Cortas, smart without being arrivistic

It seems I do not speak much about Cortas - last time was in 2019 (here). But Cortas has a new ad - a very smart one without sounding arrivistic or seeming like using the current problems Lebanon is facing for cheap thrills. A very dangerous road to walk I can assure you. So the ad in question goes: From the same earth, and always next to one another. And in a smaller rectangle "for 100 years". As I said, the ad is very smart, it winks at everything without stating it, lets the target audience decipher it without belittling their intelligence, and keeps the face value which is directed to the product alive and well. I could be over-analyzing here but perhaps the ad is also talking about the chickpea and the tahina sauce being together. No matter the layer/s the ad offers, it wins all of them in a smart, understated way.

How can you commemorate a war when another war is happening

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly - Fargo is the brand of the Ain el Roumaneh bus - the above is an exhibition I held for the 33rd commemoration of the war in 2015

Today is the commemoration of the official start of the 1975-1990 war. I say official because honestly the country was on a verge of eruption since time immemorial. But I digress. My problem is elsewhere: How can we commemorate the past when the present is still perpetuating it. Or to quote William Faulkner, "The past is never dead. It's not even past" - especially in a Lebanon divided on fictional and real faultlines.

And today is Easter Monday for the Orthodox Christians, so a supposedly holiday. A holiday from what I know not. And the original Ain El Roumaneh bus was according to legend, sold and eventually rotting somewhere in the south. But this is a detail, our collective memory is still alive and kicking. Our war reflexes too.
I already said this story before. but I am repeating it. The context is still too fresh.
Published October 1rst, 2013:
War is not over. It's a fact. It will never be. Today, in a slip of a tongue my mother said "in case I have to flee" - an awkward small sentence that could have gone unnoticed. But she said it, did not pay attention to it, and went on. But for me there was a sudden freeze frame. The exact word she said was "ehrob" - a word which could be interpreted as "run away", "flee", "save myself".
There she was, a woman secure financially, surrounded by her family in more ways than one, whose tasks have been brought down to a minimum which keeps her mentally and physically active without anything that might overburden her old age. And - subconsciously - she is still stuck in a loop. A loop that should have been finished since 1990 when the "Lebanese civil war" ended.
My first reflex was one of upset - where was she going to run flee? why would she?... And frankly, there was this cynic dismissal, whereas I did not articulate it, I surely thought it. But as I composed myself, I sat there thinking about it. In many ways, she is just a specimen of a generation. They're the ones who explored the Automatique cafe (Idriss) in downtown Beirut, the heyday of the supposed "Paris of the Orient" (what a fallacy!) and they are the ones who have had the dream of normalcy shattered - even if the war had been brewing for a long time under the champagne bubbles of the Phoenicia Hotel before it eventually exploded in 1975.
What struck me the most, was how similar she and I are. What I first dismissed as an outmoded reflex, soon dawned on me how ingrained it is in all of us. I was born on the onset of the war, and so this Capharnaum was all I knew. It was fun in a macabre way, but it was also the only paradigm and frame of reference. Not only this, in 2006, I got stuck in the US during the war which had erupted in my absence. A trip that was supposed to last two weeks ended up being two months long.
And it was those war reflexes that saved me. Whereas everyone around me was panicking as to these swift transitions, I was already doing mental checklists - something you have to do in times of war - organizing things so very efficiently and taking all emotional components out the equation. Naturally, it's when the anomaly of such situations subsides that you feel the full blow and when the psychological aftermath starts. But when you are still in your adrenalin rush, it all feels so peaceful, so normal dare I say.
And now I realize why my travel carry on luggage is almost set to go despite the fact that it has been a while since I traveled. In that luggage I keep - for reasons obscure to myself until now - a minimum survival kit: Anything from a good pair of jeans, to a change of shirts and socks, some cash and even a travel nail kit.
After all... What if I have to "ehrob" myself?

If we Lebanese learned anything, it's that life goes on.

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly based on the logo of the series Life Goes On

We as Lebanese have had very tough lessons - please do not say the R word (resilience). It's more like stubbornness and stupidity. But here we are, I ordered a new blazer online - and, superstition I know, my late mother told me not to wear something for the first time on a funeral, so I wore something else for our neighbor's funeral and saved the new blazer for Easter. Also the plumber just came and fixed and changed what needed to be fixing and changing. 

Why am I saying this?

