Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Personal evolutions on Palestine


Across the border from Palestine

This reflection has been brought about, of course, by the landslide vote at the UN General Assembly to grant Palestine the status of "observer state." But most of all, this has been influenced by the recent attack on Gaza. The terrible images and news coming from the Strip were harrowing—I am haunted by these photos of the howling pain of grieving fathers.

I have considered myself to be a supporter of the Palestinian cause for a long time. But there is a specific privilege that comes with supporting the abstract notion of the rights of a given people from thousands of miles away. The privilege of oversimplification, of even-handed assignment of blame, and most of all, the privilege of being able to shut out information whenever needed or desired.

Coming to Lebanon hasn't completely taken that privilege away from me, but the consequences of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict have become realer to me—and the implications of my opinions, inescapable.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Déja-vu

How do you even start talking about tragedies? How can you write personally about events that take lives, shake some people's worlds intensely and intimately without sounding callous, cold, or even reappropriating them by talking at length about your personal feelings on the matter?

I have been trying to think of how I can possibly discuss the car bomb that happened almost two weeks ago near Sassine Square in the east Beirut. How the immediate aftermath was one of panic, incomprehension and solidarity, before once again falling prey to the ugliness of political divisions.

It's during moments like these that I hate politics the most—the indecency of politicians tripping over themselves to get on television first and try to spin death and destruction to their advantage. When it was revealed that the attack targeted Wissam al-Hassan, dread set in the pit of my stomach. There was no escaping the political now.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Who is innocent?

The story that has been shaking the world these past two weeks is the hateful, racist, and overall shitty movie called "The Innocence of Muslims," and the resulting uproar which has led to the death of at least 30 people, including the American ambassador to Libya, J. Christopher  Stevens.

These events were tragic enough on their own, but on Wednesday, French satirical paper Charlie Hebdo decided to publish caricatures of the Prophet Muhammad. This is not the first time this publication has targeted Islam. Their offices were bombed a year ago in response to an issue they had renamed "Sharia Hebdo," and the infamous Danish cartoon also graced its pages in 2007. To say that Charlie Hebdo is no stranger to controversy is quite an understatement, but this instance smacks of gross opportunism and recklessness.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

It's been a year

A year in Lebanon... and what a year it's been. Rarely before have I felt like I was right where I needed to be, yet felt so constantly challenged in my assumptions, for the best.

I have learned so much in this past year, what better way once again to celebrate an anniversary than by a list?

I am thankful that...

Friday, August 24, 2012

On Race and Racism: "Arabness" and the Lebanese identity

The thing about discussions on race and identity is that nothing is as straightforward as it might seem. While the world seems to have clear-cut notions of what being "black," "Asian" or "French" might mean or look like, in practice, it is a completely different story. As I quickly found out, this is also the case with the notion of "Arabness" in Lebanon.

From a complete outsider's perspective, the question of whether Lebanon is an Arab state seems like an easy one: its population speaks Arabic and the country is situated in a historically Arab region (current Zionist neighbor notwithstanding). What else could it be? So why is there such a debate on Lebanon's Arab identity?

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

On Race and Racism: Immigrants in Lebanon


The topic of race in Lebanon is one I've wanted to bring up for a while. It's not an easy issue, but one I don't think is often brought up when talking about Lebanon, at least in the media abroad. There's a lot to say, so consider this part one of several posts on the issue.

This is not to say that all Lebanese people are racist. This is not to say that Lebanon is uniquely plagued by racism; being a raging progressive who has lived in France and the US, I've seen how ugly and insidious racism can be on an institutional  and societal level. But perceptions of race are shaped by culture and society, influenced by local and external factors. Coming to Lebanon has shown me new and, at times, blunt aspects of race relations that I think are worth discussing.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Peaking Inside Pandora's Box

It's been a while since my last post, and I apologize for having left on such a somber note. The week following the death of Sheikh Ahmad Abd-al-Wahad, which sparked the Tarek al-Jdideh clashes, was a weird one in Beirut, one that definitely showed a new aspect of Lebanon I had yet to see.

