The fabric of Lebanon’s resilience

I’ve never been to Lebanon. As with many in the United States, much of what I know about the country comes from news reports that paint Lebanon as a victim of geographic circumstance. That has been particularly true in recent months, as intense fighting between Israel and Hezbollah has displaced thousands of Lebanese people. The Dec. 16 cover story by Scott Peterson adds both geostrategic and human context to this latest round of conflict.

But before you read that dispatch, I’d like to share what else I have learned about Lebanon in recent weeks. Christiane Karam, a friend of mine who grew up in Beirut during the civil war, has just returned to that city to support her aging parents. I asked her to tell me about the Lebanon she loves. What follows is entirely in her words, though slightly edited for clarity and length, as told to me on a video call from Beirut.

“Safe” is a big word these days.

This region, or this country in particular, we can’t catch a breath.

My parents have spent the entirety of their lives surviving – overcoming and surviving. And that appears to be the case for our generation, too.

But there’s a miracle in that. There’s resilience in that, too.

We’ve been attacked and invaded and hit and bombed so many times over the years. Our entire childhood was spent in bomb shelters. I spent my entire life wanting to believe that I had somewhat overcome that trauma, and that I could find my home anywhere, and I couldn’t be too close to here because of what it triggered in me.

Now, it’s almost like I don’t want to be anywhere else.

Lebanon is a very, very special place. It’s a beautiful tapestry, but also a very fragile equilibrium. And at the same time, it’s just unspeakable strength and fortitude that the people share.

There’s a lot of very, very different people and religions and ethnicities and cultures all kind of crammed in this tiny piece of land. But there’s something very ineffable that makes us all Lebanese. Across all kinds of conflicts, there’s this beautiful sense that we all belong together – and that is the very fabric of our resilience.

I could go on and on about all the ways Lebanese people are insane and creative and resilient. I’m just so moved by the things we come up with to figure it out every single time. It’s amazing.

I’m very invested in spending as much time as I can here, caring for my family, first and foremost, but also exploring ways that I could be part of this just extreme creative resilience. This place, it’s just, it’s incredible. It’s miraculous.