Because we are in a country at war. A country with a winter that stretched long enough. In a country where news follows you even if you avoid it. In a country where little or nothing makes sense. Still, a new blazer, fixing plumbing things, going to see my ophthalmologist, doing blood tests, my glasses broke so I need a new pair, and so on and so forth, as if everything is "normal" when everything is not. But sure enough, like any entrepreneur will tell you over on Linkedin (heaven help us), there are no ideal circumstances, there is no perfect time, there is no stars aligning, you jump in and hope for the best.

That Ralph Lauren blazer - which mind you was so cool it impressed my young niece in the US when I sent her the Easter photos - was not going to wait forever especially that my size is, well, difficult (short, skinny with weird length of the arms). The clogged washbasin was not going to unclog itself. The cover of the WC which decided to crack was not fixing itself.

And so here we are, now it is raining again (insert Supertramp song here). And I am coordinating the rest of the weekly appointments. Life, you know has a tendency to go on.

Either you are on board, or you are in the way.

Anemoia - Nostalgia for a Lebanon that never existed

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly - part of the collective memory as a bridge to national identity series

I am sorry to burst the bubble, especially when everyone is hyping things up. When everyone seems to be suffering from "anemoia" - literally, a nostalgia for something that did not exist. First the fallacy: Lebanon was the Switzerland of the Middle East, or Beirut was the Paris of the Middle East. Was it correct? Yes, but barely. We got unlucky as opposed to lucky.

Beirut began as a "ville-escale" - meaning the city where planes land for 48 hours before jetting back. Not as it is known today where the whole landing-take off happens in less than an hour. To our bad luck, we had the Phoenicia, the Palm Beach hotel, the Kit Kat nightclub, the Caves du Roy, the Venus high end cabaret and the rest of the paraphernalia of entertainment. That our weather allowed to "ski and swim in the same day" only made it worse.

To be clear, the "age d'or" (golden age) of Lebanon only lasted a very short while. That we had a very stylish president and first lady (namely Kamil and Zalfa Chamoun) did not arrange anything, but I digress. So, where' my gripe?

My problem is that we are reminiscent of a Lebanon that never existed. One that no even our parents benefited from. Why? Because what is known as the golden age only benefited a very small buffer elite which was able to enjoy the benefits, leaving a middle class which was being formed, and in the words of a former Communist party commander interviewed for a documentary "I did not want to participate in the whole thing, all I wanted was a cab fair to just look at it from a distance." This alone should tell you how many people were literally marginalized and forgotten.

Also, the Shiites in Lebanon are known as "المحرومين" (the deprived) because the state never looked their way, and their own politicians/lords did not even try to help their own. In a famous (and sad anecdote) it seems people gathered their elders and went to Ahmed Al-Assaad (father of former head of the parliament Kamel Al-Assaad) to ask him for schools in the region for their regions, and he answered with "Kamel is learning on your behalf".

I am saying this today, because the fallacy we face too deep, the nostalgia for something that never existed is too strong, and the idealized version of a fairy tale is simply not true, and never was.

Exotica, Mother's Day (just don't call it a war)

Exotica just gave us this lovely ad. "My safe space" - it is supposed to be an ad for Mother's Day - interestingly it does not feature a mother but rather a grandmother with a grandchild. So basically they skipped a generation. But it is the line that makes everything in perspective "my safe place" because yes, it is the idea of a grandmother than brings safety to children, the place where there are no rules, where candies are in abundance - and so it warmth. Obviously this is a wink to the ongoing war currently in Lebanon and all the upheavals we are all experiencing - which make it a double or more when it comes to children. So yes, it is about war, and no, you don't get to say it plainly. Smart move.

Of Lebanon, Easter, Ramadan, and war.

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly

So it all happens this year, again. Our joy of common fasting (the Christian lent and the Ramadan fast are happening concurently) was short lived. Shiite families are now packed on the corniche and in downtown Beirut and whatever school yards available, war is escalating, and all this on the backdrop of people disoriented, numb and extremely tired from all the traumas that have been accumulating since 2019 back to back with no respite.

The above artwork is actually a real slogan from a war poster originally signed by the members of the Christian resistance - namely the Phalangists (Kataeb), the National Liberal Party (Ahrar), the Guardians of the Cedars (Horas el Arz), and Al Tanzim (a coalition of Christian Lebanese politicians). The slogan for all those non-Francophones goes: Do a realistic pilgrimage - this Easter visit Lebanon. The poster I have is undated but it might be late 70s judging by the logos - because the Safra massacre which saw the Phalanges fight the Ahrar as of yet for the hegemony of Christian dominance had not occurred yet..

