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The Lebanese are plagued by a chronic disease, one that is rooted in childhood and education. The disease in question is the constant state of mourning and the expression of mourning on all occasions.
To begin with, festivities must continue, even if they are too traditional, and people should keep wishing others prosperity and success, even if the reality is different. It remains true that hope forces us to celebrate and make wishes. But if one stops and thinks for a moment about what we have done and continue to do, one will conclude that people in Lebanon and the Arab world are emotional and prone to sadness and grief on all occasions.
Chief among these symptoms is gunfire. Nowhere in the world is it stated that feelings and gunfire are correlated. Gunfire is characteristic of wars, and cannons are fired only to express grief over the loss of a king in some countries. However, in Lebanon, indiscriminate gunfire never ceased. It spans hours on New Year’s Eve, and the people responsible firmly believe that it is the expression of joy and excitement for the coming year, completely disregarding security risks and the safety of others, despite casualties in the thousands.
In addition to gunfire, people break dishes, which is a generational tradition. They engage in these activities to “dispel all evil.” It is a way for them to think of bad things positively, as some believe that spilling coffee brings good luck, although the link between the two is non-existent. Such inherited practices show that violence and negativity shape how we perceive things.
Firing guns serves to communicate the anger we feel in our hearts, and we use violence as a means to that end, as if machist and angry expression is the only way to fully show joy. It all makes sense, considering that we raise our children by singing songs to them about slaughtering pigeons. We tell them “tokborni” – which translates to “bury me in a grave” – to express the morbid love we have for them. This culture simply does not exist in other countries. Elsewhere, people release doves on New Year’s Eve, while others light candles, sing prayers and songs, or launch sky lanterns.
What does all of this mean? Scientifically and psychologically, it means that the Lebanese are in a constant state of mourning, and can only express joy through anger and sadness. This also applies to our practices: no other people wait for astrological predictions like we do. We fear that tomorrow will stab us in the back, as it has done so many times before. We might be stabbed again this year, as some events suggest. Lebanon is in a state of war in the South, there is a presidential vacuum in Baabda and discord in the Cabinet, where ministers implement laws that suit their ambitions and serve local and foreign interests.
The more we are let down, the more negative we get, and the more violent our frontlines become. All in all, this vicious cycle we are in prompts us to choose between anger and gunfire, mourning and letting go. As history has proved, middle-eastern peoples are more likely to mourn, even in times of celebration.
