Diary of a Londoner in Beirut

Opinion piece by Francesco Pitzalis, Staff Writer

August 15th, 2020

A shockwave warped my senses. My vision entered slow motion as the window adjacent to my bed crumpled like a piece of rice paper. Daggers of glass were propelled across the room towards the bathroom. I pulled the bathroom door against my body as the window shattered. Alarms wailed in the apartment block and a woman’s scream pierced through the dusty Beirut air. My first emotion post-blast was a feeling of serenity. I was alive and overjoyed to be alive. I told myself not to panic as phone calls streamed in from distressed family members. My cousin ordered me to pack my bags like a “coussa mehshe (stuffed courgette)”. Whatever that means… presumably quickly and unsystematically. I loaded my belongings into his car and mustered  a half-smile to a friendly passer-by. We drove towards my Great Aunt’s house in Achrafieh amidst panicked cries and destitute faces twisted in anguish. It felt surreal but paradoxically more tangible. Achrafieh is where my mother grew up; this was her home. 

I called out to my Great Aunt as we arrived. “OUR TOURIST?! AHLAN! (welcome)” she responded. The house was a wreck: Glass fragments frosted the floors, doors had been blown off their hinges and Provencal-style shutters had been pelted five metres across the room. The severity of the event began to crystallise. I held back the tears as I swept some of the rubble aside. I scolded myself for even considering crying. Who the fuck was I to cry? I had not lost my home, my family or my livelihood… I was a Londoner who happened to be in Beirut when disaster struck. What possible grievances could I have compared to most Lebanese. These sentiments may be all too commonplace amongst the millions of Lebanese in the diaspora; a modality of survivor’s guilt, or maybe expatriate’s guilt, the contrition that one has escaped unscathed whilst his or her compatriots suffer. 

The next day began with an effort to get the family moving. My cousins took long drags of their IQOS cigarettes followed by gulps of their espressos. Their tobacco dependency was an embodiment of the immobilising and palpable helplessness felt by the Lebanese. Years of civil war were followed by years of state mismanagement and collapse. What more could a person do but crave the feeling of instant gratification provided by a cigarette. We bought a hamper of brooms, buckets, gloves and helmets and headed to our Great Aunt’s place. My three cousins and I worked towards a solution where she could at least move through the house without shredding her feet on the glass. Her bedroom, however, was beyond salvation. A full clean-up was also vetoed by my incensed Great Aunt, who gesticulated wildly at the rubble and screamed “I want them to see what these criminals did!”. 

We continued onto Gemmayze, where youths would once enjoy a drink amongst the ornate heritage buildings. Gemmayze was the worst hit residential area of Beirut and the roads looked more like glaciers than asphalt. We immediately started sweeping. My rage was reaching fever pitch. How could a government possibly leave 2750 tonnes of explosives next to its country’s main port, emergency wheat reserves and capital city? My right thumb tore into a button sized blister as I hammered away at the mountains of glass. I didn’t give a fuck, pain was necessary at this point, even just to acknowledge the actuality of the catastrophe. Terrorists I thought, “TERRORISTS!” I was unaware if I was thinking or screaming out loud in the haze of the chaos. Many volunteers in Gemmayze mirrored my infuriation, believing that the government didn’t act fast enough following the blast, let alone seven years prior, when the explosive ammonium nitrate docked in the port. 

What should be done in the aftermath of this tragedy? Aid and prayers are no longer enough for Lebanon, now it has plunged to the depths of despair. Firstly, due to endemic corruption and cronyism in government and civil society. Secondly, due to political posturing, inaction and oppression in the face a revolution calling for an end to sectarianism and clientelism. Lastly, the COVID-19 pandemic, which exacerbated social and economic turmoil to a sickening climax. The Lebanese Lira plummeted in value by 80% within 6 months, unemployment soared, and hundreds of thousands are now at risk of starvation. The explosion, as my dear Great Aunt put it, was the “Ciliegia sulla torta” (the cherry on the cake) for the Lebanese people. 

Before the 4th of August 2020 I was an enthusiastic but virtual supporter of the Lebanese revolution. I was not afraid to speak my views but acknowledged my lack of empirical understanding as a person of Lebanese descent outside of Lebanon. I hesitated to challenge those close to me who opposed the revolution and empathised superficially with those who prioritised order in non-action before chaos in reform. However, at this point neutrality is beyond consideration. Not only has this government plundered state institutions, stolen people’s money from private bank accounts and desecrated the environment but is entirely culpable for the biggest explosion in human history since Hiroshima and Nagasaki. This government is beyond negligent, it is terroristic. The extent of the Lebanese government’s egregious negligence is personified in full by former foreign minister, Gebran Bassil. In an interview with the BBC, Bassil said “The question now is not about its [ammonium nitrate] presence. The question now is about how it was ignited.” If ever there was a statement epitomising the delusional, irresponsible, incompetent and criminal behaviour of the Lebanese government, this would be it. Could you imagine Boris Johnson or Donald Trump leaving 2700  tonnes of explosives next to London or Washington DC and subsequently denying responsibility once the inevitable manifested itself? 

