“Billets d’humeur” on Lebanon has moved to a new address:

http://sleimans.wordpress.com/

All the hitherto published posts have been exported, so see you there!

I remember very clearly watching one of Hizbullah’s highest-ranking officials proudly proclaiming on TV during the July war (12 July-14 August 2006): “3000 victims in one month are nothing to us. We can compensate them in one night.” His name is Nabîl Qâwûq, sheikh Nabîl Qâwûq, the security chief of God’s Party in southern Lebanon. He had just been told, minutes earlier, that the total number of Lebanese victims (killed and injured) was estimated to 3000.

I now wish I had written down the exact reference of the statement. I am sure it can be easily found in the archives of the Arab press.

Martyrdom Wisdom #2: Make love and war.

P.S.: I am waiting to receive my review copy of Thanassis Cambanis‘s new book, A Privilege to Die: Inside Hezbollah’s Legions and Their Endless War Against Israel, New York, Free Press, 336 pp.

In my country, martyrs never die, they are just missing in action.

One year ago, I wrote a note that I entitled “Bashir Gemayel: You Love Him, We Hate Him.” My argument, then, was very simple; as a matter of fact, it was more the observation of an obvious fact that I wanted to draw the reader’s attention to, by way of reminder; my miniature thesis was that Bashir Gemayel crystallized the hopes and dreams of an important part of the Lebanese (mainly Christians, it is true), and still crystallizes them after his death–and will continue to for a long, long time; on the other hand, he is loathed and despised by another important part of the Lebanese (mainly Muslims, one has to admit). “Mainly,” in both cases, but not exclusively. The Lebanese are characterized by a cleaved collective memory, or more precisely: cleaved collective memories. Just stating a fact.

I read in today’s Safîr (Thurs., Sept. 16th) an article by Nasri Sayegh, entitled “Bashir Gemayel… Won’t Come Back Again.” Bashir is dead and buried, and so is his project, says he. The man and his project were doomed from the beginning; one cannot survive when standing at odds with the whole Arab-Muslim world, especially when one hails from an Arab-Muslim country. That’s the substance of the author’s point.

He has a point indeed, and it is not irrelevant. However, the article does not tell the Lebanese anything new at all; both sides know that, it’s déjà vu, a billet d’humeur, an opinion piece. I would rather he published it on his blog–that’s a common practice. But he chose to publish it in the press, perhaps just to please the important part of the Lebanese who, he knew, agrees with him, and to piss off the other part who, he knew, utterly disagrees. Fair enough, that’s what the press is for, sometimes.

Everyone is entitled to having his own opinions, assuredly, but expressing them ought to be a pondered act. What is the benefit of reviving such a polemic? What is the benefit of exploiting Lebanese antagonisms? We have diverging views over our past. Lebanon’s heroes are not every Lebanese’s heroes. Consider Fakhreddin II, Emir Bashir II, Kamal Junblat, Bashir, to name just a few. Lebanon’s martyrs are not every Lebanese’s martyrs, etc. Long story made short: Lebanon is a textbook case of divided collective memories. (Rousseau would add: Je l’ai déjà dit mais il n’est pas inutile de le répéter.)

This is not a criticism directed towards the article, nor its author. Again, I am extremely liberal (read: indifferent). But I wouldn’t have written it. I accept the fact that we are a house of many mansions, that we constantly struggle over our perceived history. Knowing that, it’s high time we moved on from our inept byzantine discussions and started engaging in a scientific and academic path. Only further research can be constructive. Even the detractors of the Maronites know that the Maronite-Israeli connection is much more complex than that. History and sociology will be useful to determine the volitions underlying the Maronites’ acts, and the contexts in which the power struggles took place. Alternatively, one would be led to believe that the Maronites behaved in such a way because they are innately traitors and rogue elements in the Arab world–find the explanation you like: genes, religion, whatever. I remember this not-so-old article by As’ad Abukhalil on the treacherousness of the Maronites, also published in the Safîr–a simplistic and hateful analysis, that one, trying to impress its readers by a display of academic sources (but hey, he’s the Angry Arab, no wonder he’s a hater). The thread of the real story lies off the beaten track, not in square one.