If you ask any Lebanese, and yes Shiites included, no one wanted to be uprooted in the middle of their Ramadan fast, to go live on the Beirut corniche or in the middle of Martyrs' square or in some classroom in a closed school. And still, Easter is coming, Eid which marks the end of Ramadan is coming too, and war is here already waiting for both, and us as well. 

All of this on the backdrop of economic hardship, or a faltering economy, of 50% of people already below the poverty line and no one able to access their bank accounts since 2019. And to quote Al Moutanabi "Eid, and in what a deplorable way you came back oh Eid".

And now what do we do with all the refugees, again....

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly

And so now war is on doorstep, again (and again, and again...). If anyone remembers 2024 it is when - well, everyone - allowed the refugees to take shelter, or if not, to give them as much warmth and comfort as possible. Not to brag, but anything I could lay my hand on and I was able to donate went to a family who had to leave their house twice - funny thing is that they knew exactly what the donation was and still came with a car too small to load them (go figure!).

And still, the outpouring of sympathy was real, genuine and truly needed. Which brings us to today. And the fact there were missiles sent from Lebanon to "avenge" the death of Iranian supreme leader Khamenei. That people starting coming in drove to all other regions clogging the highways at all hours of the night is only normal. But the question is, what do we do with them now?

Everything that could be donated was already donated, people are truly struggling to make sense of the economy, the country has 50% of its population below poverty level (never mind the photos you see about people partying on Instagram, these are the exception that proves the rule), everyone is literally struggling to make a living, and now this. 

The same influx of people, the same people as a matter of fact, they will go back and knock on all the doors they already knocked on in 2024. Mind you, municipalities are issuing orders so that anyone who has housed or rented to refugees needs to basically report the name, phone number, and number of people in question to the municipality.

I suppose what happened with the Syrians almost bringing the system to a break was lesson enough for all municipalities (at this point, though, we are going back to a pre-situation where only the "men" stay here but wives and children are being brought back to Syria, I know so as too many families now went back while just the head of the household remained in Lebanon).

But the question remains the same. What do we do with those now that the bottom of the barrel has been scrapped clean. When everything that could have been donated was donated out of kindness, solidarity and altruism.

Who is the "Lebanese coalition for peace" #askingforafriend

If anyone knows who or what is the "Lebanese coalition for peace" or التجمع اللبناني للسلام please tell me. The reason I ask is because they signed a series of ads which I saved from the net as I was browsing my daily newspaper round (found those on The Guardian if you want to know). The ads are two in Arabic, two in English and try to strike 12 birds in 4 stones because they go on different angles. First the Arabic "Peace is not talk, peace is our interest... Enough wars" then "He who counts baton (hitting) is not like the one administering them. Lay off the south (of Lebanon)... Enough wars" (this is a local idiom by the way about someone watching a disaster vs someone living it). 

Then the English "It's not treason to dream of living in peace... Enough wars" and "We want to succeed here like we succeed abroad... Enough wars". Sure invoking treason is enough to cut the corner of any "dissenting" voice, now about succeeding let us ad incredibly slow internet, red tape, bureaucracy, bribes, incredibly high office space rent, just for starters. As I said, the ads play both the rational and emotional card at once, the patriotic and the anti-internal fragment at the same time, try to speak to the youth (or on their behalf), families, and elderly people wishing to remain in situ. 

Now, again booking ads and producing them requires money, so who on earth is "Lebanese coalition for peace"... Trying to ask for a friend obviously.

Lebanese resistance (Phalangists) on its 50 years of existence

Lebanese resistance - no, the other one - the one that was birthed (supposedly) by the onset of the war 50 years ago (April 13, 1975). Well, guess what they are celebrating this in the Ain el Roumaneh - Chiyah stadium with the slogan "our cause is resistance, our project is Lebanon". Well, interestingly, we have heard this from different factions standing on different sides of the fault line, but hey, it is catchy and it impresses people. The statue depicted in the ad is for the Phalangists in the Ain el Roumaneh - Chiyah (here). I am not sure, but the statue is done from empty shells, if these go back to the time of war or not is beyond me. Faint traces of the statue online indicate it was done by artist Sami Hatem.

Kafa - using tactics which make little sense

Well, that rubbed a lot of people the wrong way.

First, before anyone telling me I am being biased. There is a big difference between Labneh w Jebneh  (for reference check here) and between the ad above. The other was funny, it made you look, was very tongue-in-cheek, the Kafa ad uses tactics used by the nation bordering us on the south used to scare people prior to bombing. So using such post-colonial pseudo-terrorist ads basically fostered by - what technically is still - our enemy, is not exactly a smart move Kafa no matter the intentions (which I am sure are originally good). Sometimes, one really, really needs to read the room before issuing ads.

