In my part of the world, Ariel Sharon was known as the “Butcher of Beirut.” Even though his bloody legacy began to be built decades before he led the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in 1982 – through years of killing Palestinians in British-controlled Palestine prior to the Arab-Israeli War of 1948 – he will still be primarily remembered for the responsibility he bore for Beirut’s Sabra and Shatila Massacre in the Palestinian refugee camp of the same name. Continue reading “Burying the Butcher, not Burying the Hatchet”
Sometimes, I think it would be easier to just re-post my thoughts and frustrations on Lebanon, again and again, in view of the current situation. I am not inclined to write a “Beirut Yet Again and Again” after the latest explosion in Beirut’s southern suburbs on January 2, after having written “Beirut, Yet Again” (بيروت ايضا و ايضا) following the explosion in Downtown Beirut on December 27. The nature of the explosives may have differed and the location slightly shifted, yet nothing else has changed on the ground. Continue reading “Lebanon: A Gloomy Look Ahead”
الانفجار الاخيرالذي وقع في بيروت استهدف وزير المالية السابق محمد شطح, و أودى بحياة مرافقه ، الطالب محمد الشعار, واربعة مواطنين ابرياء لم تحدد هويتهم بعد. انه يوم حزين انهى سنة مضمخة بالدماء. و باستمرار العنف و الانفجارات في طراباس و الضاحية, و الاعتداءات المستمرة على الحدود اللبنانية السورية, فان سنة 2013 كانت سنة مأساوية. اخذا بالواقع اللبناني كان يمكن ان تكون اسوأ. Continue reading “بيروت , ايضا و ايضا”
Yesterday’s explosion in Beirut – killing former Finance Minister Mohammad Chatah among around seven others who remain to be identified – is a sad way to end a year already painted blood-red. With the ongoing violence and bombings in Tripoli, Dahiyeh, and the recurrent attacks on Lebanon’s border with Syria, 2013 was a tragic year, but in true Lebanese style, it could have always been much worse… Continue reading “Beirut, Yet Again”
In another of those instances of invaluable political lessons one learns along the way, there is one about the role of the army that I will never forget. The idea is that in so-called developed countries with long-established and solid democratic traditions, Continue reading “The Lebanese Army: Coming a long way and a long way left to go”
Here’s what happened in Beirut yesterday, constituting yet another sad day for Lebanon’s freedom of the press, another badge of shame on the government and another example of the public sector’s impunity when it comes to dealing with its own citizens. Continue reading “Lebanon: Another battle in the long fight against corruption”
It is difficult to stay away from writing and lamenting about bombs, death and destruction for too long when in Lebanon. And it’s all too easy to write and lament about the same old things when this happens: on how we’ve had enough of this perpetual vicious cycle of violence and how our politicians are an indestructible curse; Continue reading “On Resilience and Perpetual Violence”
There is never a good or right time to talk about Palestine. A cause, a dream, a responsibility, a defeat, a crime and a badge of shame on the world, which has affected, been used and abused, and shaped a considerable part of the Middle East’s contemporary history. As the situation in the occupied territories continues to evolve, or rather deteriorate, and with it the chances of a viable peace, keeping Palestine in the public discourse almost seems like a constant necessity to keep the cause alive. Continue reading “Thinking about Palestine”
Note: This is the second of two posts recounting Eye on the East’s recent visit to Northern Ireland. The first post can be found here.
Where does one begin to talk about the bloodshed? Where does one begin to describe the hatred? How does one begin to believe in hope? Continue reading ““How long must we sing this song”: From Belfast to Beirut”
Note: This is the first of two posts recounting Eye on the East’s recent visit to Northern Ireland. Part two can be found here.
I’m not quite sure when I first set my eyes on Ireland, but I know it has been for longer than I care to remember. And when the trip finally took place, it isn’t by surprise that I also found myself in Belfast, Northern Ireland.