Hamra was uncharacteristically quiet. The usual traffic jams on the neighborhood's main street were conspicuously absent. The parking lot outside of my apartment, usually filled to the brim with haphazardly parked cars, was eerily empty. The café I holed myself in daily to work suddenly got a security person at the entrance. Small details that might have gone unnoticed to someone unfamiliar with my neighborhood, but showed that apprehension was shifting uneasily under the surface.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Waiting for the storm

The rumor has been going around for a while; hushed tones of confidentiality, with the gravity of a doctor giving a solemn diagnosis: This summer, it's happening. Lebanon is going to blow up.

At first, I shrugged it off, if a little uneasily. In the darkness of winter, the prospect of conflict months away seemed like a distant, unlikely possibility; so many things could change until then. But as word came of clashes in Tripoli, pitting Lebanese supporters of al-Assad against those supporting the Syrian rebels, it became that much harder to ignore the long-known fact that Lebanon absorbs every conflict, every tension from the region like a sponge.

But still, even as this revelation started setting in with incoming news of several deaths in the north last week, we began bargaining with fate: As long as this just stays in Tripoli, the country can be okay. Just some clashes at the Syrian border, Lebanon can handle that. As long as it doesn't get to Beirut, we'll be fine. Lebanon will be fine.

But these negotiations were over very soon. Last night, by text message, the news came: sporadic shootings in the southern Beirut neighborhood of Tarek el-Jdideh. In cause, the recent death of Sunni cleric Ahmad Abdel-Wahed, killed by Lebanese soldiers in the north.

Trying to fall asleep last night, I hung to this word, "sporadic," like a buoy. This didn't have to be big. One night of burning tires and shooting didn't have to mean the beginning of war. It couldn't. Lebanon has been through too much, it doesn't need this again.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Political bullshit, an excerpt

Today I had the chance to attend an event at AUB featuring Lebanon's very own prime minister, Najib Mikati. I do feel very lucky that I have had so many opportunities to be in the presence of prominent politicians since my arrival in Lebanon. However, said exposure to politicians up close has led to many nasty —dare I even call them this?—surprises. Let's just say the tepidity of political speeches never ceases to simultaneously amaze and depress me.

[Before I go on, I must note that my impressions discussed further down apply to the experience I have had today listening to Mikati himself speak, and that I am well aware that politicians, on every side of the political spectrum, in Lebanon, or in any other nation, are guilty of the same rhetorical emptiness. Fortunately for you all, I don't have enough time to detail my impressions of every shitty politician in France, the US or elsewhere. All that is to say that: please don't interpret this as me being pro-Occidental, pro-March 14 or what have you. These are systemic problems in politics, which I am addressing through one given personal experience. Make of it what you will.]

Monday, April 30, 2012

Gallivanting around Lebanon in pictures: Baalbek

So my parents came to visit me for a week, which was a great opportunity to show them around the country I have been calling home for seven or so months, and a welcome break from relentless studying. It is very easy to spend extended periods of time without leaving Beirut, and I had been itching to get out of the capital for a while. Over the course of their visit, I took them to Baalbek, Mleeta (yes, again) and Jeita, and let them see Sur and Jbeil on their own like the grownups they are.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Moving to Sector 37

Before coming to Lebanon, I had a hard time imagining what a new life in Beirut would be like, but I hoped that it would somehow involve a small apartment overlooking the sea, or something suggesting similar levels of exciting possibilities.

Instead, I was convinced by my mother to apply for university housing to allay her worries about me struggling to find housing upon arrival and having to sleep under a bridge with my 314 suitcases. This sounded like a reasonable suggestion. Perhaps my dorm room would have a balcony with a view on the sea.

I did end up with a balcony, with a splendid view on a construction site, and well within earshot of an Islamic cultural center broadcasting the five daily prayer calls and the hour-long Friday noon service.

Living in a dorm was a harsh reminder of my closeted misanthropy and my strong distaste for sharing sleeping quarters. I was assigned a two-person room, but was lucky to have it for myself for most of the semester. Eventually, I had to share my living space with another person for two months. While my roommate was very sweet, I still felt that I was accommodating an intruder on my territory, a presence coercing me to do things such as shower on a regular basis and not wallow in my pajamas all day eating cereal during finals. Cohabitation in such close quarters also led to some awkward cultural interactions, such as the couple of times I came home mere minutes before my roommate's morning prayer.