It is pointless to express one’s affection or lack of affection for Lebanon’s historical figures. And who is to say “you’re stupid” to his fellow-citizen for believing in certain cause? Would we grow up?…

I might as well feel flattered that this article was written, for it could mean that I was correct: Bashir Gemayel… you love him, we hate him.

I’ve been hanging out a lot with a Lebanese fellow lately–néyim éyim as we say ‘chez nous.’ He’s adamantly Maronite from Mount-Lebanon and has an issue with being called an Arab. To most Westerners, the Arabic-speaking countries are called the Arab countries, and the people coming from these Arab countries are Arabs. Obviously, this is what self-proclaimed Arabs also say, so why wouldn’t Arabs be simply called Arabs?

As a matter of fact, most Westerners also take for granted that all Arabs are Muslims. If an opinion is shared by the majority of a certain population, does that mean it is necessarily true? The answer no. (If you answered yes, you are a populist.)

My friend prefers to be called “Mediterranean”, “Oriental,” or “Levantine.”  He contends that Maronites are historically not Arabs but Syriacs (or Syro-Aramaeans.)

I don’t like to go into endless controversies about history and culture. In matters of identity, I am totally liberal. I consider that everybody has the right to determine his own identity insofar as he commits to it. You choose freely your identity, it doesn’t choose you; it cannot–should not–be imposed upon you. Who are you to say what the Other is and what he is not? Call him what he wants to be called. When you talk about him, hold a speech he can recognize himself in.

Liberal is a term that I use to mean “indifferent.” Yes, choose whatever identity you like, what do I care. Whatever makes you happy. Identity is a masquerade, but a necessary one. It is an arbitrary construction, but a solid one.

I am not proud to be an Arab. I am not proud to be anything. I neither consider myself Arab nor Syriac nor anything else. Arabness (‘urûba) does not mean anything specific. It is a useful tote bag, that’s all. Especially in Arab politics where rhetoric is always better than action.

Spare me these identity talks. My human identity alone is enough for me to bear. And it’s too often an alienating burden.

"Our land is not Arab land" - http://samsonblinded.org/ - Feb 8, 2008

Here is a remake of Pink Floyd’s legendary subversive song “Another Brick In The Wall”, which was released in 1979, the same year as the Iranian Revolution. It is the first single released in January 2010 by Blurred Vision, as the band is called. Of course, the  two rebels are Iranian!

Blurred Vision – Hey Ayatollah, Leave Those Kids Alone (youtube.com)

Facebook Page:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Blurred-Vision/69014127393

Homepage:

www.blurredvisionmusic.com

The Inter-Religious Academy (also named the Academy of Inter-Religious Dialogue), another goodwill-seeking attempt to alleviate the inter-ethnic antagonism in Lebanon which deserves all our encouragement and support, closed its doors yesterday. Unfortunately, no website has been created yet, only a Facebook group page (see Interreligious Academy) including the basic information and a number of TV interviews with the organizers, diffused on local channels, which have been added on YouTube. The main sponsoring institution is Notre Dame University-Louaize under the supervision of Prof. Ziad Fahed, who has been setting up the project since March 2010. The Academy’s gathering site is the Focolare Center in ‘Aïn ‘Aar (a locality of the Metn in Mount-Lebanon) where 17 male and female participants of different religious affiliations shall live together for a two-week period (from Saturday 17 until Sunday 25 July, 2010). Here are some excerpts of the mission statement:

The Inter-religious Academy seeks to foster and facilitates the interaction and communication between the different faith groups in the country especially the younger generation.

The Inter-religious Academy is a project of the Dialogue for Life and Reconciliation Organization. It aims to create a space to foster dialogue, understanding and build bridges between the different faiths in the Middle East.

