Reading and watching Geagea give press statements on his candidacy, I remember the space of terror he used to occupy for myself and my friends in Tariq al-Jadidah. I remember watching mortars explode from a window with a view of the northern coast with my grade school classmates during the Aoun-Geagea war. I remember a year spent in a mountainous Beirut suburb, away from school and from an apartment untenably close to “the Green Line.” Today, I try to imagine what a Palestinian in Lebanon thinks when she sees Geagea on TV confidently lay out why he should be president. Does her heartbreak as one by one, journalists fail to ask Geagea about his involvement in war time massacres? Has her heart been broken too many times in Lebanon, and does she simply change the channel? No one asks Geagea, or his rival Gemeyyel, about their wartime alliances with Israel, or their complicity in the siege of West Beirut, or their wars with rival Maronite leaders that left thousands dead and maimed.
I remember listening to the news with my family on the way to school the day that Gemeyyel left Beirut for Paris—It was a happy day. Years earlier, my five-year-old self had found an unexploded ordinance on our balcony in Tariq al-Jadidah. Amin Gemeyyel was President and he had ordered the army to shell the area. Many refused the order and deserted. I like to think that the unexploded ordinance on our balcony was the result of a soldier consciously removing explosive materials from mortal shells, knowing that his act would save the lives of residents. In reality, however, we have no idea why that shell did not explode. We were just lucky.
We were lucky again when the Lebanese army shelled our neighborhood during Aoun’s “War of Liberation” against the Syrian army, a war which apparently required the Lebanese army to shell heavily congested civilian areas in West Beirut. One particularly terrifying night, as my family was clustered in our foyer where we had been sleeping for days, my mother spread her arms across a wall and kissed it. This is the first memory I have of my parents as ordinary people; fragile, afraid, vulnerable. I have never been as profoundly shaken in my life as I was in that moment, watching my mother hug a concrete wall during a night of heavy shelling.
(Link)
Brainwashing
Goebbels would have been proud. If you repeat a lie often enough, people will believe it, and you will even come to believe it yourself.
The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. The war is over.
It is ok for the warlords who slaughtered your families, burned your houses, raped your women, enslaved your sons and brothers to fight their wars, and collaborated with the neighbors in the east or/and south to rule you. It is ok for the warlords who slaughtered your families, burned your houses, raped your women, enslaved your sons and brothers to fight their wars, and collaborated with the neighbors in the east or/and south to rule you. It is ok for the warlords who slaughtered your families, burned your houses, raped your women, enslaved your sons and brothers to fight their wars, and collaborated with the neighbors in the east or/and south to rule you. It is ok for the warlords who slaughtered your families, burned your houses, raped your women, enslaved your sons and brothers to fight their wars, and collaborated with the neighbors in the east or/and south to rule you. It is ok for the warlords who slaughtered your families, burned your houses, raped your women, enslaved your sons and brothers to fight their wars, and collaborated with the neighbors in the east or/and south to rule you. It is ok for the warlords who slaughtered your families, burned your houses, raped your women, enslaved your sons and brothers to fight their wars, and collaborated with the neighbors in the east or/and south to rule you. It is ok for the warlords who slaughtered your families, burned your houses, raped your women, enslaved your sons and brothers to fight their wars, and collaborated with the neighbors in the east or/and south to rule you. It is ok for the warlords who slaughtered your families, burned your houses, raped your women, enslaved your sons and brothers to fight their wars, and collaborated with the neighbors in the east or/and south to rule you.
Now repeat, we are a democracy.
Carefully watch as Lebanon’s parliament speaker, a former warlord, calls for presidential elections where three of the four main candidates – also former warlords – are competing with the fourth candidate, who happens to be the grandson of the president that led Lebanon into civil war in 1975. While the parliamentary ‘swing votes’ depend on the opinion of yet another warlord, the next Lebanese president will be the most illegitimate one since 1943: In 2020, he would have been elected by the parliament of 2009 – a parliament that ironically extended its term for failing to vote a law. As the civil war rages in Syria, the presidential elections happen at a time when in the executive power rules no one other than the son of the prime minister whose last irresponsible years in power saw the beginning of what would later become a civil war.
This is Lebanon’s biggest irony. Not the power vacuum, not the civil war, not even this play they call the presidential elections. I tried to find a detail concerning the presidential elections that doesn’t involve civil-war related issues. En vain. The candidates are of the civil war era, their programs are of the civil war era, the parties are of the civil war era, the lawmakers are of the civil war era, the absence of parliamentary elections is of the civil war era, and even our former overlord to the East is in a civil war.
What scares me most isn’t a warlord ruling from Baabda. What scares me is the idea that a young sous-lieutenant would one day manipulate the army as he wishes so that he can become president. What scares me is the idea that a failed president and warlord can become president again. What scares me is the idea that someone can become president for the simple fact that his grandfather was once one. What scares me is the idea that a Medical student who dropped out of medical school in order to commit war massacres might one day become president.
So while you’re happily watching the presidential elections on TV, my dear reader, think of the following: When the war comes – God forbid – do you want a president whose election inspires the medical student to carry his rifle and slaughter you, or save your children in the hospitals?
This isn’t about what these men want. It’s about what their election represents.
When war comes, the Lebanese will cry for peace. But always remember: They were the ones who worshiped the gods of war in times of peace.
30 days till the 25th of May.








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