The unforgettable double explosion of Aug. 4 and its indelible trauma. (Credit: Carla Henoud)
Dignity is one of the most important human qualities. You can take away everything from a human being except his dignity. "Human dignity is the most fundamental ethical principle," said Kant.
And dignity has no age. A father lectures his 13-year-old son in front of his classmates. The son approaches the father and whispers in his ear: "Please, Dad, not in front of my friends, come back with me to my room and you can tell me whatever you want."
In a nursing home, during a communal meal, an old man accidentally knocks his tray over on the floor. In front of everyone, he is strongly reprimanded by a manager. Without saying anything, he heads to the window and throws himself from the 6th floor.
From childhood to old age, a person never accepts losing his dignity. It is so fundamental that it appears in the first sentence of the preamble to the 30 articles of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Similarly, for the European Union, "dignity is the first of the four universal values which are human dignity, freedom, equality and solidarity."
This is what the Lebanese citizen lost, both in the port disaster and during the breaking of the sound barrier. The parents of the victims do not have the opportunity to grieve because the state apparatus itself prevents them from doing so. The obstacles placed in front of Judge Bitar are evidence of this.
Mourning is the act by which man bears witness to what is most worthy in himself. With mourning begins the history of humanity itself. Not being able to mourn is the most terrible suffering that can be inflicted on a human being. And the state apparatus that prevents this mourning commits a crime against humanity.
Even the civil war of 1975 respected the death and mourning of the other. It was Syrian tutelage that brought indignity to Lebanon and entrenched it. For 30 years, as Lebanese leaders lost their dignity under Syrian tutelage, indignity became the rule. And it is still the rule of the leaders.
The double explosion at the port is proof of this. Four years after the fateful Aug. 4, 2020, we still do not know whether the double explosion was of criminal origin or not. Knowing the cause is essential for the parents of the 235 dead, so that they can grieve. Otherwise, those they have lost will remain like zombies, beings between life and death.
Booster shot
With the breaking of each sound barrier, it is the parents of the victims who have fear in their stomachs. They, more than their compatriots, because death accompanies them every day. The rest of the Lebanese also have this feeling of not being able to forget. Because what allows us to do so, in the case of the dead, are our funeral rites. In a large part of the world, the fortieth day after death is celebrated as a turning point. Because that is when the body begins to decompose and become a corpse. The dead truly becomes dead and no longer comes to haunt the survivors. He is now in the world of the dead, separated from the living. Wholesome forgetfulness sets in, and peace comes with it. The dead no longer comes to haunt us, we call on them when we want.
This is what those in power prevent, and it is a crime against humanity.
This article originally appeared in French in L'Orient-Le Jour.