Maya Hamadeh.
Driven by a keen awareness and a desire for change, young Lebanese are speaking out. Between clarity, commitment and disappointments, a generation stands up, determined to make their voice heard. Not all are old enough to vote yet, but they observe, analyze, debate and, above all, hope.
In a country shaken by successive crises, and now caught in a war that endures, these students describe in their own words what municipal and legislative elections mean to them. For them, engaging in politics is no longer an option: it's a necessity.
At 20, Christia Slim, a third-year translation student at Saint Joseph University (USJ), watches politics attentively. Although she cannot yet vote, she perceives the urgency of understanding. Since the upheavals in Lebanon, she, like many young people, feels a deep need to understand the workings of power. "We live here. We can no longer remain indifferent."
Many around her do not vote.
"It's a shame," she said, "because every vote counts. Voting is making your opinion heard."
But she also understands the discouragement. "Some have lost hope, thinking their vote will change nothing. It's understandable." The young student bets on the youth. "It's our voice that must count. It's up to us, the new generation, to bring a breath of fresh air."
Freshness is already present in Kfardebian, where Joseph Akiki, 21, a fourth-year medical student at USJ, experienced an unprecedented electoral mobilization. Coming from an engaged family, he witnessed a momentum driven by a new generation of candidates. What struck him: the enthusiasm of the young, eager to understand the electoral process. Certainly, not all voted. He knows some who now live abroad or do not feel concerned, often because they come from families distant from politics.
"But they are a minority," he stated. "The real message is that our country is moving forward. The proof is these elections and this mobilization."
However, not everyone shares the same optimism. Hassan, a computer science student at the Lebanese American University (LAU), originally from Houla, a southern village, said: "I might have voted blank, just to experience it."
The young man, who wished to remain anonymous, sees "ineffective politics," stuck in sterile division. Marked by the recent war and the loss of his home, he doubts the local government's ability to change. "No matter who comes to power, I feel they can't, or don't want to, change things. In Lebanon, power doesn’t derive its legitimacy from what it offers in services, but rather from fear of the other, political or sectarian positions."
Yet, he believes in his generation. "We don't have the same fear of the other. Our way of thinking can change things."
This hope also shines through the testimony of Rabecca Fahed, 19, a second-year journalism student at the Holy Spirit University of Kaslik (USEK). She is interested in politics when it affects the everyday life.
"Municipal is about development. To dream of a better Lebanon, we must start small," she said.
She is still too young to vote, but she would have participated if she could. In Zeitoun-Ftouh (Kesrwan), she saw educated young candidates emerge.
"Even the previous president was very old. With Joseph Aoun, younger, there's a shift." She noted a renewed interest among young people. "We had lost hope. Now, we want change. And it starts with voting." Around her, Rabecca saw a change in attitude: all her friends went to vote.
Toni Haddad, 20, a second-year journalism student at USEK, shared the same faith in the power of voting. Through his studies, he closely follows the electoral process through reports and exchanges with observers. Despite irregularities, he noticed progress.
"Less intimidation, more legal recourse." Too young to vote, he stated he would have jumped at the chance.
"Every citizen must vote," he argued. He proudly noted the increasing involvement of young people: "Many have run, and we're finally talking about our concerns."
A new generation, bearer of hope
Abroad, Shadi Kotaish, a first-year law student at Paris Nanterre University, denounced a paralyzed politics and elections often predetermined. This year, in his village in Houla, only a single common list (Hezbollah, Amal, communists) was presented, for lack of means.
Shadi also follows other elections and, for him, change still seems distant.
"The state is paralyzed, so are the municipalities." He denounced political maneuvers: bought votes, instrumentalized elections. And yet, Shadi still believes in the power of young people's votes. "The voice of young people can really have an impact. But for that, the way elections are conducted must change, and above all, new lists must be proposed, with new faces. We must break free from traditional political dynasties."
Maya Hamadeh, 21, currently in Doha for her master's studies in journalism, saw in 2016 in her village of Gharifeh, in Chouf, the impact of the absence of a municipality.
"There were disagreements on the distribution of seats in 2016, on how to structure the municipality. Eventually, there was no agreement, so no municipality," she explained. "Trash piled up, no one managed anything."
This experience, combined with her academic and family engagement, forged her political consciousness. If she were in Lebanon, she would have voted without hesitation. For her, "our generation has things to say," and recent elections show that changes are possible.
Beyond the polls, these young people carry a new political awareness, fueled by experience, observation, and will. Not all share the same faith in institutions, but they agree on one point: without the youth, nothing will change. Through their stories, a new chapter is being written, one of a generation that refuses silence and chooses to act, step by step, to rebuild the country.
Nine years after the last municipal elections, continually postponed for countless reasons, these students are unanimous: it was time. Time to finally organize these elections. Time to move forward. Time to change the situation. Time to make way for a new generation, bearer of hope for a better Lebanon.
This article was originally published in French in L'Orient-Le Jour.
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