doIt is heartbreaking when a people perpetually dances between two opposing temperaments, on the one hand lamenting its inexorable demise, on the other reveling in its resilience.
But such are our volatile moods, the Lebanese, since our country was officially declared independent in 1943: with each hard blow, we believe in our imminent ruin; Then, as we heal our wounds, we become intoxicated with the sensation of having escaped death. In these states of mind, our leaders move with us, but in the opposite direction. In its strength, we keenly feel our misfortune; In our tenacity, they deeply feel their weakness.
On a recent afternoon, as the drone of Israeli drones faded into the heavy silence of Beirut and we awaited the day’s barrage of bombs, I thought about the questions no one wants to ask about their country. Will this Lebanon that I love so much despite myself always remain such a dangerously unstable place, constantly flirting with all kinds of abysses? For those who can leave, is there any valid reason to stay, or is this tortured mother of ours finally telling us to flee, once and for all?
Messy Remedies
At first glance, these questions seem rhetorical; It even seems like we already know the answers. Was. For decades, crises and wars were followed by confusing and self-serving remedies, allowing this shattered consociational democracy to continue on its path. And, over time, the idea that we can only change at the most superficial level has become a belief.
If the 1989 Taif agreement [traité interlibanais destiné à mettre fin à la guerre civile commencée en 1975]something bold but quickly abandoned, which was to turn the page on fifteen years of civil war, is an exception, only to better reinforce this conviction. But it doesn’t matter, we comfort each other.
After all, we are a small strip of land open to the Mediterranean; No matter how inextricable our problems may be, it only takes a small effort to get back on our feet, unite and resume our path together. “Hayda Lubnan” (“This is Lebanon”), we repeated over and over again, as if we wanted to abandon all responsibility for our path to the destination.
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