The Lebanese army has reportedly received weapons under two grants by Saudi Arabia that are below the standards. According to An …

khazen.org  offers its deepest condolences to the family of Yves Nawfal. We demand justice to be served immediately and deliver the criminals …

By David Kenner

David Kenner is the Middle East editor for Foreign Policy

BEIRUT On Saturday night, Taha al-Khayal and Bilal al-Mariyan approached the Omran Café in the Lebanese city of Tripoli’s Jabal Mohsen district and blew themselves up. Khayal detonated his explosives inside the café. Mariyan arrived a few minutes later, apparently planning to target the crowd gathering around the site of the attack. Issa Khaddour, a resident of the neighborhood and father of seven, saw Mariyan approaching and tackled him, saving the lives of many but losing his own.

 The twin suicide bombings were overshadowed by the fallout from the Charlie Hebdo killings, but their nine victims were no less innocent than the slain citizens in Paris. While the al Qaeda-affiliated al-Nusra Front militant group claimed responsibility for the attack, Lebanese Interior Minister Nohad Machnouk said that initial information suggested that it was the work of the Islamic State. Whatever the case, the attack marked the worst violence in Lebanon since the army clashed with Islamist militants in Tripoli in October, and renewed fears that the Syrian conflict was spilling over into the country.

By Molly Hennessy-Fiske

I's well after 1 a.m. at Walkman, a new 1980s-themed bar off busy Hamra Street, and the liquor is still flowing, dance floor lights still flashing, girls in tight jeans and leopard-print tops still jumping to the remixed chorus of a far more contemporary song by the Swedish DJ Avicii, "Wake me up when it's all over."

"We want to escape from society and politics," said Mike Kaspian, 22, who works at a fabric store and was practically pulsing with energy. "So we are having fun!"

Kaspian sports a shaved head, wide grin and blue V-neck T-shirt that exposes the tribal tattoo ringing his right bicep. Tonight, he and his friends were not worrying about the ongoing unrest in neighboring Iraq and Syria, embattled Lebanese cities to the north or the spate of car bombs in town last year.

They had been doing shots of ouzo. And tequila. Maybe later they would peruse the drinks menu displayed in 1980s VHS cases — "Police Academy II," "Rambo III," "Pumping Iron" — and try some of the house specials: the Dirty Harry, Chuck Norris and Ghostbusters.