I want to talk about Lebanon… the tragedy of the Beirut explosion, which has since gone viral, and the one thing we can learn from its people.
The explosion video had enough of a shock factor that everyone is talking about Lebanon. It’s strange. Heartbreaking.
But Lebanon needs eyes on it right now. The people are calling for change, and this needs international pressure.
As a proud Lebanese woman, it’s difficult to be away from my country right now. I want to march the streets and scream at the injustice. I want to sweep the roads, give out food, and storm parliament alongside my brothers and sisters.
But outside of donating, there isn’t much I can do other than spread awareness.
So here’s my love letter to Lebanon, a country of resilience , why it will survive the Beirut explosion, and the one thing all countries should learn from its people.
NOTE: If you want to donate, skip to the bottom for a list of organizations to ensure the money goes to the people and not into the pockets of the corrupt.
Why should you care about Lebanon?
Lebanon is one of the oldest countries in the world. It’s home to 5 UNESCO World Heritage Sites, including Byblos, the oldest inhabited city in the world, and the mysterious ancient ruins of Baalbek.
Lebanon is the birthplace of the alphabet and the very first law school, the Law School of Beirut.
It gave us Gibran Kahlil Gibran, my personal hero and writer whose works made waves across history. His book, The Prophet, is one of the best-selling books of all time and coveted by many famous artists, like Elvis Preseley, John Lennon, Johnny Cash, and David Bowie. He is the the third best-selling poet of all time, after William Shakespeare and Lao Tzu.
The education system is impressively robust, resulting in an above-average literacy rate. Most people are trilingual (Arabic, French, and English). Aremnian is also spoken.
Lebanon is a major trade and cultural hub in the Middle East, known for its progressive ideologies. And an incredibly diverse place, housing a myriad of religions living side by side.
Suffice it to say it’s a country filled with incredibly intelligent folk, sports a vibrant culture, and has contributed significantly to human society.
It’s a culture we can learn a lot from, but for the sake of this post, I’ll focus on the Beirut explosion and how it showcases the tenacity of Lebanese people.
Economic and Political Unrest: Then and Now
Lebanon shares borders with Israel and Syria. I won’t go into details but you can imagine political and religious strife can get pretty fucking intense.
This resulted in the Lebanese Civil War of 1975-1990, which destroyed the capital of Beirut and killed around 120,000 people. My grandfather is one of them.
My mother lived through this horrific time and I grew up on her stories of violence and resilience.
Lebanon then underwent a reconstruction program, which indebted the country at 150% of its GDP.
Well shit.
And although the country stabilized after the civil war, it never truly recovered. A corrupt government and widening gap between the rich and the poor ignited mass protests in October 2019.
The COVID-19 pandemic put a pause on these protests until the Beirut explosion this week. And all hell broke loose once again.
See Reflections on Travel in the Age of COVID-19 on why travel is essential for our wellbeing.
Aftermath of the Beirut Explosion
The explosion at the port in Beirut is a glaring shortfall of the Lebanese government.
People are revolting non-stop and succeeded in storming several ministries and the parliament, causing it to resign.
But after decades of war and government shuffling, the Lebanese people are saying that’s not enough.
Videos show protesters enraged that they can barely get power in their homes (explosion or not), yet when they stormed the ministries, they found them fully lit and air-conditioned.
And in this video, a woman begs France President Emmanuel Macron not to give money to their government, knowing it will never reach the people.
The loss of life and destruction is devastating. And the explosion left 300,000 people homeless.
But it’s only the beginning.
The damaged port was a big economic hub for Lebanon, and enabled the trade of grains. So this is not good for a country already struggling economically and whose food supply is now uncertain.
And on Mental Health… Bleak
I talk a lot about mental health on this blog but I’m not sure how to talk about the collective healing of one people.
The mental health movement is still so young and just now gaining traction. And we haven’t yet moved beyond individualistic means of healing. From the Western front, mental healing at a national level remains in its infancy.
I have experience in psychosocial responses to emergencies so I know they require an incredible amount of resources, coordination, and robust infrastructure by which to reach people and have an impact.
And this is unrealistic for countries who need it most, those who are war-torn and have no infrastructure to speak of.
Especially for Lebanon, which is scarred by a civil war, rampant with corruption, and in the grips of a pandemic.
What We Can Learn from Lebanon: The people, the people, the people
Okay Pamela. So far, this seems pretty bleak.
I know. It is.
But Lebanon has a superpower. And that’s the people.
I traveled a lot in my life yet haven’t found the same caliber of people as those Lebanese motherfuckers. They can be intimidating, even to me, with their quick wit, intellect, and intensity.
I have a trademark “Lebanese look” which my friends endlessly tease me about. And they need to understand where it comes from.
In the aftermath of the Beirut explosion, the world should watch and learn from Lebanon.
This is a people that died in their hearts a hundred times and rose again with more tenacity, more passion, more faith. The Lebanese Civil War brought down on them more horrors than they can speak about.
They survived endless catastrophes. They buried loved ones, whispered about change in the quiet of their homes, and when it became too much, rose up in rebellion.
And when they’re not screaming at the sky, they feast on exquisite food, drink arak, and party into the sunrise.
And they are fucking funny. Like, stomach-cramp fall-off-your-chair level funny.
There’s a reason the cedar is Lebanon’s national emblem. It symbolizes endurance and strength.
They taught me to embody that, and the pride of their mountains and the calm of the sea.
They gifted me with fearlessness. And they understand that life is hard and bloody and exquisite and rapturous and everything in between.
These are soldiers. And that’s the one thing we can learn from them. They won’t wait on any Government to save them. They will stand with the pride of the Cedars of God and save themselves.
Update
Case in point, creatives of Lebanon refuse to wait for the government and have just launched initiatives calling for architects, engineers, plumbers, and technicians to rebuild the capital themselves. I fucking love this country.
Share, share, share.
Final Thoughts
It’s my mission to spread awareness about Lebanon, its incredible culture and people. So share this and discuss with anyone who will listen.
Legend says Lebanon has been rebuilt 7 times.
It will rebuild an 8th time.
Family, I light a candle for you every night.
You’ll not only survive this, you’ll fucking thrive. Clean your streets, help your neighbors, eat tabbouleh.
I’ll visit as soon as I can.
Much love,
P
WHERE TO DONATE
Lebanon needs your help. Here’s where you can donate. Spread the word.
Today’s Tunes: Li Beirut by Fairouz
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
Gibran Khalil Gibran
