Oil and Water: The Unfortunate Reality of the Lebanese Divide

Why should I be upset about what happened when the people who have been displaced, whose country has been dismembered, whose houses have been destroyed and whose kids have been massacred, are boasting victory, and sporting Nasrallah's picture and Hezbollah's flag?

How do you deal with a people whose cause and beliefs are so deeply entrenched in their leader's mission and ideology that not death nor devastation is strong enough a deterrent to perpetual claims of victory and unwavering honor and pride?

The massive hordes moving back to the South are a loud and clear statement of how resilient and stubborn the people of the South are and have become. And while I wear my slightly fogged objectivity lenses, I cannot but admire those attributes in the face of such a humanitarian disaster.

This is not where the problem lies however. The problem lies in the victory-cost equation as perceived by different factions of the Lebanese community. I, for one, would compromise for peace. The safety and prosperity of my people is what takes precedence over anything else. Not because I am oblivious to the crimes committed around me. I do feel the pain of the Palestinian people, I see the criminality of the Israeli state and the atrocities Palestinians are subjected to every day. And if given a chance I will not hesitate one second to lend them a helping hand. I would do the same for any ailing group of people in the world. And I would most certainly be more inclined to help those with whom I have a common ancestry, common roots, and a common cultural background. But I also cannot forget that the same people I am now willing to help were ready at one point in time to bestow upon me the injustice they were subjected to, and rid me of my land to make it their own. In other words, when it came to their own interests versus mine, the unfortunate people of Palestine hesitated not for a single second to put their own lives ahead of mine and patch their plight with my own. Fighting injustice with injustice, no matter how breaking and unbearable the initial injustice was, is what I cannot forgive nor forget.

But let me go back to my initial point. In the wake of this ongoing, yet temporarily suspended conflict, I see at least two people. The people who's energy and brio is directed primarily towards fighting Israel and the Zionist plan at any cost, and protecting, in the Islamic and tribal tradition of the people of the peninsula, the pride of the Umma and its foremost religion Islam, and the people who see the brutal enemy that is Israel, and yet are willing to compromise in order to avoid devastating conflicts, and tentatively achieve peace and prosperity within their national borders.

These two political and ideological attitudes are sadly incompatible within the same community and under the same roof.

The worst part in this equation is that there is no right answer. And no matter how we approach this matter and attempt to solve it, the fundamental divide in concept and perspective within the Lebanese community as it is being dramatically affirmed by the current conflict, makes it almost impossible for me to see how common grounds of agreement will ever be reached.

And being part of the second group of people who are willing to compromise for peace, and in answer to the question I asked at the beginning of this post, yes I should and I will feel upset by the tragedies inflicted on Lebanon and the Lebanese people, because first and foremost they are suffering human beings, and also because they are my people and the bonds that tie us together are outside all conflicts and all disparate ideologies. But whether I can live with them within the same borders without eternally falling in the cycle of violence, hatred and retribution is what remains to be seen.