Small update on Facebook, the ad was eliminated and a long, long notice was put instead - which instead of simply apologizing it goes on a diatribe of justification. You know Kafa, sometimes admitting a mistake goes far enough...

My crystal ball applies only to advertising

Part of my installation "No Truce in Beirut, Only Virgins" (here)

Recently I wrote a post, "Jours tranquilles a Beyrouth" (here), and here we are right in the middle of back-to-school Lebanon is again, in the throws of war. Strangely, whenever the geopolitical situation gets testy or bleak, I have - relatively a lot of people - asking me "so, what do you think will happen?". Not sure if my infinite advertising wisdom of knowing what is inside advertisers' head however extends to politics or conflicts. Funnily, the late Andre Leon Talley - here - used to say he can see the images on the mood board of designers in the collection and know their influences, oddly, I can do the same to advertisers - my immense back catalog both in my brain and my archive can immediately spot which previous ad influenced them, but I digress. 

And now? Now no idea. The Iranian embassy was very clear (here). Revenge will happen. Was this the promised revenge - either from Hizbollah or the Iranians - I know not. All I know that we are again, very close to an all out war. The international press is all over this, each covering it from its biased angle (spare me the fair and free reporting lie). But does this influence anything on the ground? No, it does not. The field equation is separate from pundits.

Each side is now claiming the "damage was minimal" or "operation was a total success" (both sides are, as Hizbollah has caught up, if not bypassed, Israel in terms of mastering propaganda - not just to their loyal public but to the world at large). I have no possibility or clue of checking either claim - as I said, the press is covering it in a very biased way. 

Is this the beginning of an all-out regional war or is this an increase in skirmishes from both sides? Either way, I know not. My crystal ball seems to apply to advertising more than anything else.

Jours tranquilles a Beyrouth...

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly

So here we are, again.

Waiting, in Beirut once more.

The title of this post is borrowed from the book by David Hury and Nathalie Bontems (Nathalie is a lovely character if there ever one, and no I am not going to tell you about the state of the villa in Harissa. Sigh). You can still find their book here. 

I did say it before (here for example) "A long time ago (in 2008) and in an interview with a Swedish newspaper, I said "Beirut is like a snake, it needs to shed its skin periodically" - not caring who or what it hurts in the process." But at some point - and even if the myth of Beirut having been destroyed and rebuilt seven times has been debunked and is not correct - one gets tired of being in an exoskeleton.

And now it is the waiting, once more. And this, I said, prior (here).
… And the bombings over Beirut intensified, and I found myself…
Strange how some statements seem ageless and dateless, as if their only reference is simply their own being. The above could have taken place anytime between 1975 and 1990, then sporadically – yet recurrently – after that, although choosing 1996 and 2006 would give a better statistical opportunity of be dead on. Excuse the pun. It seemed the same as saying “the sun rises”, a benign statement with no implications whatsoever in the grand scheme of things, a mechanic, repetitive act – a little like sex when the initial impulse of the discovery of the other’s body has gone.

I envy those who can still play this mental game, ad infinitum. Personally, when I add everything I am going through over and above this, I feel simply tired. If this post seems like rehashing old sayings, maybe, just maybe, because we are now in the same old places and times.

And now we are commemorating the war again...

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly

In case you have been living under a rock, Lebanon is having a... challenging week (yes, again). You can go elsewhere for all the details. Suffice to say the Christian quarters seem to feel targeted again. Interestingly, what's with the engrained paranoia they have (I say they and not we as I feel un-paranoid) they are taking aim in their revenge on every moving entity that seems to be Syrian - haphazardly, without discrimination.

Kind reminder: when the Syrian forces entered Lebanon, Christians (read that Phalangists) welcomed them by throwing rice on them on the Nahr El Kalb tunnel. But memory - as with politics - is very fickle. And painting everyone with large (as in very large) brushstrokes only makes things worse. Maybe, just maybe, we should go micro rather than macro. Look at Hussam. He comes and cleans my house every fortnight. He has three kids. Works 5 different jobs to pay his rent, send his children to school, and put food on the table. When Easter came about 2 weeks ago he sent me a whatsapp greeting along with - not an Easter bunny photo or anything - but a proper Religious imagery (note that he was fasting for Ramadan at the time!).

And yet here we are again. Stereotyping and putting everything and everyone under a large parasol - neither Hussam nor Ibtissam (whom I met as a lovely vendor in a store) nor Manar were the perpetrators of the tragic events that occurred in Lebanon recently (with all my respect for the late Pascal Suleiman and my understanding that his abduction and killing were indeed very unacceptable). 