The project is oriented toward actual or future religious leaders and members of the civil society from different faiths who are interested in interfaith dialogue and humanizing the other through:

1. Learning skills that will enable one to understand the Other.

2. Understanding of differences and embracing diversity within one’s own faith group and the Other.

3. Breaking stereotypes by fostering dialogue and promoting understanding

The Academy’s program included daily presentations, mostly given by religious authorities (namely Sayyid Hani Fahs and Shaykh Nuhammad al-Nuqarri), about the principles of faith of Lebanon’s religious sects–obviously focusing on the common schemes–, social bonding activities (such as workshops and movie projections), as well as excursions to sacred sites (Qadisha Valley, Prophet Job’s sanctuary in Niha…) and visits to confessional foundations. Clerics and laypeople with longstanding experience and involvement in Muslim-Christian dialogue practices were also present, such as Father Fadi Daou and Mrs. Nayla Tabbara (both from Saint Joseph University), and Minister Ibrahim Shamseddin, son of former president of the Supreme Islamic Shi’ite Council Muhammad Mahdi Shamseddin (1936-2002).

It goes without saying–although I’ve already said it, heh–that such an original contribution to the promotion of inter-sectarian entente in this deeply divided country is unquestionably praiseworthy, as modest as it may be. On Sunday 25th, the participants regretfully departed from the Academy, bearing the fresh memory of a great human experience. Organizers say the event was a real success and have already envisaged a second edition next year.

This said,  I persist in believing that any initiative of this sort is somewhat off the mark, and the path of inter-religious dialogue in Lebanon is  doomed to remain a blind alley. I am not an inter-religious dialogue discontent but a skeptic, simply because–well–Lebanon’s problem is not religious, it is sectarian. I rephrase: the deadlock is not the result of religions or day-to-day interaction between individuals, it is the result of the political interaction between the different sects.

I understand how important it is, in such an ultra-complicated strip of land, to point up the bright side of each religion and to zero in on the “transcendent unity of all religions” (i.e., the idea that God is in the center and that all the paths designed by the different religions lead to Him).

However, I don’t like marmalades of good sentiments either. The bone of contention lies within the cultural and political implications of the major religious sects. It all has to do with identity politics, that’s the heart of the matter. Religious stereotypes (i.e., preconceived ideas about the behavior of other groups allegedly provoked by religion) are normal secretions of religious pluralism; they’ve always existed everywhere pluralism was found.

No inter-whatever academy can solve our inexorably antagonistic collective memories, our contrasting feelings towards East and West, our diverging conceptions of the Lebanese nation, our conflicting representations of identity, and our essentially different expectations as to Lebanon’s role in the region and its relation to its neighbors.

The state of Lebanon will be 90 years old soon, and all I can see is failure.

——————-

Related post: “Politically Correct But Harmonically Incorrect”, 12 July 2010.

I received a message of support from a reader today which made me smile. Of course, every writer feels flattered when his efforts are appreciated by the audience. But there was another reason. This reader pointed out a crucial aspect of what I believe in. I was thanked because my discourse on “Modernity” goes against the grain, in other words, against the widespread praiseful discourse.

Let me make a few things clear: I am not anti-modern. I am only highly critical towards what is called “Modernity”.

I believe Max Weber was wrong when he tried to prove that modernity is associated with the so-called “disenchantment of the world” (the German word Entzauberung actually means “demystification” or “de-magicization”; “démagification” in French).

And I believe that Marcel Gauchet, in his benchmark analysis Le désenchantement du monde, just like most scholars who wrote on modernity and post-modernity, are wrong if they believe that post-modernity means the re-enchantment of the world.

IMHO, modernity was a movement of (re-)enchantment par excellence. The Moderns undertook to de-construct everything pertaining to what is called “traditional society”. They learned that Tradition was in the most part a fabric of myths, of human illusions which had governed the life and mind and soul of millions and millions of beings. But in the process, they got carried away by their discoveries. The Moderns were not disenchanted, they were disenchanted towards Tradition. They were not enchanted by magic or the supernatural, or God, but by Goddess Reason. Hence the modern excesses (which I name Modernism) such as scientism, positivism, ultra-rationalism, empiricism, Marxian materialism, etc., which in essence all converge in the belief that Goddess Rationality provides all the answers to human existence.

Soon enough, the Moderns established their own tradition–a modern (or modernist) tradition. Many of them developed arrogance towards Tradition, an arrogance that will rapidly become part of the modern(ist) tradition. The problem with modernity is that it was overconfident in what it had to offer; too cocky, too certain, too convinced. Under the spell of Goddess Rationality. Too enchanted.