With my first semester nearing to an end, the perspective of going five more months without a kitchen and the assured presence of a permanent roommate this time around was too much. I had to move out and live the dream. So by early February, I threw all my belongings into neatly packed my suitcases, and left the AUB campus for a small apartment, three roommates and two cats in the nearby neighborhood of Qoreitem.

While I now bathed in the glow of having a room of my own, living off campus was my long-awaited introduction to some previously unseen aspects of day-to-day Beiruti life.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Salafis and Ba’th Party supporters in Beirut

On Sunday, two protests were scheduled to take place in downtown Beirut. The city is well-acquainted with recurring manifestations of political will but this time it was different: The two protests concerned Syria and represented pro- and anti-Bashar al-Assad camps. What’s more, the anti-Assad protest was run by Lebanese Salafis, marking the first time the Islamic group led a political demonstration in Beirut. Their presence was upsetting the usual pro-resistance March 8 / pro-Western March 14 political divide that governs most issues in Lebanon.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

That one time I went to the Hezbollah Museum

One of the places I most desperately wanted to go to when I arrived in Lebanon was the Museum of the Resistance in Mleeta in the South. The museum was created in 2010 by Hezbollah to commemorate the ten-year anniversary of the retreat of Israel from South Lebanon. A museum on a given political organization created and maintained by said organization is the kind of surrealist self-serving enterprise I just had to see for myself. In mid-January, one of my classes got to visit the museum, an occasion that was exciting for the reasons mentioned above, and also because I thought class trips were only for middle-schoolers.

The museum is situated on top of a hill which used to be the location of a Hezbollah encampment during the fighting against the Israeli Occupation Forces. At approximately 1.5 km in altitude, my attitude of denial when it comes to wearing proper winter clothing proved particularly painful on this January morning. The hill was covered in thick fog that we were told used to be prime weather to attack Israelis without being spotted.

View from Mleeta

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Are you sure you're French?

I have seen many people over the years try (and fail) to pinpoint where I come from. I find this extremely amusing, seeing how I am a pretty generic white person and don't see what could mark me as being from one specific place over another. The crazy guesses I have heard are even funnier knowing that I have the blandest genealogical make-up ever. My parents are both from the same village in Normandy, and the only possibility of exoticism in my genes is my great-grandfather's unknown father, who, let's face it, was most probably from somewhere super foreign like a neighboring village. Or perhaps Brittany.

Among the most memorable guesses as to my origins, I have been told that I look/sound like someone from Detroit, North Carolina, Italy and even Greece. I was also told over Christmas break by someone I had just met that I sound foreign when I speak French, which was rather upsetting, although probably true. But for some odd reason, no guess keeps coming back quite as often as Eastern Europe.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

This is a sarcastic article on articles on Beirut

From NOW Lebanon, "This is a cliché article about why 'Beirut is back'"

My favorite part:
This paragraph begins with one of the four “p” metaphors: pawn, playground, pearl or Paris. Beirut is like one of these. I could also use Switzerland as an analogy, but that is *so* overdone. And take note: I will repeatedly refer to Lebanon’s capital throughout this article as if it is representative of the country as a whole.
And also:
I will also peg a picture to the side of the article that shows a woman wearing a mini-skirt and high heels walking down the same street as a woman wearing a hijab, just in case I didn’t quite prove to you how “Western” Lebanon is.
You are allowed to beat me with a stick (or a plastic ruler, if you're a service driver) if I ever use any of the horrific platitudes exhibited in that article.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Clash of civilizations

Happy New Year everyone! Or, as we would say here, سنة سعيدة (sana sayideh). I hope this year brings you all many great things before we inevitably perish on December 21. At this point during the year, I will be busy working on my master's research thesis, so I for one will be welcoming the Apocalypse with open arms.

I have been severely lagging on the posting recently, although for my defense, I have been over my head lately with final papers. Oh the joys of going back to school... The semester ends in two weeks, so hopefully by February I will be able to discuss more fun things than "I spent six hours at the library today."

In the meantime, I thought I would share with you an ongoing preoccupation, something that has plagued my social interactions in Lebanon since my arrival. 

The bise.