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?
Perhaps because the debate begins with what being Lebanese really means. The nation's creation was engineered by the French* to benefit one portion of the population (Christians and Druze), for whom getting their own nation was deemed a necessity as religious minorities trying to protect their interests in the region. However, Greater Lebanon, as it became known, also came to include territories that where not dominated by Christians and Druzes, and many Muslims found themselves drawn into an state entity against their will. The divide is still reflected today—politically, geographically, but also in terms of how people choose to identify themselves.
A significant divide grew in Lebanon between those, predominantly Christian, who maintained that they were, racially and/or culturally, descendants of the Phoenicians, and, on the other hand, Muslims who were not consulted when they were included in this new state, and who maintained a stronger affinity with the concept of Pan-Arabism and the greater religious umma, especially in the post-colonial period.
There aren't any statistics on how many Lebanese subscribe to this Phoenician identity theory today, but historians like Kamal Salibi have cast doubts on the credibility of Phoenicianism as a cultural or racial distinguishing factor in modern-day Lebanon. Are the Lebanese justified in identifying as ethnic descendants of the Phoenicians, with a heritage different from that of the rest of the Arab region? However one chooses to identify themselves is none of my business. But when such distinctions are made to highlight the intrinsic cultural superiority of one group over another, these claims become a tool for racial oppression, even among members sharing the same nationality.
My friend F., who is half-French, half-Algerian, has told me of repeated occasions when she encountered casual anti-Arab racism coming from Lebanese individuals—whether they assumed that she must be from the suburbs of Paris, despite her telling them she lives in the French capital itself, or being cautioned not to mention her origins in the very Christian neighborhood of Jeitawi. Syrians and Palestinians also encounter daily discrimination or contempt. Another friend of mine noted that certain people reacted with hostility when she revealed her Palestinian heritage—and this, despite the fact that she certainly doesn't fit any Intifada-waging refugee stereotypes.
This Arab-on-Arab and Lebanese-on-Lebanese hating only makes sense if one sees others as intrinsically different. This could stem from the whole Phoenicianism thing, or could very well mean that the concept of a Pan-Arab unity/brotherhood is more relevant to post-colonial history books and right-wing conspiracy theories than to everyday life. What perhaps comes closest to the truth in Lebanon is that racial, ethnic, religious and cultural identities are so messily intertwined that trying to separate one cause of tension and discrimination from the other is virtually an impossible mission.
To add to the confusion, I have heard on several occasions Lebanese people referring to themselves/other Lebanese as white—most interestingly in the case of an unfortunate anti-racism ad using blackface in March. I'm not quite sure if the term "white" is used in Lebanon to refer to a skin tone rather than an racial identity, but it does imply an interesting perception of self that runs contrary to what one might expect coming from the West. And this is of course without taking into account the existence of individuals who do not fit into the mold of what Lebanese are expected to look like, as I realized when I saw this very interesting exhibit.
All nations go through identity crises (see Sarkozy's deeply misguided and racist attempt at creating a ministry of national identity a couple of years ago). But the issue in Lebanon is not so much finding unity between native and immigrant populations, but between people who have been coexisting for longer than the country has been in existence. And when even the cedar tree becomes a loaded symbol for some, it is sometimes hard to see what identity markers the Lebanese can rally under, except for shared national boundaries.
[I fully realize the risk of overstepping boundaries by trying to "whitesplain" the complicated issue of what being "Lebanese" means. If any readers would like to share thoughts/criticisms on the topic—while remaining civil of course— they are most welcome]
*My sincere apologies for having stuck our noses into this.
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?
Perhaps because the debate begins with what being Lebanese really means. The nation's creation was engineered by the French* to benefit one portion of the population (Christians and Druze), for whom getting their own nation was deemed a necessity as religious minorities trying to protect their interests in the region. However, Greater Lebanon, as it became known, also came to include territories that where not dominated by Christians and Druzes, and many Muslims found themselves drawn into an state entity against their will. The divide is still reflected today—politically, geographically, but also in terms of how people choose to identify themselves.
A significant divide grew in Lebanon between those, predominantly Christian, who maintained that they were, racially and/or culturally, descendants of the Phoenicians, and, on the other hand, Muslims who were not consulted when they were included in this new state, and who maintained a stronger affinity with the concept of Pan-Arabism and the greater religious umma, especially in the post-colonial period.
There aren't any statistics on how many Lebanese subscribe to this Phoenician identity theory today, but historians like Kamal Salibi have cast doubts on the credibility of Phoenicianism as a cultural or racial distinguishing factor in modern-day Lebanon. Are the Lebanese justified in identifying as ethnic descendants of the Phoenicians, with a heritage different from that of the rest of the Arab region? However one chooses to identify themselves is none of my business. But when such distinctions are made to highlight the intrinsic cultural superiority of one group over another, these claims become a tool for racial oppression, even among members sharing the same nationality.
My friend F., who is half-French, half-Algerian, has told me of repeated occasions when she encountered casual anti-Arab racism coming from Lebanese individuals—whether they assumed that she must be from the suburbs of Paris, despite her telling them she lives in the French capital itself, or being cautioned not to mention her origins in the very Christian neighborhood of Jeitawi. Syrians and Palestinians also encounter daily discrimination or contempt. Another friend of mine noted that certain people reacted with hostility when she revealed her Palestinian heritage—and this, despite the fact that she certainly doesn't fit any Intifada-waging refugee stereotypes.
This Arab-on-Arab and Lebanese-on-Lebanese hating only makes sense if one sees others as intrinsically different. This could stem from the whole Phoenicianism thing, or could very well mean that the concept of a Pan-Arab unity/brotherhood is more relevant to post-colonial history books and right-wing conspiracy theories than to everyday life. What perhaps comes closest to the truth in Lebanon is that racial, ethnic, religious and cultural identities are so messily intertwined that trying to separate one cause of tension and discrimination from the other is virtually an impossible mission.
To add to the confusion, I have heard on several occasions Lebanese people referring to themselves/other Lebanese as white—most interestingly in the case of an unfortunate anti-racism ad using blackface in March. I'm not quite sure if the term "white" is used in Lebanon to refer to a skin tone rather than an racial identity, but it does imply an interesting perception of self that runs contrary to what one might expect coming from the West. And this is of course without taking into account the existence of individuals who do not fit into the mold of what Lebanese are expected to look like, as I realized when I saw this very interesting exhibit.
All nations go through identity crises (see Sarkozy's deeply misguided and racist attempt at creating a ministry of national identity a couple of years ago). But the issue in Lebanon is not so much finding unity between native and immigrant populations, but between people who have been coexisting for longer than the country has been in existence. And when even the cedar tree becomes a loaded symbol for some, it is sometimes hard to see what identity markers the Lebanese can rally under, except for shared national boundaries.
[I fully realize the risk of overstepping boundaries by trying to "whitesplain" the complicated issue of what being "Lebanese" means. If any readers would like to share thoughts/criticisms on the topic—while remaining civil of course— they are most welcome]
*My sincere apologies for having stuck our noses into this.
Coincidentally, though I'm reading this from a suburb in the U.S., the people sitting next to me at Starbucks are speaking in Arabic. I'm trying to figure out what kind of Arabs they are, by which I just mean what country they're from, I guess, since as you point out, that there are different groups of Arabs from different descent is hard to parse. Anyway, the world, it's interconnected!
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