The rebuilding of the state of Lebanon is a responsibility that must be shouldered by all Lebanese (home and abroad) and the international community. I implore international readers to reject their government’s inaction in response to this cataclysm. Similarly, for them to encourage western reporting of the #beirutblast delineated in a fashion withdrawn from the orientalist perspectives frequently used to typify Lebanon. The great Edward Said described orientalism as a didactic, panoptic Western perspective superimposed on the ‘orient’ which dehumanizes ‘orientals’ as backward, terroristic and intransigent peoples. That considered, the blast should not be considered either an inevitability or intrinsic to Middle Eastern states. It is a product of the Lebanese sectarianism implemented since the days of Ottoman and French mandate rule that has been exploited to divide the Lebanese and secure patronage. Such patronage has only been enhanced since the end of the civil war in 1990, where regional powers and Western states treated Lebanon as a virtual chess board to secure their interests. The tripartite Taef accord between the US, Saudi Arabia and Syria engendered 15 years of Syrian occupation and has since characterised Western disregard for Lebanese sovereignty. The resulting lack of accountability is why a gargantuan amount of explosives was sitting in Beirut port for 7 years unperturbed. The crime against humanity of the 4th of August was therefore decades in the making. 

One-dimensional Western media also seems to construct a prototype of the Lebanese people as boundlessly resilient, industrious and hedonistic in the face of trauma. These stereotypes may have some basis but distract from the problems concurrently swept under the carpet. Likewise, whilst I am proud of Lebanese fortitude, no amount of fighting spirit will overthrow Lebanon’s oppressors without a structured and impartial international response. In the same vein, the Western media furthers the narrative that the Christians, Sunnis, Shiites and Druze of Lebanon are diametrically opposed. Such orientalist “clash of civilisations” narratives are evidenced by pervasive clientelism and unending tribal wrangling throughout virtually every strand of Lebanese society. However, although I acknowledge that these faults are unequivocal, I insist that a dismantling of Lebanese sectarianism is essential NOW. The secularisation of Lebanon cannot be left to occur organically, as of course it was not ratified organically. Sectarian quotas in the Ottoman empire and French mandate made the Lebanese more sectarian, not less. A sectarian civil war made the Lebanese more sectarian, not less. As such, a punctuated secularising equilibrium is necessary to save the state and enable reform to the country’s consciousness from the bottom up. Irrespectively, to every proud Lebanese reading; secularisation and anticorruption starts with you. To those who cling to their leaders with the affection of a child to her mother’s breast, I suggest they look around. Who is clearing your streets? Who is distributing your supplies? Who is rebuilding your city? The internal security forces have demonstrated greater exuberance in tear-gassing protestors than clearing away the rubble that re-ignited the rage in the revolution’s heart. The state therefore prioritises saving face and redirecting blame over exercising genuine humanitarianism for their people. Do not accept shifting of accountability from one war criminal to the next. This disaster is symptomatic of a systematic failure of accountability. Do not let your leaders entice you with crumbs of solidarity after they disembowelled your city. 

States who aim to help Lebanon should distance themselves from the disastrous initiatives previously employed by the west in the Middle East. An ugly mixture of carpet bombings and sham elections will not resolve this crisis, it will embed it. The visit of President Macron to the streets of Gemmayze provided a shred of hope, albeit no reforms have been enacted and his forebears undoubtedly entrenched Lebanese sectarianism (but I may be digressing a tad). Nevertheless, there is a great need for international leaders who are ready to look the wounded in the eye. Leaders who are ready to acknowledge the failings of the international community in Lebanon. Leaders who refuse to give a penny to the corrupt Lebanese government and instead empower the Lebanese revolutionaries to reform their state. As Amal Clooney put it, “the Lebanese do not need a leg up, they need to be set free.” The international community must aid the removal of the Lebanese government, bring the entire political class to trial, end sectarianism and enforce valid, secular elections. How can the west watch this great people sink? A community rich in culture, history and civilisation. A people who never fail to amaze in generosity, vigour and creativity. The leaders of the developed world must not offer trifling gestures of tokenism with prayers and well-wishes. Motioning is not enough. Action is imperative. The international community must decide if it is to dawdle in the face of terrorism and oppression. The world is watching.