
“Protecting” the Arabic language risks missing the entire points of languages and the modern Lebanese Identity.

A campaign to preserve Arabic in Lebanon (AFP)
First, some questions:
-Have you ever seen a Hollywood movie dubbed in Arabic?
-Did you ever solve a math problem in Arabic?
-Did you eat in an Italian restaurant where the entire menu is written in Arabic?
If you answered “no” to all of the questions above, you’re probably Lebanese. A “yes” answer on the other hand means that you could be Syrian, Egyptian, Jordanian or a holder of any other Arab nationality.
To people like Suzanne Talhouk, founder of a new Lebanese movement that seeks to preserve the Arabic language, this is a problem. Her frustrations are laid out in an Afp article entitled “in polyglot Lebanon, one language is falling behind: Arabic”
“Some of our youngsters are incapable of writing correctly in Arabic, and many university students we interviewed were not even able to recite the alphabet,” Talhouk told AFP.
To the extend that her campaign seeks to fight mediocrity, she could have a point: If you really want to speak and write proper Arabic, you have no excuse doing it half-heartedly. There is no shortage of places in Lebanon where you can learn good Arabic.
But if Ms. Talhouk seeks a government role to artificially “preserve” Arabic and frown at those who don’t speak it at home, we’ll have a problem.
Ms. Talhouk, like many who seek to protect languages all over the world (I’m looking at you France), has it backwards: It is not that people think it’s cool to speak French or English at home with their kids. It’s that they know that it will put their kids at an advantage when it comes to their education: All the centers of educational excellence in Lebanon are in English and French. Giving your children fluency at a very early age is the best way to secure them a good education.
You see, a language is not an end in itself, it’s a means to communication, education and development. If you want more people to speak Arabic, the best way is to have Arab breakthroughs in Science, technology and economics. If Facebook was invented by an Arab, “Facebook Arabic” will no longer be the insult Ms. Talhouk intended it to be.
There’s another reason why we shouldn’t lament the dilution of Arabic: The Lebanese have always had a complex relationship with their national identity. We have fought wars over which of our cultural ancestries is the dominant one, but we ended up concluding that we derive our richness from diversity itself, that we are Arabs and citizens of the world at the same time. In that context, the concept of a “mother tongue” becomes slightly obsolete.
We all know people of Lebanese ancestry who can’t speak a word of Arabic. Lebanon is a country with a huge diaspora: More people of Lebanese origin live outside of Lebanon than inside Lebanon. If they don’t speak Arabic, that doesn’t make them any less Lebanese. In an increasingly connected world, we should take pride in the fact that that we form that cliché bridge to the rest of the world.
Finally, I’ll leave you with a thought: This blog has always been about Lebanon and the Lebanese. Does the fact that it’s written in English make it any less authentic?

Mr. Hariri’s Legacy is secure. Now is the time to rethink how February 14 is celebrated every year.

Wise athletes retire at their prime. They like their fans to remember them at their peak. They dread the idea of aging, weakening and falling slowly into an arthritis-ridden oblivion. They’d rather make news, one last time, about quitting too soon.
Prime Minister Rafik Hariri (R.I.P) involuntarily retired at his prime. It remains to be seen if the yearly celebrations held to commemorate him will do the same.
Don’t get me wrong. If I were in Lebanon I would have probably turned up. I would have waived a Lebanese flag, chanted till losing my voice and returned home to a very good night sleep.
But we’re human beings. Time heals our wounds, emotions ebb and injustices fade away.
We can’t keep holding such rallies every February 14. We have to stop (the physical gathering of crowds) at some point. So why not now? We can make yesterday’s superb display the last image people remember of February 14 celebrations. We can declare the proverbial victory and announce that as of next year, the celebrations will have more local and cultural manifestations.
The movement will live on in the hearts and minds of people. Physically turning up can soon become a drag..

Hello All,
It’s been a while since I posted and apparently some spammers have taken over my “Beirut Spring” search result. (google Beirut Spring and see for yourself). I have made some changes and still no improvements.
Now I’m writing a new post, perhaps I’ll convince Google to re-index my blog by doing so. Let’s hope that works.
Meanwhile, I hope you’re all having a good day. Did you check the Better Daily Star Project? It an attempt by yours truly to nudge the Daily Star into a better website. Ironic considering the SEO problems I’m going through don’t you think :) ?

The sorry state of Lebanese activists who want to separate the state from religion.