And now what? Are we still on the Ain El Roumaneh bus? Are we still passengers in that journey to nowhere? Did we not learn anything? I have a deep feeling we did not. And of course, economic issues do nothing but exacerbate this - in times of political and economic downturns people turn to what they know. And tribalism in all its shapes is what Lebanese know.

Above, in the imagery is the license plate of the Fargo Ain El Roumaneh bus which ignited - or rather was the final straw that ignited - the war in Lebanon on April 13, 1975. I do hope we are wiser at this point because certainly we are older.

2023 was exceptionally triggering for me

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly from the series "Visit Palestines"

In case you are not aware, I am literally a war child. I was born 6 months before the beginning of the 1975-90 was in Lebanon. Growing up, I never knew anything that was not war. Mind you, one of the things people do not understand, is that your parents were experiencing war live with you - nothing prepared them for this. So basically, I also came from a family that was suffering from war. Sure these are things you understand as you grow older and you have no idea what they mean as they happen on day-to-day basis. I remember that my parents had to have Tranxene 5(mg) even before bread. And no, I am not digressing. 

The problem is that what happened in Palestine in 2023 was a major trigger for me. All the images which were coming from social media - and even though I just follow a few people on Instagram and have no Tiktok, the people I do follow are as opinionated as I am. Naturally, considering I read and analyze all day long, I kept seeing a flood of news about the region.

If you still cannot put two and two together, let me make it easier for you - all the war trauma went back to the surface as I saw and watched what was happening there. All those shelter days, and bombardment days, and explosions, and newsflashes, and everything else. All came back in a condensed package through my mind. Sure, I am tough, always have been (even if there were bouts of depression at times), but seeing all this made the past more visible, more naked, more urgent.

And believe you me, trauma does not leave you. It may hide, but it never leaves.

So whereas anyone who knows me expected me to be more vocal about what happened in Palestine, the issue was that I was dealing with the war backlog - in addition to the other problems and things that 2023 (which was not kind to many many people!) has presented me with.

So voila, there was just too much on my (mental) plate, all while knowing where I stood.

So, is Lebanon at war or not?

This is a legitimate question: Is Lebanon at war or not? And I ask as objectively as possible and in the most unbiased tones. Exhibit A: Al Mashrek Insurance is advertising its "War risk insurance" for motor and property. I mean, if someone is paying for such an ad, either they are on to something or they know something I don't. Because exhibit B: A parallel campaign is running "Lebanon does not want war" (side question: who is financing this? from what money? what for? why is it not signed?). So at this point, it's like living in two countries - one at war, one not. If anyone has a clear answer please be kind and give it to me because I lead a very complicated life without adding such a conundrum to it. 

Life goes on, no, not the TV show.

So life goes on.

Yesterday was a full day - I made an extension to the solar panels (considering am off the grid, please see here). Also with the state electricity as erratic and non-existent as ever, and with the solar panel industry in Lebanon still picking up speed (here) and with communal generators being obnoxiously expensive, there seems to be very little options left. 

A family I know uses generator as a back up to the solar panels, meaning they use it just to fill the batteries from time to time. No matter, if I am saying "Life goes on" it is because really, I am not going to wait for the developments of the region to settle down for me to keep my things happening. Actually I was asked why do it now? Why not wait and see where the "wind blows"? my answer was "what if I keep waiting and waiting and nothing happens, winter will come soon and I need to have energy to warm the house and all that". 

Which bring us to the TV show "Life goes on" - LBC, a great show built around Corky (portrayed by actor Chris Burke) who had Down's Syndrome and his family (note that Burke had Down's Syndrome too). The only other time where "Wind Beneath My Wings" was sung to full-effect apart from the - debatable - movie "Beaches". Please do see about the show here. 

But again, these are some of the things you learn from having experienced war. You just go with life and live it. I once wrote in a poem something to the effect of "I saved something for later, but later never came to pick it up". And so here we are, solar panels doubled in the hope of bringing more energy into the house.

Of life, carpets, cardigans and wars

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly

On November 10, 2015, I published the following:

This year, we put the winter carpets early on with early November already being so rainy and cold where I am - hint: not Beirut - but back when times were more defined in terms of four seasons, there was a local expression which went "al sajjad min isteklal la chouhada" - the carpets from independence till martyrs. Independence day falls on November 22nd and Martyrs day on May 6th. Both were at the time national holidays which allowed women (and men) of the house to do the whole brouhaha associated with putting on the carpets and taking them off (which is very time and labor consuming mind you).

