J'accuse!

Je viens de rentrer de la cérémonie de remise de diplômes aux élèves de terminale au collège Melkart. Je devais dire un mot au nom du comité. Mon mal étant très grand, mon inquiétude dépassant les pépins de leur avenir académique et professionel, j'ai accusé... Zola était là, en moi...

Jai crié ce que je considère être de loin plus important que les soucis de leur futur académique... J'ai crié ma rage. Mon cri a atteint les coeurs.. Mais pendant combien de temps? 

Voici ce que j'avais à dire...

"Voici venu le grand jour...

Enfin ! Fini l’enfance, l’école et tout ce qui va avec...

Vous voilà à un nouveau seuil de votre vie, qui ne sera pas le seul.

Et en ce jour, aussi solennel... J’accuse !

- J’accuse notre génération de baisser les bras...

- J’accuse notre génération de n’avoir pas réussi à devenir de bons citoyens...

-J’accuse notre État confessionnel, sectaire, marginal et pitoyable....

- J’accuse notre incompétence à accepter et tolérer notre pluralisme....

-J’accuse notre peur de “l’autre”, cette peur qui nous pousse à nous haïr et à retirer l’humanité de toute personne osant être différente....

- J’accuse notre violence passive et/ou agressive, qui n’attend qu’un prétexte pour émerger à tout moment...

- J’accuse ce que nous léguons à nos enfants....

- J’accuse la peur et l’ignorance qui nous dicte notre quotidien, et qui nous pousse à croire qu’on détient la vérité, que nous seuls avons raison, que nous sommes une race supérieure...

Chers diplômés, pardonnez-nous si par peur, par mauvaise expérience, par mémoire courte et par succession d’erreurs... nous vous avons légués nos idées toutes faites et nos préjugés saugrenus...

Pardonnez-nous nos gaffes tout au long de ces années...

Au seuil d’une nouvelle porte de votre vie qu’allez-vous être? Qu’allez-vous devenir?

Laissons de côté votre spécialisation, votre carrière. Vous avez un bagage riche pour vous permettre de faire le bon choix. Votre collège vous a bien formé, vos parents aussi....

Qu’allez-vous retenir ? Dans quelle direction allez-vous creuser ?...

Quels citoyens serez-vous ?...

- Allez-vous faire comme nous ?

- Allez-vous perpétuer notre peur de la diversité ?

- Allez-vous vous contenter de geindre tout en restant coincés dans vos positions ?

- Allez-vous comme nous, prôner la citoyenneté, pour la reléguer derrière votre religion, votre clan, votre région ou votre parti politique, que vous mettrez toujours en premier ?

- Allez-vous, comme nous, adorer votre tortionnaire ?

- Allez-vous, bientôt, perpétuer la tradition de porter les mêmes visages au pouvoir par peur du changement ?

- Allez-vous encore nous croire quand on essaye de vous léguer notre vérité ? Nos partis pris ?

Ou bien allez-vous vous révolter contre nous ?

- Allez-vous nous surprendre avec votre capacité d’accepter la diversité de notre société ?

- Allez-vous démolir ces murs de peur et de haine qu’on a savamment érigé entre nous ?

- Allez-vous enfin croire que tous, nous aimons ce pays ? Tous, sans exception, mais  chacun à sa manière ?

- Allez-vous opter pour la communication constructive sans préjugés ?

Ou bien allez-vous, comme nous, vous contenter de parler pour ne rien dire ?

- Allez-vous user de votre jeunesse, de votre bagage, de vos rêves ?

- Allez-vous prouver à notre génération souffrante, que nous ne sommes pas condamnés à perpétuer la peur et la haine.

- Allez-vous prétendre, comme nous, que l’enfer et les problèmes,  c’est toujours les “autres”, ou allez-vous nous surprendre?

Le changement commence en soi. La révolution la plus dure est celle faite contre ses propres préjugés. La course la plus performante est l’autodépassement

Vous avez des ailes. Déployez-les !

Soyez le changement que vous voulez voir dans ce monde...

Vous êtes au seuil de la vie adulte: prenez votre envol, et creusez votre humanité. Le reste n’est que détails.

Bonne chance !

Tania Ghorra

Armageddon recap (all the way to hell)

Beirut- AFP

Let's try to recap all what happened in Lebanon during the month of May 2012, maybe we can understand madness...

1- "007" Arrest operation of a certain Shadi Moulawi, in Tripoli, northern Lebanon, from the social bureau of Mr Safadi (MP and Minister), allegedly accused of being a Qaeda activist, offering help to Syrian rebels.

2- Big demonstrations on the main square of the city by a group of angry Islamists demanding his immediate release "or else". Tents quickly put in the streets for a likely long sit-in.

