The Summer of the Defeated

There is the echo of defeat in the voice of the Lebanese these days. You can have a whiff of it in their discourse, no matter how much they argue, contend, and try to distort reality. They do not want to admit it. They reinvent illusions and deadlines and believe in them again. And yet, they have this feeling of defeat deep inside.

The country goes to elections then acts as if it hadn’t. A camp wins then acts as if it hadn’t. Another camp loses then acts as if it hadn’t. This one finagles about his victory. That other one finagles about his defeat. It is as if elections are nothing but a useless ornamental practice and the will of electors has no value.

Recent days have drained the joy of the young man who was ecstatic at the victory of the March 14 camp. Enjoying parliamentary majority does not imply an ability to form a government. If you form it according to your victory, you will be accused of violating the national pact and the principles of coexistence. You would open the door for the opposition to take to the streets. A simple friction is enough. Discord appears and we go back to square one, resorting to external help to control the desire of some external parties to interfere, then pleading with these parties to interfere to control the ambitions of internal parties.

The young man is feeling part of the defeat. Saad Hariri is the leader of the parliamentary majority. He is the head of the largest bloc; the undisputed leader of the Sunni community. He owns a large Lebanese and Arab legacy and an arsenal of international relations. If Saad is unable to form it, then who can? And if he excuses himself, who will dare drink from the cup? If he drinks the cup of the blocking third, what will happen to his balance? Perplexed, the young man says: if Saad is prevented from forming the government, the issue will have sectarian repercussions that cannot be hidden.

The young man is feeling part of the defeat. He observes the actions of Walid Jumblatt. He won in the elections but acts as if he lost. The man who took March 14 far, and sometimes farther than he should, is planting bombs in its ranks as if making them train for defeat. The young man’s concern increases when he feels that the other camp didn’t reward Jumblatt for his behavior. He praises him as the dismantler of March 14 and does not cover up his embarrassments with gifts.

A young man from March 8 is feeling defeat, or part of it. If the other camp is a traitor or linked to the exterior, why did it come back victorious from the ballot boxes? If it is accused in its national choices, why do we fight to sit with it and in its shadow in the government? Why didn’t voters entrust the March 8 forces to save the country and why did they deprive it of the parliamentary majority? Is it true that if these forces had won, we would’ve had to be patient and silent and wait, just like the victorious camp is currently doing?

The young man asks himself: is it true that we have strong people in part of the country but not on its whole territory? Is the ability of the strong man here and there an ability to obstruct and object that can never turn into an ability to solve? Is it true that the sources of strength are in conflict with the project of the state? Are we the sons of a failed regime or the sons of a failed nation?

Before Rafic Hariri’s assassination, the Lebanese used to cover up their inability to agree among themselves. They came up with various excuses, at the forefront of which was the role of the Syrian officer residing in Anjar. They spoke out loudly or whispered that his interventions had the ability to change, prevent, and obstruct things. Such words were whispered by some of those who wasted their youth on the Beirut-Damascus road. Today, this officer is no longer there. So why don’t the Lebanese agree among themselves?

The Lebanese summer has the echo of defeat. The Lebanese are strong enough to prevent Lebanon from being saved. The Lebanese are weaker than the requirements for a creative and just settlement that would close the Lebanese arena and produce a state in accordance with the conditions that are agreed upon. It seems the Lebanese model seems to be seriously defective. It is as if the concept of Lebanon is greater than the ability of the Lebanese to fully grasp the secret of its continuity and renewal.

How nice it is to be a tourist in Lebanon. How hard it is to be a Lebanese living in it. The tourist’s summer is open to joy; the summer of the Lebanese is open to worry. The issue is more complicated than forming a government. It is the failure in forming a country.