Mémoire du 7 mai 2008 à #Beyrouth #Liban
Line Rajab - [Disclaimer : long and sentimental post]
▻https://www.facebook.com/line.rajab/posts/10162630087105710
Disclaimer: long and sentimental post]
To those who shouted “The people want May 7 [back]” last night.
Thank you for bringing back some of my worst memories growing up (May 7-8-9 2008). On this special occasion, I’d like to share what I (and my family) personally remember from these events, as I know (for a fact) that many of my Lebanese acquaintances don’t even know/remember what this date signifies. My parents picked us up from school on the 7th of May (the school bus going in the direction of my neighbourhood was cancelled), and rushed us back home under a shower of live bullets. My parents live in Barbour, an Amal-movement dominated street in Mazraa parallel to Corniche el Mazraa, where the main confrontations in Beirut took place. I remember my parents debating whether we should spend the night sleeping in the hallway or in the toilet (we set up camp in both and ended up sleeping in the hallway for 3 consecutive nights). I remember my mother realizing that all sides (Amal & co on one hand and Future movement & co on the other) were firing bullets and RPGs, and then she went on shouting to someone over the phone: “they’re ALL armed. They’re all against us! All of them!”. The next morning, I remember being forced by my father to get up and go to school (as a sign of resistance?) only to be surrounded by the armed militias of our neighbourhood and forced to go back home. An hour later our building - as well as several others in the same street - was barricaded with burning tires, preventing us from going on the street to even buy groceries. Over the next two days, hell in the form of bombs and bullets broke loose around us, militia men were shouting from the street to the residents, threatening all those in the neighbourhood that belonged to different sects/political parties. My parents were constantly fighting, while my brother and I were just wondering when we’d be able to go to school again.
A few days later, I went back to school, carrying with me the trauma that I had experienced in the days that passed, only to realize that most of my classmates were going to class every day, not even aware of what had happened (for reference, my school is located at a 10 minute drive from my parent’s house, but on a “better” side of the city). This was a turning point in the perception of my own identity, as it was the day I realized how truly fragmented Lebanese society is. You can be living in completely different dimensions in the same miniature country (and city!). The struggle itself turned out to be spilled over different dimensions: the class/"neighbourhood" struggle and the political/"religious" struggle. I was nearly 15 in May 2008.
11 and a half years later, both my brother and I (and 5 out of my 7 cousins) live abroad and have quite a volatile sense of identity, shaped by our deeply confusing upbringing. The revolution during the past month was the first event in our lives that started breaking all the traumas associated to our lives in Lebanon. Years of struggle are giving way to a sense of unity and identity that neither me nor my brother had ever experienced before.
So to all those in power inciting their people to chant honouring some of this country’s darkest moments, and to all those in power who for years and years contributed to the fragmentation of the Lebanese status quo, I say: may everything you stand for be shattered by the people’s power. We won’t return to life as usual.