3-Burning tires and closed streets all over the country.

4-Few hours later, clashes between everlasting enemies/brothers in 2 streets of high poverty and illiteracy starts. Alevis and Sunnis. The infamous Bab El Tabbaneh and Jabal Muhsen set on fire.

5-Heavy gun fire with elaborated costly weapons in the hands of people living under poverty line(2$/day), kids aged 10 and 12 armed and proud to "defend" their streets from intruders, left the city in a state of shock.

6-Army starts interfering. Snipers shoot passers by, victims on all sides, sit-in still active.

7-Hatred statements by some local leaders and religious illuminated souls. Army still calming down the game and entering hot neighborhoods.

8-Just as things seemed to start to wrap up, Bahrein, Qatar and UAE, simultaneously order their citizens to refrain from coming to Lebanon, and invite those here to leave (...).

9-Threats by "angry" "citizens" to bring the country down if Moulawi is not released.

10-Morning after, two opposing groups got the permission to have 2 opposite demonstrations in Halba (20 minutes away from Tripoli clashes), remembering a 2008 (May 7 clashes) sad chapter, where some people were savagely killed by other people savagely attacked (as they say). Bad timing, bad decision.

11-On an Army check point, something still unclear happened, shooting started and a Sunni Sheikh and his companion died on the spot, shot by the army, while on their way to one of the demonstrations. Both demonstrations cancelled.

Akkar-Credit Al-Akhbar

12-All Akkar and North Lebanon set on fire with anger. Revenge is the only demand. Blood versus blood.

13-Burning tires all over the country.Blocked streets.

14-Calls and talks, live coverage, open investigation...

15-Angry Islamists want their long time prisoners (without trial), in Roumieh prison, out, as a compensation, along with Moulawi.

Suddenly!

16- Out of nowhere, Beirut, Tariq Jdideh, lives a wild surrealist night. Clashes erupt between two Sunni fractions. One accusing a man and his group of being an intruder, unwelcome with his "different" ideas in the neighborhood( allegedly Shia Hizbullah sympathetic). I don't know why, but they decided to kick him out, using RPGs and heavy weapons. Beirut on fire.

17-Again, burning tires all around (plus garbage boxes closing the streets).

18-Other Lebanese people like myself, spent the night watching a real XBOX, Nintendo DS and PS3 war game live on TV, until 4 AM in the morning. Army stayed out of the game for hours before deciding to play and restore order.

19-Morning after: calm. Burned houses and cars. But the "unwanted" guy was out, declaring: "I'll be back!"

20-Barely realizing the situation and trying to link things together, Lebanese got another surprise...

Suddenly,

21-Moulawi was out! Released by Judge with a 500,000LL bail. He got back to Tripoli in MP Safadi's own car. Received a "hero"welcome by all. Oh he was just helping refugees here, his people claimed. Sit-in ended.

Tripoli- Reuters

22-Moulawi, a new public figure, a new face of heroism is born.

Suddenly,

23-Few hours later, breaking news: 11 Shia pilgrims coming back from Iran by land, kidnapped in Syria.

24-Burning tires all over the country. Streets blocked.

25-Long night waiting for the plane carrying the women pilgrims, released, while men still held hostages.

26-Seemingly calm day (finally), became just a mirage, when a clash erupted in USJ university, between Hezbollah (Shia) and Kataeb (Christian) students. Army interfering. Quick action from all to calm down the dangerous game.

Suddenly,

27-A breaking news: car bombing in Iraq hits a Lebanese pilgrims bus, killing 3 Shia women, and a dozen wounded...

28-Burning tires and few streets blocked.

29- Few blocks away, a gathering in Ashrafieh in support of the Lebanese Army, after the many accusations by some political groups. (No tires involved).

30- Three people shot one dead, in their shop, over a 47$ bill.

31- Burning tires. Streets blocked.

32- Night gala: Caracas, Hamra, Beirut. Four people started a fight with guns and hand grenades, terrorizing the neighborhood. Army interfere. Long night. Three security and army people shot...

33- Still no news from kidnapped pilgrims.
34- No one asking to disarm civilians.
35-Arms back to closets until tomorrow or the day after.
36-Kids back to schools for final exams, or to streets for final fight.
37-Kuwait joining other Gulf countries and not coming to Lebanon for summer.
38- ...Will keep you posted when I get number 38.

....
I tried. I really tried. I tried to link things. I tried to understand. I feel alienated. I feel silly. Did you understand a thing? because the only image I see, is that I lost a country. I lost a Nation. I lost hope.

R.I.P. the Nation

Bitching

What's bitching?

