Persiflage & Paroxysm

My father was always supportive of violent direct action to force Israeli capitulation and there is no doubt in my mind he was a fan of Wadie Haddad who headed the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine - External Operations (PFLP-EO) until his death in 1978. My father was of the view that no peace can be made with the Zionist entity, although he never had a wish to throw anyone into the sea or witness any expulsion of Jews once Arabs retook Palestine. (In those days it was a realistic goal to aim for.) The aim of direct action has always been for Palestinians to use all means at their disposal to force Israelis to recognize that they would live in constant fear unless they recognized Palestinian's claim to the land and ultimately accept living amidst a majority Arab population, in a country with an Arab name and an Arab flag. I have a sneaking suspicion that my name, Hani, a purely Arab name, was my father’s idea, no doubt because he enjoyed being called Abu Hani, which c

Five years and two months on from March 14, 2005 and the unstoppable momentum of public outrage and the mood of empowerment felt by every Lebanese on that day seems today a distant if fond memory. Every Lebanese can probably remember where they were on that day, I certainly do: I was with friends at a Dubai café and the excitement we felt had nothing to do with our allegiances or confessional loyalties. Simply put, seeing that sea of people on wide screen and feeling connected to everyone down there was euphoric. What ever happened to the Independence Intifada, the people’s revolution? In a chat with Eli Khoury, the communications guru for Independence 05 and current Chief Executive of Lebanon Renaissance Foundation, he said the blame for the movement's dimming light lies not so much on politicians' shoulders but on the upper middle class and the intelligentsia of Lebanon who shrunk from their duty to lead and help mold public opinion. The intelligentsia just lined up with the

No one is more adept at disliking their country than the Lebanese, we are skilled complainers and there is no end to what we hate about our country. We treat it like a dish of cold food served to us in a restaurant that we return with no more sentimental attachment than we feel towards a well masticated piece of gum. One interview subject on a local TV channel the other night, one of the many returning expatriates, said it quiet bluntly: she simply does not like Lebanon. But it’s not just the Lebanese; foreigners too who come for a visit or to work in Lebanon have a long list of grievances and dislikes. Now here is a group we can’t afford to upset, whether for their tourist dollars or their governments’ aid. But who can blame them, there is just so much to hate about Lebanon. The Lebanese themselves can be an insufferably arrogant bunch. Bloggers on the World Wide Web vent their anger and frustration at everything, Lebanon is a favorite target for many. One particular blog, ‘Lebanon Su

Two kilometers of underground caverns in Ksara, used by the Romans and rediscovered by the Jesuit Monks in 1857, provide ideal conditions for the aging of wines. Temperatures do not rise above 13 degrees celcius, if I remember correctly, and humidity around 80 percent. We only saw a small portion of these amazing underground caves. Remarkable.

The state of our roads is deplorable, there is nothing new in that, but drive away from greater Beirut and the coastal strip and you enter an over-grown, crumbling maze of asphalt. Sign posts are almost totally absent and when they exist they are covered by trees or bushes or so small a driver can easily miss them The drive back home after a pleasant Sunday trip to 'wine country' in the Western Bekaa was an exhausting two and a half hour trek, 45 minutes of which were spent getting lost and finding our way back to the right road. Between Al Mtein and Ras el Matn, Deir el Harf and Ras el Harf, from Falougha to Monte Verde, it is very easy to take a wrong turn and get lost. Unless you are a local then your chances of getting lost are actually very good. We met at least two vehicles whose occupants were similarly lost. The funny thing is we stopped to ask them for directions when they in fact had stopped to ask us for directions. It is important to remain cool and collected in su

This interview was conducted ten years ago and is essentially the recollections of an old fighter who took part in the struggle against the colonialist forces of Zionist imperialist oppression in Palestine in the closing days of British rule. To protect the gentleman's identity and his family's, names have been omitted and instead I only use abbreviations. Sadly, the person interviewed has since passed on. ---------- M. B., then in his late teens, was an above average student of life and grabbed every opportunity that presented itself. He was a talented classically trained violinist, the youngest of a family of eight, but above all he was a patriot. In the years before the Palestinian Nakba, or great catastrophic defeat, M. B. lived his turbulent teenage years in cosmopolitan Haifa, where urban Arabs and Jews rubbed shoulders in a bustling, dynamic port city. M. was a student of the violin, his tutor was a European Jew, his friends were a healthy mix of Arab Muslims, Arab Chris