This Monday morning, the return to reality feels deeply depressing.
The list bringing together all the main parties — effectively negating any form of politics — came out ahead in Beirut’s municipal election.
The list claiming the legacy of the 2019 protest movement scored significantly lower than it did nine years ago. That result speaks volumes about how the country has evolved in recent years.
Above all, sectarian logic has once again reached extremely alarming proportions.
It is enough to make one wonder what still unites all Lebanese, beyond tabbouleh and Fairuz.
One year ahead of the legislative elections, touted as decisive, the news is not good.
The state of the country has deteriorated sharply in recent years. People are either livid or so exhausted that only the logic of survival still makes sense to them.
Hezbollah had long overshadowed everything else, like an elephant so large in the room that all other dynamics became secondary. The party’s weakening now reveals a Lebanon curled in on itself, frozen in time, at once foolishly pretentious and deeply afraid.
Since the beginning of the year, there had been a sense of renewal, despite the bombings and Israeli occupation, Hezbollah’s provocations and the fears sparked by sectarian clashes in Syria.
A sense was beginning to spread that Lebanon could improve in a world increasingly unstable and that the reforms launched by Nawaf Salam’s government might finally put it back on track.
But all of that will go up in smoke if those seeking change do not wake up fast. The Lebanese protest movement is in crisis. If nothing is done, its representatives risk being swept away in next spring’s vote.
Three points seem essential if there is any hope of reversing the trend by then.
The first is the importance of unity. The protest movement suffers from internal divisions, ego battles, just as fierce as those within the traditional political class, and from disorganization.
It has been three years since the MPs affiliated with the protest movement were elected, and too little has been done on that front.
On the contrary, with time, what was once called “the club of 13” (referring to the 13 MPs that were elected) appears increasingly fragmented and incapable of exerting any influence in Parliament.
There is no worse feeling than dashed hope. Nothing is more damaging than promising change while being unable to deliver any.
The protest movement MPs are few, lack resources and face powerful, well-oiled party machines backed by media networks.
But none of that changes the fact that they are primarily responsible for the movement’s loss of popularity among Lebanese voters.
Five years after the October 2019 uprising, they can no longer ride the wave of the public’s desire for change, because that desire has weakened and change itself now seems like a mirage.
The second point is the need for a project, a political and social vision that is neither a list of technocratic measures nor a string of populist slogans.
Supporters of change must convince voters that they have something real to offer beyond simply opposing the traditional parties.
If nothing changes between now and then, the level of polarization is such that the next legislative elections will likely come down to a contest between the Lebanese Forces (LF) and Hezbollah. Both parties are interested in making their rivalry the center of debate, as it allows them to rally their respective bases by fueling sectarian fears.
Aside from their visceral hostility toward each other, they have little to offer in terms of actual political programs.
But if only the others, so quick to criticize, could do better.
What are all the supporters of change waiting for to form a broad centrist bloc around President Joseph Aoun and Prime Minister Nawaf Salam, whose alliance is essential for any hope of electoral victory?
If the two heads of the executive branch work well together, they could make the divide between the “new Lebanon” and the “old Lebanon” the election’s central issue.
But again, nothing will happen without a strong, unifying project capable of reigniting the public’s desire for change.
The third point is the need to start from reality. The municipal elections should serve as a wake-up call. Traditional parties joined forces against all logic to preserve Muslim-Christian parity. Voters, too, seem to have prioritized that issue above all else.
Sectarian anxieties are real. They are not merely the product of manipulation by political parties. Christians fear disappearing, as their numbers continue to dwindle. Sunnis feel orphaned since the former Prime Minister Saad Hariri’s forced departure. Shiites fear being marginalized again after Hezbollah’s heavy defeat at the hands of Israel.
Without falling into a sectarian narrative, these fears must be addressed, so they do not drown out everything else. The Lebanese formula must be rethought in a way that defuses, as much as possible, the anxieties of all communities.
In short, reality must be transformed, but not ignored. That is the only way to avoid burying, once and for all, the hope for a different Lebanon.
This article was translated from L'Orient-Le Jour by Sahar Ghoussoub.