-Bitching is when you keep saying you're aware of your leader's faults and can't find one single mistake he did.
-Bitching is when you deny that your leader has something to do with your bad situation today.
-Bitching is when you desperately try to find silly explanations to his actions.
-Bitching is when your leader is not in power, he convinces you that he was a better leader.
-Bitching is when you keep saying you accept the others because your are the good guy.
-Bitching is when you keep saying women are equal but they are all bitches.
-Bitching is when you keep saying men are great but have their brain between their legs.
-Bitching is when you keep saying yes to woman education but no to equal chances at work.
-Bitching is when you keep saying men have no place in education and nag about their lack of involvement in it.

-Bitching is when you live wild with all available girls and refuse to marry an experienced one.
-Bitching is when you pretend you don't care for appearance and feel disgusted by people different from you.
-Bitching is when you say we're all equal and add your "BUT" before bitching on others.
-Bitching is when you encourage revolutions and stay on your couch doing nothing but wait for change, clicking 'LIKE' on your Facebook.
-Bitching is when you know a bad attitude, and decide to be a bystander.
-Bitching is when you talk about humanity for hours and dehumanize your housekeeper.
-Bitching is when you pretend to be something you're not.

-Bitching is not a fornication action, it is a fornicating thought.

-Bitching is not a gender issue, it's a human dark side.

-Bitching is an art we all master. And yes, it's the oldest one alive!

Happy Anniversary bunch of liars!

April 13,
Friday 13,
37 years after...

Yeah yeah, the bus of Ain El Remmaneh, war symbol of Lebanon is out again for one day.
Yeah yeah, few people standing chanting "no to war again" (tenzakar w ma ten3ad).
Yeah yeah, you're watching TV from the luxury of your home, sitting on your couch, switching between electricity and generator, jumping to the roof checking your water tank, and cursing war and its memories.

Yeah yeah, you're all nothing but liars!
What have you learned from war? What are you doing to prevent it? What will you do tomorrow if it starts all over again?
I know you liars! I see what you're telling your kids inside your walls. Silly! you think they keep your hatred and your fear of "others" at home??? They carry it to schools and vomit it to their close friends without even knowing what they are saying! They are repeating your madness!Verbally for now, until next round.
Bravo to you! you deserve a standing ovation! Now you're sure to have your kid carry your flame, till grave do you apart.

Yeah yeah, I believe you when you say you love Lebanon! You love it your way, you see your truth, a tailor made country, created to fit your squeezed, narrowed tiny sick size.

Yeah yeah you're right
Yeah yeah, they're wrong
Yeah yeah, your God is better
Yeah yeah, he will prevail with your help
Yeah yeah, you don't want war but will not stand here watching if "they" start
Yeah yeah, you accept others, BUT
Yeah yeah, you respect diversity, BUT
Yeah yeah, you are Arabs, BUT
Yeah yeah, you want peace, BUT

Why don't you shut up a little, why don't you admit a little.
Admit you are the same as 37 years ago, following the same leaders, the same myths, the same policy, the same path???

You learned nothing! you are liars! Your new generation is the proof! Willing to go back to war if it starts, meanwhile doing nothing to prevent it. Look at them waiting for their sons to come back... This is war! it's death, loss, tears, and regrets...

Credit: Ramzi Haidar AFP

You did nothing during all the time you had to learn, nothing but weep your destiny for being born in this part of the world. Nothing but chewing the same hatred and stereotypes. Nothing but electing and re-electing and re-re-electing the same people. Nothing but cursing them the next day you bring them for four years before going back to re-elect them once more.

You want things to change? really? you fat ass lazy corrupted little human beings! LIARS!
Read history, if you want to learn. But you choose the comfort of staying where they put you. You carry the Stockholm syndrome in your genes! Go read what Stockholm is all about!

You learned nothing!
And you're doomed to repeat your same mistakes.

So go on, cry a little, or cry a river, have your mea culpa for a few. Then go back to your hatred lessons again, you're so good at it!!!

Credit: Olivier Rebbot

Happy Anniversary bunch of liars! See you on the next round!

Essential tips to become an Arab political leader

-Be the "son of" or "from the family of" (Ben, El, Ibn...). In this part of the world, whatever you do, you will always be judged according to your family roots.

-Have a family tragedy in hand, a story to tell, to raise compassion. A chain reaction story. Someone killed, followed by another... any kind of drama that can always pop up when needed. Everybody knows story telling pays.

-Spend some time in the army, or in a militia or guerrilla. Try to take part in an armed conflict, be it against an external enemy or an internal one. Better be in command if available. You can create the hero story people strive for.

-Following your "wars", make money. If you did not inherit your several generations money, your chances of political leadership are lessen, BUT, you can always get with the right people, and make the "right" business, wait few years, become a mogul, then attack politics. That's when you succeed.

-Do charity, do charity, do charity. Always give enough to keep people starving and coming back to you for help. And try to archive every step there. Have the press always next to you.

