theatlantic.com – Fadlo R. Khuri — Ten or even 20 years ago, the protests unfolding in Lebanon would have led news bulletins around the world—what is more compelling than large portions of the population of this small, schismatic, but strategic state united in optimism, standing together peacefully to overthrow decades of a dead-handed, morally bankrupt, sectarian kleptocracy? In a matter of days, the exasperated Lebanese protesters, waving the cedar flag that once symbolized our divisions, have declared an end to the Taif Agreement that enshrined confessional rule in 1989. The Lebanese Civil War finally ended on October 17, 2019. The sectarian mind-set did not disappear in the plumes of black smoke from burning tires. But if the populace has turned away from a national accord that reinforced sectarian divisions, its instigators and beneficiaries—the nation’s cynical, venal, and in some cases irredeemable political leaders—continue to assert their own personal interests, with varying degrees of skill and guile. There are few, if any, heroes or citizen leaders among these gray men. After all, they all know in their hearts that the destiny of the hero is martyrdom.
And there are certainly no willing martyrs among Lebanon’s political and military leaders. No George Washingtons, Abraham Lincolns, Charles De Gaulles, George Marshalls, Nelson Mandelas, or Mahatma Gandhis. Nor is there even a Fuad Chehab, a Rachid Karami, or a Kamal Jumblatt, to name three of Lebanon’s more far-sighted leaders of the past 70 years, two of them martyrs in a real sense. No, this is the era for gray, ambitious, vindictive men who have long paraded their faults on the Lebanese political stage, in the same manner as other populist leaders around the world, including those now occupying some of the globe’s most powerful political positions. As the president of the American University of Beirut, I have watched these protests unfold with a mixture of hope and trepidation. The protesters in Beirut, in Tripoli, in Tyre, in Sidon, in Nabatiya—who include a large proportion of our own students, faculty, and staff—must stay united to overcome the poisonous example set by Lebanon’s political leaders. Now in the second week of the protests, ambition and ego are starting to surface in an unfortunate but not unexpected way. Lebanon’s political and security leaders would like to have their battles fought for them by others. They all want someone else to eliminate their competition, allowing them to claim neutrality and good intentions. That is why we need to help steer our students, faculty, and staff away from such traps.
