The Lebanese Are "unwilling to chain themselves to a house about to be bulldozed"

Haussman Boulevards

Nasri Atallah is not impressed with Lebanese efforts to protest the destruction of old Lebanese houses:

Social media is helping organize a bit of a backlash, which is comforting. Thousands of people have joined various Facebook pages cataloguing the perpetrators of this senseless erasing of our pasts. But many are passive activists, happy to like a photo of a crumbling abode on a Facebook page and write an angry comment, yet unwilling to chain themselves to a house about to be bulldozed.

What does it say about us as a nation when there is no general moral outcry. I’ll gladly admit people have more pressing things to worry about, from sporadic electricity to political and economic instability. But what is a country without its history? What is Paris without Haussmanian boulevards? What is London without Victorian terraces?

Nasri uses “Haussmanian boulevards” (see picture) as one of his examples of things that should be preserved. Which is an irony considering that Georges-Eugène Haussman destroyed hundreds of old Paris homes so that he can lay his wide boulevard on their carcasses. This has at the time scandalized many Parisians; historian Robert Herbert criticized Haussman in language very similar to the one Nasri is using today: “The continuous destruction of physical Paris led to a destruction of social Paris as well.”

Most of you know that I think the process makes economic sense. This is why I support Haussmanian projects, and perhaps I’m not the best person to defend Nasri’s point of view. But I do support his plea to the Lebanese to put their action where their mouth is. If you strongly believe in a cause, it is not enough to click away in protest. Physically protesting has been and will always will be the essence of effective dissent.

"Lebanon's police and judiciary are complicit"

Human Rights Watch takes on the case of migrant domestic workers in Lebanon:

In a 54-page report entitled: “Without Protection: How the Lebanese Justice System Fails Migrant Domestic Workers,” the New York-based watchdog found that Lebanese authorities largely ignore violations involving domestic workers, whose legal complaints can often languish in court for more than four years.

You can read the report here, but first check out this collection of quotes by abused workers as tweeted by a reporter who was at the HRW event:

Police complicity

Police told the migrant domestic worker, after reporting her being raped: “What do you decide? Do you want to go back to Madagascar or stay in Beirut?”

Cruelty of the ‘Madame”

“Madame would slap my face, and take my head and push me into the wall”

..and the perverted “Mister

“Mister would put a porn movie on the TV and…force me to look at the movie. He said ‘you have to do the same’.”

The kind people of Lebanon should have revolted by now.

Yes The Lebanese Are Kind. But With The "Right" People.

Maria is a Mexican woman who is currently living in Beirut (She’s one of those foreign women who blog in Lebanon). She recently wrote an account of Lebanese “random acts of kindness” with her:

I am reading a book, standing by the door. The concierge approaches me and offers me to come in and seat on his chair. When I do this, he brings me a coffee. Then he leaves

I am in a taxi; the driver doesn’t have any change. He tells me I can leave, without paying (impossible scenario in NYC!). I am in another taxi, the driver asks me if I am comfortable, and whether I prefer window or AC (yeah right Boston cabs). I am out with friends, someone pays for my whole meal without me even knowing the person that well. When I offer to pay the person categorically refuses. I am in the street, waiting for a cab, next to a guy who is waiting for a cab too. A cab comes, he doesn’t take it but lets me go instead and helps me negotiate a price… I can go on.

After some cynicism, she concluded that there’s a simple explanation: The Lebanese are kind.

This is true of course. The Lebanese have what we call in Arabic Nakhwe’, which translates loosely as a combination of chivalry and generosity. Depending on your worldview, this is either a good thing (helpfulness) or a bad thing (the remnants of a macho culture). But unfortunately, Maria’s conclusion is not the complete Story.

Imagine for a second that instead of Maria (a foreign lady who can’t speak the language, who is obviously educated and “respectable”) there was a Lebanese man of a certain social class, A Filipino maid, a Syrian or Sudanese worker. Would the taxi driver really let go of the fare and ask you if you’d like air conditioning? Would the guy next to you give away his taxi ride? Not in a million years..

The Lebanese are indeed kind, but not with everyone. In fact, this got me thinking: Is there a formula in our mind with which we choose with whom to be kind? Is it Gender related? (Would a Lebanese woman in a nail salon cede her place to Maria?) Is it about being foreign (that didn’t work for the Filipinos, Sudanese and Syrians), is it the right kind of foreign? (Is Mexico right but the Philippines wrong?), or is it simply a matter of social class (We’re only kind to the well off?).

On a totally related matter: Today is the anniversary of the Sabra and Chatilla massacre, when a bunch of Lebanese slaughtered thousands of men, women and children. How’s that for kindness?