-Talking about press, be very generous with some of them. Choose carefully. Be creative. And they'll be at your feet. And if you face some stubborn journalist, have enough power to shut his/her mouth up.

-Flirt. With superpowers, with oil countries, with intelligence, with men, with women...Just flirt.

-Once in your dream place, in real power, keep the smile, but strengthen your place.

-Eradicate any antagonist.
-Set your laws. Your rules.
-Get married, have children quickly. Have a boy (preferable). Raise him to become your heir: tell him your family name history, your family drama, your family trauma, your heroic battles, your achievements, or just your money. Put him next to you during charity acts. During media interviews...
In other words, read above, copy and paste in your heir's head.

Then, don't forget to thank me :)

Writing my history of the Lebanese civil war (1975-1990)

Chapter six

My first funeral.

Before having the chance to see the horrific broken Down Town of Beirut, I had to live another strong moment. My first funeral.
In Lebanon, it is a moment you never forget. An experience .
When the dead is young, the funeral becomes a macabre dance, a wedding, with rice and petals, screams and sad songs, drums and trumpets. The coffin swings and turns in public places, and the departed is for the last time, dancing without expressions.

The funeral I wasn’t invited to, was our young neighbor, Zouzou.
My memories of him before he died are vague, but full of fear. He used to scare me. He had a poker face. No expressions. No smiles. No words. He was rarely in the neighborhood. I loved his other family members, but not him.

I didn’t know where he used to go for long periods of time, until the day I heard screams.
He was killed.
He was a martyr. Shot in the heart of the battle, Down Town Beirut, in what was called: Harb el Aswaq or Battle of the Markets.

Quickly, our neighborhood became very busy. Waves of people, all in black, white ribbons on the street, on the balconies, sad faces, no laughs.
All houses were open to receive visitors. Every woman became a coffee maker. And a traffic of small traditional cups next to the coffee pots started.

I was confined in our house. No way I could go to Zouzou’s living room. “The body is on a bed in the middle of the room! Not a scene for kids.”
I didn’t get the “body” idea. But was okay not to go in, since Zouzou scares me.

Few hours later, the streets were filled with black dressed people, my mom took me up, to stay with two young girls (teenagers) living on the first floor. Directives were clear: "Take good care of Tanya girls, stay inside, don’t go to the balcony.”

We did right the opposite.

When the band started playing, with drums and trumpets, we ran outside all excited. But we quickly noticed we shouldn’t dance. Everybody was head down, sad or crying.
Suddenly we heard women lamentations. A group of “professional crying women” (called Naddabah in Arabic), paid for the occasion, came out. They used to come to funerals with the responsibility to repeat unbelievably moving sentences while crying, to help create the mood... (This tradition almost disappeared now).

Then, the real screaming and crying started. The family came out, with Zouzou sleeping on a tiny bed, his open coffin. We had the same reaction at the same time, the girls and I. We stepped back. Then, we knelt and grabbed the banister to watch without being seen.

The procession was right below us. The rice was showered from other balconies, the petals too. Then a series of barbaric gunshots started filling the air and nearly muted the music and the paid crying ladies.
We got scared, but curiosity took over, and we stayed. At a certain point, Zouzou was right below me, less than 3 meters away...and time stopped. He was asleep, waxy skin, no smile, like always, wearing white. But he had cotton in his nose and mouth...

I nearly fainted of fear, he was surely going to open his eyes and give me his weird look.

But he didn’t. This was the last time I saw him.
He became our street’s martyr, our tax of the war, he paid our due, he became a hero.
That was the official story. But everybody knew the real one, and kept the secret.
Who cares? He passed away, he became a hero, I saw him dead, and now I can live happily ever after without being afraid of him. Life goes on.

They say (a message of peace from the land of fire)

This was the song I wrote for the international non-violent day. We celebrated it at UNESCO Beirut.

The young people I work with in Melkart school were on stage singing peace and love. Sending a message of hope. A simple message but as strong as love.

You can follow the link below to watch it on Youtube:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXzd0YcunvA

True, violence is loud
True, it can bring out the croud
True, it makes the news
And true, it's all around
But it's also true, as you may know
We seek peace, and we know how
Life can be if we take time
And listen to the whispering voice
Of humanity and conscience
Just like the wind blows
When sun shines after the rain

Chorrus:

They say my land is made of fire
I tell them that it's made of love
They say it is doomed forever
I tell them not if there is love

True, Nonviolence is here
True, it speaks very clear
True, it is in the news
And true, it has achieved
But it's also true, as you may know
A lot is still yet to do
A whole lifetime is not enough
But listen to the whispering voice
Of humanity and conscience
Just like the wind blows
When sun shines after the rain...