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.

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.

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.

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...

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?

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.

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.