Well, this year, the cold came ever earlier, which is why today - was carpets day. Thankfully someone helped me with the whole load. Yes, yes, I am aware that this blog is mostly about talking about advertising and communication - and there is a new campaign on the street which, at best, is idiotic and I do not feel like talking about it (hint: It is a public health campaign, and yes, I ran it by three other people and "idiotic" was the kindest remark being said).

Which brings us to today and carpets.

And yes, the world is ablaze, thank you for reminding me. I am aware of it. Even if not in the daily grind of Beirut, I can still feel how convoluted everything is. But also, life is life. What I mean by that is simply that well - there's always daily chores to be done, and cooking, and cleaning, and heck - in the tumult of all of this - I managed to buy mother a winter cardigan and if you think this is simple, please try again.

Several years back frustrated from mending her cardigan - daily - I went on to find a replacement - the first was too tight (mother is minuscule but even size large - in men's! - was too tight for her liking), the second was not thick enough, the third was not of the color palette she would wear. So I went to the market and in one day, I visited 20 shops in the same day and in the middle of Burj Hammoud I found what I was looking for - color was correct, thickness was correct but it was not XL. It was obvious I was deflated, so the man suggested he'd go up to his shop's attic to see what could be done. And bingo, he manifested exactly the cardigan in XL.

So a few days back, as I was scrolling on instagram, a cardigan came my way on one of those resale sites. I knew it was it. And voila, mother fell in love when it was delivered yesterday (mind you she was not aware I was bring here a replacement to the aforementioned garment). Again, if you read above you'll discover it was really something like stars aligning for this to happen.

So there:

Carpets - done.

Winter cardigan - done.

Worrying about the war - also done but life is what it is.

So we march on bravely.

String beans, canned tuna, and other war traumas

From the series "Los Desastres de la Guerra" by Tarek Chemaly

I think I said this anecdote prior in my blog but heaven help me I know not where. Not far from my house (I live in a village mind you), are three shops. All operated and owned by families, so basically, the welcoming is always warm, and the people friendly and there is almost no difference in pricing. So when my mother asked me why I chose to be a patron of one of the specific stores, my answer was "because it faces the sun". Which is as idiosyncratic as they come in terms of answers.

But here's the logic - shops that are away from the sun are damp. Dampness reminds me of the shelter. Shelter is synonymous to war. And war is an open trauma.

Last year I was having a talk with my brother, and he said that it is impossible for him to have canned tuna. In case you did not know, canned products - tuna or luncheon meat or spread cheese were staples in shelter menus. Which reminds me of why I dislike string beans.

The Lebanese war has caused thousands upon thousands of people to be displaced. Many lost homes permanently, so one day - the year is vague to me but it must be early to mid-eighties - a knock came on our door. Do note, we lived on the 7th floor of a building. The knocker was a very old lady. In dirty rags, unclean hair, and obviously homeless. She asked for food and mother gave her string beans in Arab bread (like pita bread but larger). The woman sat on the stairs between the two floors and began eating her food by hand. I am not sure why I had to go out of the house and use the stairs but that image is etched in my memory (I think there was one of those ubiquitous power cuts and I had to use the stairs to go down as the elevator was not working). Which brings us to me avoiding string beans when possible.

Below is a post that dates back to 2013. Strange how much it still resonates today.

Originally published on October 1, 2013:

