency from which it obtains the most support. Logistically, one could assume that if the political will were present, Hizbullah could extend its social services to other marginalised groups in Lebanon, even possibly migrant workers or refugees. But Hizbullah falls into the same trap as every other Lebanese political party of spouting nationalist rhetoric but lacking in pragmatic non-sectarian action.

 

 

In the wake of the recent events, there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that Hizbullah remains a very powerful force in Lebanon and the region as a whole. But, when one considers the long-term direction of the movement and its viability as a political force in Lebanon outside a framework of resistance, many conceptual and pragmatic lacunae appear. The hope would be that some sort of agreement could be reached whereby the positive aspects of Hizbullah, including its integrity, social welfare programmes and effective military might, would be integrated into the state apparatus, and thereby somehow diffuse the corruption and inefficiency of the present system.

 

But we cannot forget that the spectre of confessionalism hangs over this country like a plague, infecting any hope for equal opportunity and social justice and fuelling a narrow-minded, interest-driven politics in which internal enemies are as much, if not more, reviled than foreign threats. It is within this context that Hizbullah will seek to preserve its own interests as an Islamic resistance movement, perhaps to the detriment of the imagined Lebanese nation. 

 

 

 

 

07.23.08

Miniskirts, collagen and institutionalised disempowerment

Posted in Comment, Lebanon Diaries tagged , , , , at 9:32 am by lilithhope

The image of the stereotypical Lebanese woman is of one clad in a miniskirt and heels, with pouting collagen lips and long, flowing, immaculately coiffed locks, perhaps behind the whell of a shiny BMW of Hummer, or tugging a miniature designer dog on a leash, or socializing with a long thin cigarette in big big diamond-studded sunglasses while some South East Asian ‘helper’ takes care of the kids.

She is the epitomy of a ‘liberal’ woman, freed from the confines of the conservative patriarchy that dominates in the region, as manifested by restrictions on dress, such as the mandatory hijab, or restrictions on social behaviour.

But, as mentioned in the IRIN report below, Lebanese women are systematically disenfranchised:

“Thousands of children in Lebanon are denied full access to education, healthcare and residency because they do not have Lebanese citizenship.

Lebanese women cannot pass on their nationality to their children and in the event of separation, it is the father who gains automatic custody, according to Lebanese nationality law.

Women were only present in parliamentary life twice between 1952 and 1962 and then not again until three female members of parliament (MPs) won seats in the 1992 elections.

“Women’s groups are demanding a 35 percent quota in representation in the government, which would allow for issues such as the custody and nationality law to take precedence,” said activist Roula Masri [...]

A more comprehensive reform to the nationality law has become mired in the political issue of the presence of tens of thousands of Syrian workers and 400,000 Palestinian refugees in Lebanon.Now, it is this last sentence that really gets my goat:

Some politicians have argued that to allow Lebanese women to nationalise the children they have with non-Lebanese, such as Syrians and Palestinians, would be to shake up the delicate sectarian demographic on which the country’s political system is founded.”

 

All these politicians out there who fear for Lebanon’s confessionalist system, that ‘delicate sectarian demograohic’… WHAT A JOKE!!

Lebanon is founded on a demographic of the 1920’s, when the Christains were a majority, and therefore that legitimised giving them all the political power. Post-civil war, the Taif accord did grant Muslims some comparative rights in the government, but those relative gains remain subservient to a system that is very out-of-date, simply because the Christians are no longer a majority in Lebanon.

Everyone knows that. Which is why politicians refuse to have a census: any proof that, as all social indicators (birth rates, death rates, migration) indicate, the Muslim community is infact larger than the Christian community would reveal that, in the name of history, Lebanon’s political institutions are weighted to the minority.

What politicians are calling ‘delicate demographic’, I’m calling ‘denial’. Denial that, for the sake of this country’s future, the political system need profound reform, and the festering confessionalist system needs to be done away with once and for all.

But, obviously, the stakes are sky high, and no one should hold their breath that any such acknowledgment is forthcoming in the remotely near future. But as a result of this denial, this belief in a romantic myth and this unrelenting grasping to an expired colonial mindset, it is the women that suffer. Women are being denied their human rights in the name of a corrupt political falacy.

And are we surprised?

07.18.08

Still a ticking timebomb

Posted in Lebanon Diaries tagged , at 4:15 pm by lilithhope

After Wednesday’s post=prisoner swap celebrations, things aren’t looking to perky out here in the land of the Cedars.

On one hand, the sh*t is kicking off again in Tripoli:

One person was killed and six people were wounded in renewed clashes overnight in Lebanon’s northern port city of Tripoli.
News reports on Friday said a man died and two others were wounded when a car refused to stop at an army roadblock in
Bab al-Tebbaneh.”

On the other hand, in addition to threatening You Tube videos, telephone calls and text messages, an Israeli intelligence site just reported that Hizbullah are ready to shoot down any Israeli jets flying in Lebanese airspace, which is a violation that Israel often engages in… Sounds to me like someon’es on the offensive!

The only thing I’m curious about is which will happen first: Israel vs. Lebanon, Part 3; or Lebanon vs. Lebanon, Part 167…

 

 

The secret of Hizbullah’s success

Posted in Comment tagged , , , , at 1:57 pm by lilithhope

I’m always writing to the Guardian complaining about the lack of pieces about Lebanon, admittedly not without the slight tings of hope that they will commission me to write something for them… But this piece on Hizbullah may be one-sided and flattering, but it’s refreshing to see attempts in the mainstream western media that portray Hizb as anything other than a bloodthirsty gang of Ayatollah Khomeini wannabes. It’s fresh up on Comment is Free, so jump in and join the fray!

