When I was in Boston late last year, I got confronted with a question we all grew up with in Lebanon. “Do you see yourself as a Phoenician or an Arab?” from a very dear Taiwanese-American friend of mine. The context and setting of that ancient question was different this time though, and it made me meditate on it for a while. Here’s why:
Phoenician vs Arab in Lebanon is a Euphemism
The question of Arab vs Phoenician in Lebanon is another way of revealing one’s religious and cultural affiliation. Christians in Lebanon traditionally look towards the West, or at least away from other Arabs. Muslims in Lebanon have usually looked to the East, towards the Arab and Islamic world. So, the argument that they are Phoenician is less about genetics and more about culture. But, so is the vehement counter-argument.
No one should care that much about where their genes come from, but the strong, often immovable and irrational positions people take on either side of the aisle, is more of a declaration of one’s subscribed to ideology. Do I want to be an Arab with an Eastern mentality? Or should I insist I’m not an Arab but instead a Phoenician who is more similar to civilizations on the coasts of Europe instead of the shores of The Gulf?
Growing up in Lebanon, you know to toe that line carefully and adjust it to not seem too Christian-right or too Arab-left. But when I was asked by someone I knew was not aware of these intricacies and did not have a Lebanese sect to worry about, it rekindled a question I’ve been grappling with for years: what am I?
Misfits in the East, Misfits in the West
In staunchly Arab circles, my liberal and secular convictions seem like something the West is peddling on Arab culture to try and “destroy” it. Words like “imperialist” and phrases like “embassy dwellers” are not uncommon when you advocate for basic human rights like civil marriage or issues on gender equality.
In staunchly Western circles, the portly, bearded person people see as akin to terrorists in the East. I lost count of how many times US veterans working doorman or bouncer jobs muttered things to me in New York that were obviously islamophobic and incredibly insulting and uncalled for. No matter what, the first glance many Westerners will have of me will make one word pop up: terrorism.
But, I’m not a brainwashed Western stooge, and I am definitely not an Islamist terrorist. Here you are “too American”, there you are “too Arab”. I liked to think of those two extremes as more of a spectrum and that I and many like me lie somewhere in the middle, hopefully with the good aspects of each culture with the bad traits discarded and replaced for something we find more appropriate.
Again though, that wasn’t who I was. There were too many contradictions in that definition of self, contradictions I did not feel and couldn’t relate to.
Macho-man Circle-Jerk
Lebanese authority figures try to be progressive, pride themselves on it even. However, the patriarchal sentiments of entitlement to decide what’s right or wrong and what’s “in your best interest” or isn’t, still creep into a lot of situations and ruin them.
This can manifest itself in many ways, such as muslim religious leaders vehemently attacking civil marriage as a “tool of the West to destroy our societies” and that anyone who supports it is not a true Lebanese. It can manifest itself in a conservative christian dad who cannot accept his son is gay, and calls up his cop friend to “beat they gay out of him” for a couple of days at the police station, and the cop agreeing. Despicable as these things might be, their perpetrators sadly think they are doing the “right thing” in a way. The dad and cop are just “fixing the boy”, the muslim religious leaders are “protecting our societies from the evils of Western society” (which is basically more gender equality and less religious power).
So, this aspiration to become better and more liberal, always falls into the macho-man trap. It has become the circle-jerk we seem to be stuck in for some 4–5 decades now. The moment gains are made in civil and human rights issues, they’re undone by a patriarchal, misinformed current that calls itself “Eastern Man Mentality” (عقلية الرجل الشرقي).
Putting Conditions on Identity
All the above makes being Lebanese or Arab have conditions. You aren’t really an Arab if you don’t do this and that, or think this way or the other. This is frustrating because it encourages you to subscribe to ideologies en-bloc and discourages dissent from what most people see as the “norm”.
But one’s identity is his or her own. Why should one abide by constraints created by others long before we were ever even born? Fair questions, but usually more associated with teenage angst and confusion, not lucid reflection on one’s identity when adulthood has fully kicked in.
That’s when I decided that I didn’t really care for my Western Stooge/Arab Terrorist spectrum theory and decided to own up to my Arab identity, but also make it my own.
You’re Just As Arab or Lebanese Too
Don’t you just hate assholes that say in a debate, “well, if you don’t like Lebanon, go somewhere else!” The audacity of such a rude thing to say escapes many of us, and we just shy away and angrily say “yeah, maybe I should! But my Lebanese passport doesn’t really allow for that, so thanks dawle!”.
But, why should we? Who the hell are they to tell you to leave if you don’t like it? You’re just as Lebanese as they are, you pay the same taxes, you have the same number of votes. So, you are entitled to your own defintion of what it means to be Lebanese, and work accordingly to push that agenda, and that’s completely ok.
If someone tells you it’s not “Lebanese” to share embarrassing photos of streets and forests drowning in trash for months, but you think you should, never for a millisecond think they’re right and you’re at fault. For them, being Lebanese is hiding the bad and pretending everything is ok even when it’s not, you know, to save face and fool those stupid tourists we want to rip off. For you, being Lebanese means working tirelessly to peacefully apply pressure to fix something that is not ok in Lebanoin and that includes shaming the government who failed for 8 months to remove the garbage, failed for 18 months to elect a president but went into full crisis-mode when Saudi got pissed off at them.
Same goes for being Arab. Why the hell should Saudi decide what it means to be Arab? Or Bashar El Assad? Or Abdelfatah El Sisi? Who the hell are they to decide what it means to be Arab and what Arabs aspire to? Why should I be expected to submit and go along with their policies and wishes because they are a “sister country” and we are pro “arabism”? I don’t, and that doesn’t make me any less Arab.
I’m An Arab
I am an Arab, whether I like it or not. Everywhere I go, I’ll be identified as Arab. Too long though has that narrative been written by others. I am proud of many things about being an Arab, but also ashamed of many others. And that’s ok. I am part of a generation of Arabs that is secular, liberal, tolerant, science-oriented and hopeful. A generation that does not idolize death, but cherishes life. I’m also an Arab that enjoys offensive satirical jokes and one that has left his Christian faith years ago and embraced a happy life without god. I want a woman to be president, weed to be legal and the information ministry taken out of commission. I want to end censorship and fight corruption. I want my vote to matter and for politicians to be public servants, not rehashed warlord chieftains. I care more about individual rights than group mentality.
In other words, I’m many things people usually think Arabs should or cannot be. But, I am an Arab. Just as much as the next unlucky person born in this part of the world and forced to always choose between a rock and a hard place.
Being Arab is hard, and not just cause of the random security screenings at all airports beyond Greece to the West. It’s hard because we’ve been told for so long what an Arab should be, when all along, it’s us who decide what it means to be Arab.
My point is, whenever you are taking a stance or forming an opinion, stop thinking of yourself as a misfit. I’m not really Arab, just kinda. No, you are. Form that opinion and voice it as an Arab. A gay one? A female Arab? An atheist Arab? A feminist Arab? These “ists” should stop feeling like oxymorons when paired with “Arab”. When you feel invested in a topic, instead of just tiptoeing around it, the results are far better. And, I know most of the outcomes turn out bad for liberals in the Arab World, but, there’s always hope. We look at Syria, Libya, Egypt and shake our heads in horror and disappointment. But, we also look at Tunisia and Lebanon’s civil society and regain some hope.
So, I eventually told my dear Taiwanese-American friend that I am an Arab. Just, a different kind of Arab. Dare I say a silent majority in places like Lebanon. A less angry, more pragmatic and tolerant Arab generation slowly and steadily finding its voice amid all the howls of extremist thought trying to down them out while the West grapples to understand what’s happening.