I would have loved to kiss you in that elevator, that day, so long ago. You didn’t do it. You might have slapped me. It was a risk, you should have taken it. He is no longer of this world. She will soon be gone. What remains is the idea of that kiss neither given nor taken, forever suspended in limbo. This "infinite moment that sounds like a bee," as Cyrano would say, slipped away. It had neither follow-up nor consequences.
Initiated in 2016 by the Institut Français, the Night of Ideas, celebrated in more than 100 countries across five continents, invited reflection this year on the theme “Power to Act.” The ambiguity of these two potential verbs, which, when juxtaposed, become two heavy and static nouns, two rocks leaning against one another, incapable of rolling. Without the capacity to act, power is a mere facade. Conversely, action without power – even the power to seduce – is doomed to failure. More than a theme of reflection, this title of the grand francophone oral exam in May is a puzzle. It invited us to seek out the gears through which these two concepts fit together to create a functional mechanism. The political dimension is obvious and the ethics clearly implied: those who do nothing never err, and those who act expose themselves … to the slap.
To act, and to have power or not, that is the debate. The great danger lies in assessing chances: believing one can, and acting under this illusion. We saw Hezbollah's actions in its war of support for Gaza – understood as for Hamas. At least that was its stated intention, the other being to dive into this furnace to improve Iran's chances in its negotiations with the United States. The result was disastrous, as neither Hezbollah nor Hamas had the means for their war against Israel, both erring by excess of confidence. There are situations requiring more subtlety than a spirit of vengeance and other actions than the game of war.
It is at the level of its citizens that Lebanon's power signifies something. To act, as a Lebanese, is to take risks. It is to undertake to provide work. That’s where action, through the tenacity of one, generates power. But a Lebanese is never really alone, and that is where their strength lies. Whether they launch in Paris, London, or Lagos, they always have a family, a clan to support them, and the success of their action becomes the success of a community.
To act without power, and especially in the shadow of an absent power, is what Lebanese people have done throughout the chain of trials they have suffered in recent years. The protests of 2019, the weariness expressed against a political class bogged down in ignorance and the repetition of an obsolete and corrupt model, this famous "thawra" seemingly aborted, but left an imprint. There it is, beginning to bear fruit. In the wake of the explosion at the port on Aug. 4, 2020, the whole world watched the admirable solidarity that sent an entire people into the devastated streets to repair, heal, and help. This action restored the self-image that Lebanese people had of themselves, divided, shattered before the explosion. Under the bombs of the last Israeli war, a young woman alone, joined by some friends, created and organized a shelter for hundreds of foreign workers abandoned by the families that employed them and who had fled, leaving them to their fate.
Before that, the generation that had grown up during the 15-year Civil War sank into hopelessness. Not without having tried everything: fleeing from one city to another, emigration, studying without means, small businesses doomed to failure, hope in all its forms, before succumbing to the cruelty of the Assad regime, whose tutelage became omnipresent, and accepting silence for stability.
In the shadow of this false security, a generation of cherished children arrived, born with the awareness of having rights to which their parents had renounced for themselves, convinced as they were of the impossibility of changing the state of things. These children saw, because their gaze was new, that the kings were naked. Armed with this truth from which they drew their almost magical power, they acted and were followed. They gave that kiss to life, to their compatriots, and the future. The new chapter opening for Lebanon owes much to the sum of all constructive actions, all the tenacity accumulated to deserve change. The existing power reflects this.
This article was originally published in French in L'Orient-Le Jour.