I was checking my email this morning when I was treated to a Facebook event invitation: “The Lebanese Laïque Pride – ???????? ?? ??? ???? ???????? ?? ?????”. The Idea is simple: All you guys out there who think that Lebanon should have a secular state should come and express yourselves. It sounded like an exciting idea: Like-minded people in a collective act of civil activism hoping to effect some change, what’s not to like about that?
But then you look deeper.
The event doesn’t have a website. The organizers don’t reveal their faces. They used a weird picture to represent their cause: A Nacho salad platter. Moreover, “The meeting point and itinerary are yet to be announced”. Even the choice of the word “pride” suggests a pre-admission of defeat. It’s a way of saying “we know we are outnumbered and unpopular, but we still believe in our cause”. So many things can go wrong it’s hard to believe anyone decided to attend that rally (a rally that could easily be hijacked by flag waving partisans who can claim ownership of the event if it were a success, and deny involvement if it flopped)
In a way, that Facebook event is a perfect symbol for today’s Lebanese secularists: Anonymous, scattered, unfocused and powerless. The last time they had an ally in power, his ideas were shot down faster than you can say “Elias El Hrawi”.
No matter how much we pretend otherwise, the fact of the matter is this: Organized religion is part of the very fabric of this republic. Demonstrating against this won’t get rid of it. You can’t even legislate against it (remember, MPs are also chosen by religious affiliation).
Still, all hope is not lost. People like the Minister of Interior Ziad Baroud are working behind the scenes for the long haul. Seemingly small measures like dropping religious affiliation from the Lebanese ID card could end up having a profound impact. If the Minister of Education follows suit, future generations could very well be ready for change.

Can an outrage over women’s treatment in the law create successful single-issue politicians?

Photo by Lara Zankoul
So apparently, I can prevent my wife from traveling if I wanted to. I could abuse her, beat her and forcibly summon her to my home whenever I so demand. It seems the Lebanese penal code couldn’t care less about what I do in my own house. So i learned from reading this excellent article in the Daily Star by Josie Ensor and Dalila Mahdawi.
We knew it all along. The Lebanese rulebook is littered with laws that are obsolete, decrepit and outright anachronistic. Some of them are funny. For example, if you fall from the balcony on someone’s car, it’s your own fault. But the rest, like those relating to women, are not. They are unfair and very consequential. They split families, they break souls and they force many people to make difficult choices.
The matter got me thinking. We are supposedly a democracy, and if i’m not mistaken, we have more female voters than we have male ones. Why won’t Lebanese women vote in more sister lawmakers that would improve their lot?
I blame “electoral lists”, the set-menu system that encourages aspirant politicians to coalesce around zo3ama (Big Men) with big pockets/guns. This leaves us with a parliament where a handful of honchos set up the big-picture agenda and ignore the domestic mundane topics.
And yet the laws are so shocking I couldn’t help but wonder: Imagine a certain Lady XX deciding to run for elections. Now imagine her creating a clever ad campaign that exposes these individual laws (with real examples of their tragic consequences), with the simple promise: If you elect me, I will dedicate myself to changing these laws. It’s all I’m going to parliament to do, I will do nothing else.
Would I be too optimistic if I believe that Lebanon has enough sensible people to vote for her and get her elected?

After almost 4 months of labor, a Lebanese government is finally born. I hope that as Prime Minister Hariri said, this government would be one of performance, not of care taking. Amen to that. Here’s to seeing good results soon.

La Stampa, one of Italy’s most influential newspapers decided to run a feature called “Obama, One Year On”. Both in print and online, It published opinions from bloggers and commentators from around the world relating to the first anniversary of that historic election. I was one of those fortunate enough to be asked for a contribution. Below is my piece as it was published.

Obama. One Year on, the shame remains
One year later, I still resent how the election of president Obama made me feel about my country, Lebanon.
In a swift, blistering move , America’s first black president laid bare the primitive way in which we chose our leaders. Our President had to be a Maronite Christian, our constitution says. The Prime Minister has to be a Sunni Muslim, the Speaker a Shiia Muslim and the deputy speaker an orthodox Christian.
In that fateful day, president Obama exposed my country as a fraud. A fake melting pot…
Having many religions used to make me proud. But November 2008 made me see a different place. I saw a country where tribes coexisted in an eternal power struggle, where leaders of the various sects negotiate their power relationships. It dawned on me: Lebanon could never produce a minority president. Lebanon could never have a president Obama.
I wrote back then: “How can you not be embarrassed, watching the Obama spectacle, if you live in a country where your destiny is dictated by the God you worship and the clan you belong to? President Obama puts to shame our obsolete system that assigns a different set of laws to [Muslims and Christians]”
One year later, as I watch our elected leaders spending endless months trying to form a government, I still feel the same…

Hello, my name is Mustapha and I blog in The Beirut Spring about Lebanese society and politics. I started in February 2005 after the killing of P.M. Rafik Hariri.

