Originally published in the New Arab

Beirut has been hit by explosions before, but none quite like this.

While the blast stole the breath of everyone in the country, and even of those 200kms away in Cyprus, the footage did the same for the rest of the world. Despite numerous theories, it became abundantly clear quite quickly that only one thing could be behind this homicidal manifestation: the Lebanese government's monumental negligence.

If DJ parties in Tripoli and inflatable pools in Jounieh were symbols of Lebanon's character during the October Revolution, the rubble currently occupying large swathes of the city has turned Beirut's famous resilience into something more palpable: rage.

Originally published in MIC

Beirutis have lived through a revolution, a global pandemic, and mass currency inflation all in the past year. This burden on their backs has been romanticized as “resilience” — until a massive explosion at Beirut’s port rocked the city, killing more than 200 people and wounding thousands. That’s when resilience turned to rage.

Ever since the end of the civil war in 1990, Lebanon has been run by a small collection of political leaders. Many are former warlords. The blood on their hands was rinsed by a post-war agreement they made to not prosecute one another.

The political implosion hall of fame

For the last 30 years, this small group has simmered sectarian, religious, political, and racial tensions to grow their following and gain political power. Former Prime Minister Saad al-Hariri and the Lebanese Forces’ Samir Geagea are predominantly supported by the U.S., France, and Saudi Arabia. Meanwhile, Syria and Iran traditionally have backed Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah; Nabih Berri, Lebanon’s speaker of parliament since 1992; and Lebanese President Michel Aoun. Then there’s the Progressive Socialist Party’s Walid Jumblatt, who shifts back and forth based on convenience.