The Haters Club

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 Sucks’ claims 37 percent (of not sure who or how many) agree that Lebanon sucks. A favorite targets for bloggers is the embarrassingly slow and expensive internet in Lebanon. Other favorite targets include the power sector, traffic jams, pollution and traffic cops.

It’s not all bellyaching. The Angry Arab News Service, for example, makes a very valid point: “…what bothers me about the Lebanese national idea is this obsession with pleasing and appeasing the White Man, and the need to prove one’s credentials as a ‘misplaced European in the dessert’.” It is clear Angry Arab is talking about Lebanese Christians and the illusory idea many among them cling to that somehow western powers care what happens to them and will come to their rescue should they come under attack.

On another blog, ‘In Lebanon: Hating Lebanon,’ the author writes: “You're not Lebanese unless you hate Lebanon…” He goes on to say: “The problem with Lebanon is that it is infuriating. You can have a good time, but someone is always there to ruin the party. Wages are horrendous. There (are no) jobs. Sexual repression makes you explode with rage because (there are) few other places in the world so outwardly sexual. The vast majority of people under 30 want to leave, and the ones who can often do.”

If you search online you will even find a top five listing of things one can hate about Lebanon. Here is one I stumbled across (I paraphrase but you get the picture):

5-No human rights for migrant workers
4-Poor infrastructure: too many cars too narrow roads
3-Prostitution networks
2-The uncertainty of not knowing when the next war will start
1-The Lebanese mentality: consumerism, snobbery, pig-headed youth, a culture of showing off and an obsession with plastic surgery.

The bottom line is, much of what we dislike about our country we can help fix. It’s good to point out what’s wrong, but useless without the resolve to start working to fix it. Sadly what we need is something akin to revolution, an attitude adjustment, pressing the cultural and political reset buttons, wiping the slate clean and starting from scratch. Simply patching things up will not work anymore.

How does one accomplish this you may well ask? We start with ourselves, by changing everything in us that we hate in other people. But that is not so easily accomplished. For example, when you are cut off on the road or when you know the driver in front of you is deriving pleasure from forcing you to drive behind him at a snail's pace, it's hard not to react. But therein lies the problem, we always react rather than act.

We accept all the bullshit thrust in our face provided it does not affect us too much, but once it does we explode in a tirade, wasting energy and accomplishing nothing in the process. We should instead look for ways to be more proactive and more involved in our country's affairs, in holding our leaders accountable.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Orosdi-Back: A lost Beyrouth department store from an elegant age

A Reluctant Resistance: Will They, Won't They Strike, Who Knows

Palestine's 100 Years War: How Our Militant Past Predicts Our Future