War is not over. It's a fact. It will never be. Today, in a slip of a tongue my mother said "in case I have to flee" - an awkward small sentence that could have gone unnoticed. But she said it, did not pay attention to it, and went on. But for me there was a sudden freeze frame. The exact word she said was "ehrob" - a word which could be interpreted as "run away", "flee", "save myself".
There she was, a woman secure financially, surrounded by her family in more ways than one, whose tasks have been brought down to a minimum which keeps her mentally and physically active without anything that might overburden her old age. And - subconsciously - she is still stuck in a loop. A loop that should have been finished since 1990 when the "Lebanese civil war" ended.
My first reflex was one of upset - where was she going to run flee? why would she?... And frankly, there was this cynic dismissal, whereas I did not articulate it, I surely thought it. But as I composed myself, I sat there thinking about it. In many ways, she is just a specimen of a generation. They're the ones who explored the Automatique cafe (Idriss) in downtown Beirut, the heyday of the supposed "Paris of the Orient" (what a fallacy!) and they are the ones who have had the dream of normalcy shattered - even if the war had been brewing for a long time under the champagne bubbles of the Phoenicia Hotel before it eventually exploded in 1975.
What struck me the most, was how similar she and I are. What I first dismissed as an outmoded reflex, soon dawned on me how ingrained it is in all of us. I was born on the onset of the war, and so this Capharnaum was all I knew. It was fun in a macabre way, but it was also the only paradigm and frame of reference. Not only this, in 2006, I got stuck in the US during the war which had erupted in my absence. A trip that was supposed to last two weeks ended up being two months long. Add to this that for different reasons - in 2003 and 2010 - I had to change residence twice in record time (once moving from one country to another and another time from one city to another).
And it was those war reflexes that saved me. Whereas everyone around me was panicking as to these swift transitions, I was already doing mental checklists - something you have to do in times of war - organizing things so very efficiently and taking all emotional components out the equation. Naturally, the full blow strikes you where the anomaly of such situations subsides, and this is when the psychological aftermath starts. But when you are still in your adrenalin rush, it all feels so peaceful, so normal dare I say.
And now I realize why my travel carry on luggage is almost set to go despite the fact that it has been a while since I traveled. In that luggage I keep - for reasons obscure to myself until now - a minimum survival kit: Anything from a good pair of jeans, to a change of shirts and socks, some cash and even a travel nail kit.
After all... What if I have to "ehrob" myself?

Lebanon: So what happens when all securities turned out to be false?

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly

Trust me you do not want to grow up in a war. Surrounded by people trying to make it through themselves while also trying to raise you. And a school system lost between the past and the environment it is in, and little or not guidance to why such and such teacher was reacting this way to your presence.

War never ends. It carries on like a trauma - especially if unhealed and not talked about and (oddly) glamorized and fetishized in the collective (un)conscience. Honestly if I ever hear "rizkallah 3a eyem el 7arb" (loosely translated as "may God bring back the time of war") one more time, I am literally going to blow up.

Now if you ever grew up in a time of war, the first you will look for is security.

You want security at all costs through whatever outlet, you're ready to pay the highest price for it, even if means sacrificing your own security in the process. 

No, no, this is not philosophy. 

You are ready to give, love, and care so much to hang on to anything or anyone who gives you security (or more specifically, who "in your own mind" gives you security) so you end up ditching your own mental and emotional security in the process.

Living in Lebanon right now, especially that I am smack from the war generation, is having all your security networks crumble. Remember "that's incredible!" TV show? Of course you don't - but they had these stunts where trapeze artists would perform all these stunning acts (wait for it) "without safety net".

Everyday living here feels so. I know what you are going to say - "Tarek, everyone in the whole world lives this way". No, the difference is that a lot of other people have pensions to look forward to, have Floridas to move to, have firm structures in place and stable pointers and debatable laws to abide by.

I know of people (unsurprisingly outside Lebanon) preparing for trips, and moving houses, while even others working on career moves or marriages - hey, I even know people divorcing.

You really have no idea what it is to drift - daily. 

It is not a coincidence that "religious practice/beliefs" are on the rise during such times. People go back to what they know - or what makes them feel safe. Studies have proven that Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and religious practice are interlinked (note that repetitive gestures, the shielding one's self from the unknown) and of course, the rise in the belief of conspiracy theories.

As an aside, funnily (or sadly?), a few days ago Lebanon elected its Miss after 4 years of absence and the winner was a certain Yasmina Zaytoun. Also Wael Arakji was named MVP in the FIBA basketball tournament. Whereas Mr. Arakji was very gracious dedicating the whole team's play to Lebanon at large (going as far to tell the Prime Minister to shut up and that the PM's congratulations were not needed nor welcome), many voices on Twitter were adamant that this was "a good day for the Sunnite sect" (both Arakji and Zaytoun are Sunni Muslims).

However, truth be told, on the ground, at this point all fictional elements resembling stability have been erased from Lebanon. I am not going to repeat them (the money, the food, the fuel, you name it and it is a guessing game) but every day brings its own question mark. Lately it was about the lack of bread, which again, triggers memories of blockade in the Eastern region of Beirut in 1989 where neighbors ended up baking bread on an open-oven and sold me a pack reluctantly because the bread was supposed to go to the militia controlling the area.

Paradoxically, when you know all the security that you have been seeking elsewhere is - either you paid too high of a price for it, or is too fleeting, or too meaningless in retrospect - you go back to the drawing board. 

And try to find the security you wish for, within.

Elections 2022: No one is talking about the war in their ads, therefore everyone is.

Toy Soldiers - artwork by Tarek Chemaly

These elections, everyone is not talking about war in their ads, therefore everyone is.

What? No, no, am serious.