Modernity passed away in the 1970s. Global crises are our only reality checks that our solidly anchored convictions and certitudes are pure dust. Like everything human, ideas have a birth, an evolution, and an end.

I am not sure whether I adhere to the paradigm of post-modernity or not. Mainly because I don’t know what it actually is. This said, I am post-modern for sure, in the strict sense of the word. I belong to a generation born with the disenchantment towards modernity. Modernity was a big bluff. It yielded revolutionary concepts, discoveries, and ideologies, which dramatically changed our perception of, and power over, life and death.

But it’s time to move on. Modernity has become obsolete, c’est has-been, quoi. Its “rational” constructions, which have progressively formed a neo-Tradition, need to be reconsidered. It is high time we initiated the radical de-construction of Modernity (radical: from the roots).

My personal conviction is that human rationality alone is utterly incapable of encompassing the immensity of the Cosmos.

A bit of intellectual jadedness would be of no harm, especially as the current global crisis is giving us an opportunity to re-think our civilization. So go ahead, be skeptical towards the acquired knowledge of our modernity. There are so many wonders, myths, and illusions to give in to, for the Creation is above all paradigms.

Is this funny? For sure, it won’t be a funny game.

Paul the Octopus on the upcoming Lebanese-Israeli war. Source: Hizbullah.

An article in Blomberg News says that Beirut’s synagogue, Magen Avraham, will reopen in 2011 after being closed for 35 years. The synagogue, inaugurated in 1926, is beautiful indeed. I have read in very reliable sources that it is still the biggest synagogue in the entire Middle East.

The problem is: there are no Jews left in Lebanon. Statistics vary between 80 and 200 remaining people whose average age is 65. Clearly, there are more funerals than Bar Mitzvahs in the extinct Jewish community within Lebanon.

The last Rabbi left the country shortly after the outbreak of the civil war. The community will now seek to appoint a new Sephardic Rabbi familiar with the Middle Eastern rituals of the region (shouldn’t he be Mizrahi rather than Sephardic?).

I wonder how many people will attend the Shabbat office on Friday and Saturday. And who will be the hazzan?

The synagogue is a symbol, and we like symbols. Doesn’t the Preamble of our Constitution enjoin us to respect the Pact of Coexistence by all means?

It is high time the synagogue was restored and reopened. But this event is also a political move through which the Lebanese government and people wants to cock a snook at Israel and show that they know how to make a difference between Zionism and Judaism. In return, the Lebanese state requires from the local Jewish community to show antipathy towards Israel.

Lofty initiative, but at the end of the day… pathetic. First, judeophobia exists in Lebanon. During the 2005 parliamentary elections, a mayor of Ain el-Mreysseh, having learned that one Lebanese Jew had voted (always the same one, and a symbolic vote too), urged to kidnap him in order to exchange him for Lebanese detainees in Israel. I read that in the newspaper then. In November 2008, SSNP supporters attacked Future News TV reporter Omar Harqous (Sunni, I presume) with sticks in Beirut’s Hamra Street, calling him a “Jew”.

Second, most Lebanese Jews today are pro-Israeli. It’s a fact. Actually, there are three categories of Lebanese Jews: (1) those who are anti-Israeli/anti-Zionist. These form a minority, and some of them live in Lebanon. (2) Those who are not involved in politics, whose only country is Lebanon and to whom Israel is a foreign thing. Most of them are those who remained in Lebanon, but some of them live abroad too. (3) Those who support Israeli policy at various degrees. From what I have observed, it seems to me that most Lebanese Jews born and raised abroad pertain to the last category.

This said, all Lebanese sects have “feelings” for other countries: Iran, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, the US etc. Which makes things more complicated.

I would be really glad to attend the reopening ceremony of Magen Avraham. I know my Hebrew prayers enough to be a good Jew. Plus, I have a few kipot in my closed and I am circumcised. But I remain a pork-eating goy. So, will they will still have me?

If not, let us import some Jews along with the future Rabbi and show the world how we coexist. As if Muslim-Christian coexistence were not tiresome enough.