06.23.08

Back to the edge of the precipice

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , at 2:03 pm by lilithhope

After sporadic clashes in the Bekka over the past two weeks that claimed 3 lives, the violence moved to Tripoli yesterday and, despite efforts to resolve the conflict last night, continues today. So far, six people have died and over 40 have been wounded.

As the government is still no closer to forming a cabinet and the violence continues to escalate, the ‘peace’ that was celebrated so dramatically a mere 4 weeks ago is dissolving before everyone’s eyes. Like a transparent band-aid placed over an infected, festering blister, the Doha agreement is revealing itself to be completely ineffective. 

There is no sign of the violence in Tripoli subsiding, but there is no doubt that, with the memory of bloodshed so fresh in so many minds, everyone here in Beirut is hoping that it will not spread.

For minute-by-minute updates on the events as they unfold, check here.

06.16.08

Are you a high-profile government official? Join in the trend and stop over in Beirut to show your support for Lebanon’s functional democracy while you can!

Posted in Lebanon Diaries tagged , , at 3:35 pm by lilithhope

Condoleeza Rice: one of the few lucky people who can take a direct flight from Tel Aviv to Beirut.

After meeting with reps from the Israeli government yesterday, in which she was brave enough to wave a patronizing finger and say ’shame on you’ to her hosts for the unbridled settlement expansion in the suburbs of occupied East Jerusalem that has planned the construction of 1,300 new houses, she is following in the footsteps of other high-profile Western politicians such as David Milliband and Sarkozy and is dropping by Beirut to  “express the United States’ support for Lebanese democracy, for Lebanese sovereignty“.

This trail of famous personalities has left the Lebanese breathlessly wondering who will be the next to visit their superficially and temporarily healed country.

Rumour has it that Madonna might make a special appearance at this year’s Baalbeck Music Festival in July, but that story has sparked concerns amongst the hundreds of thousands in Lebanon’s refugee camps, who fear that the Princess of Pop may perform a child-snatching act in order to add another impoverished, disempowered mouth to her gaggle of third-world adoptees.

Apart from the 12th Imam, other high-profile personalities whose presences are hoped to grace the land of the Cedars in the coming months include Nelson Mandela, Bono and George Galloway, who has apparently received a personal invitation to Lebanon from Manouchehr Mottaki, Iran’s Foreign Minister.

06.13.08

Karim Makdisi on post-Doha Lebanon

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , at 9:26 am by lilithhope

This is a really interesting interview with Karim Makdisi, a professor in the Department of Political Studies and Public Administration at the American University of Beirut, in which he analyzes post-Doha Lebanon. I’ve copied some of the most interesting bits below, but you can find the full interview here.

“Poverty has risen dramatically in Lebanon in recent years, especially in areas outside of Beirut, in northern Lebanon, in southern Lebanon, in the Bekka valley and also in certain Beirut suburbs. Poverty has risen tremendously. State services from electricity, to phones, to water have all suffered also. Today there are many electricity cuts, also many water shortages and the summer season hasn’t yet began where traditionally there has always been regular water shortages and electricity cuts, so in this regard many are expecting a severe summer.

Also Lebanon is experiencing an environmental catastrophe today, both resulting from the Israeli attack in 2006 but also more generally an environmental disaster brought upon Lebanon over the past years. Lebanon’s coastline has been almost entirely privatized or destroyed due to pollution. Lebanon’s mountains are also being privatized. Many forests in Lebanon have been cut up. Air pollution is very, very high, while multiple important international environmental agreements have not been implemented in Lebanon.

All these major issues haven’t been addressed by either side. Even the opposition, including Hizballah, except on the margins doesn’t really mention or talk about the economic crisis. Actually this latest conflict covered up a very important issue in Lebanon.

Trade unions in Lebanon had called for strikes across the country in response to the unemployment crisis, the economic crisis, the farce of a minimum wage which still is only a couple hundred dollars a month — nothing in Lebanon. All these important issues were to be raised through a general strike. However, these issues were superseded by a larger political fight that happened [...]

Each time Lebanon faces a political crisis, each time that Lebanese politicians are in a major disagreement they have had to travel outside of the country. This occurred with the Taif Agreement in Saudi Arabia at the end of the civil war in 1990. This phenomenon occurred again recently with the leaders traveling to France to negotiate, also traveling to many other countries in recent years for political discussions. Never holding serious talks or negotiations in Lebanon.

Now Lebanon’s politicians have traveled to Doha, Qatar to agree on something which is allegedly a purely Lebanese internal affair. However, this external negotiation process certainly illustrates something fundamentally wrong with the political situation here in Lebanon. No mechanism is built into the Lebanese political system to resolve disputes, to resolve disagreements within the political class, internally within Lebanon. Lebanon’s constitution doesn’t provide for it, the political process doesn’t provide for it [...]

Hizballah has provided many social services, they are very, very good in this respect, however they are mainly directed to communities loyal to the party. In other words, their social services to a large extent reinforce sectarian divisions in the country, Hizballah has catered to communities that support them because the state has often been absent within these communities not just today but for decades.

A real economic alternative would cater not only to one community but to the entire country across sectarian divisions: building national civil society organizations that can provide to everybody regardless of their sect or location in Lebanon, building a national civil society that is able to influence public policy, remain independent and be critical towards the government.”

 

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