In 2018 I voted the Kataeb ad "your ballot is a legal weapon" as the worst ad for a political party. I still think it is. But this post is about something else. Note this was not their first toe-dipping in the weapon-winking ad (please see here). 

But make no mistake, everyone is not talking about war. Directly. So everyone is.

It all happens in hints, in xenophobic terms, in making people distrust one another, in making people remember their previous schisms, in simply dog whistling familiar themes about "the other" (interestingly, due to the haphazard alignment of political parties - meaning they might be allies in region A but against each other in region B - the dog-whistling is therefore territorially based).

But still, you can feel that when a candidate (in this case Farid Boustani, but could have been anyone else) saying "I am an extremist for inter-faith living in the jabal" (here), and whereas the message is actually positive, it is a reminder about the war that happened between the PSP (Progressive Socialist Party) - or the Druze - and the Lebanese Forces - or the Maronites.

Nothing too overt, nothing too obvious, but it is there.

Look at this Beirut second district "Beyrouth touwajeh" ad (here). No direct naming, not in-your-face aggression, but the hatred is all there. And yes, May 7 was a day of war of some sort. A more recent war, but a war nonetheless. 

Once more, the whole media landscape related to elections is littered with nostalgic (and most likely not true) references to days gone by (which again - may not have existed). Take Fares Souaid and his - OK, "classic" - tweet addressed to Cheikh Naim Qassem (second in command at the Hizbollah) about our beaches being filled with "top less" [sic] (women). Really? Let me be honest, the amount of women who go/went topless (or top less as he called them) on Lebanese beaches (and that includes the pre-war St. Georges and Phoenicia - which to the lament of Souaid fell in what was "West Beirut" during the war) is/was infinitely minimal. If I am to extrapolate and include Portemilio or Rimal or Aquamarina (on the "East Beirut" part), which were all family-oriented, the number barely increases.

"Top Less" is somewhere between hallucination and fallacy. 

All these examples, as I said, contain nothing directly related to the "war" as such, but they allude to a past that never was. Interestingly, the Lebanese population never really dealt with the trauma of war, so it is easy to awaken such trauma.

Below is an article I wrote in October 2013. About the "fight or flight" reaction related to the war.

Sadly it is still valid today.

The election ads are a proof.

Published October 1rst, 2013:
War is not over. It's a fact. It will never be. Today, in a slip of a tongue my mother said "in case I have to flee" - an awkward small sentence that could have gone unnoticed. But she said it, did not pay attention to it, and went on. But for me there was a sudden freeze frame. The exact word she said was "ehrob" - a word which could be interpreted as "run away", "flee", "save myself".

There she was, a woman secure financially, surrounded by her family in more ways than one, whose tasks have been brought down to a minimum which keeps her mentally and physically active without anything that might overburden her old age. And - subconsciously - she is still stuck in a loop. A loop that should have been finished since 1990 when the "Lebanese civil war" ended.
My first reflex was one of upset - where was she going to run flee? why would she?... And frankly, there was this cynic dismissal, whereas I did not articulate it, I surely thought it. But as I composed myself, I sat there thinking about it. In many ways, she is just a specimen of a generation. They're the ones who explored the Automatique cafe (Idriss) in downtown Beirut, the heyday of the supposed "Paris of the Orient" (what a fallacy!) and they are the ones who have had the dream of normalcy shattered - even if the war had been brewing for a long time under the champagne bubbles of the Phoenicia Hotel before it eventually exploded in 1975.
What struck me the most, was how similar she and I are. What I first dismissed as an outmoded reflex, soon dawned on me how ingrained it is in all of us. I was born on the onset of the war, and so this Capharnaum was all I knew. It was fun in a macabre way, but it was also the only paradigm and frame of reference. Not only this, in 2006, I got stuck in the US during the war which had erupted in my absence. A trip that was supposed to last two weeks ended up being two months long. 
And it was those war reflexes that saved me. Whereas everyone around me was panicking as to these swift transitions, I was already doing mental checklists - something you have to do in times of war - organizing things so very efficiently and taking all emotional components out the equation. Naturally, it's when the anomaly of such situations subsides that you feel the full blow and when the psychological aftermath starts. But when you are still in your adrenalin rush, it all feels so peaceful, so normal dare I say.
And now I realize why my travel carry on luggage is almost set to go despite the fact that it has been a while since I traveled. In that luggage I keep - for reasons obscure to myself until now - a minimum survival kit: Anything from a good pair of jeans, to a change of shirts and socks, some cash and even a travel nail kit.
After all... What if I have to "ehrob" myself?