Virtue is a rare thing in the world of politics. I say this in a spirit of friendship, not of condemnation. And so we must ask: is it possible for Lebanon to rise from this abyss into which we have led ourselves? I believe it is. Our country endures in the eyes of those who have kept a vigil of love for her, and she stands, in her most profound beauty, upon hope. For is hope not the greatest force that compels us toward the renewal of life?
I would never violate the freedom of any soul. I know that the number of those who can no longer bear to live in this country is greater today than ever before. I do not pretend to know what lies in their hearts. What I do know is that a human being is a creature both free and bound. No person on earth lives only in their country; their country also lives in them. Go wherever you wish, leave behind whatever you will, there remains a faithful friend you can never cast out from within you. We are of this land, or a part of it; it makes no difference.
This nation, as is plain for all to see, is now composed of many elements that do not know how to walk together on the path of our recovery. I am not projecting onto us something that is not there. We are a country where, by the nature of our components, a new element can arise that refuses to accept the others. It does not merely reject them; it anathematizes them, declares them an enemy, and seeks their very annihilation.
Yes, I have a great fear of bloodshed in Lebanon. I know that the machinery of war is not, today, in the hands of every Lebanese citizen. But with a single decision, made by someone, somewhere on this earth (you remember the "war of 'others' on our land!"), it can be. Lebanon, this country where there is still such ample room for hatred, its public squares still seething. It remains, to this very hour, a fertile land for the spilling of blood.
I am not here to preach of an encroaching, inescapable darkness. I do not claim the gift of prophecy. All that stands before me is a history saturated with blood, and I say to myself each day: "You would be a fool not to learn from it."
Let us confess. We cannot build a new Lebanon if we do not see what is precious in the other. Nations are not built by erasing those who are different from us, whether in religion, in sect, in politics, or in anything else. We must admit, first to ourselves and then before God and all people, that our great sin in this nation is that each one of us is inclined to affirm only himself. We do not just listen only to our own voice; we are concerned with almost nothing else. We have become tribes who seem to know only how to clash, how to view those who differ from us as entirely barren, useless for the present or the future.
But I do not wish to dwell on the sickness; I long to hope for the cure. What is the virtue that can heal us in our present state? I have already mentioned it. If there is to be any place for virtue in the building of Lebanon, we must begin by acknowledging the other as a unique person without whom we cannot truly live. This means understanding, in our very bones, that Lebanon is its people. The artistic heritage of Lebanon is filled with poems that sing of its sky, its earth, its mountains, and its sea. These poems are beautiful. But Lebanon is its people, first. For Lebanon to rise today, everyone who incites us against one another, whoever they may be, must fall. The true Lebanese is the one who seeks for others to live, even before himself.
We cannot proclaim that we worship one God while, in our daily lives, we practice a faithlessness that is a form of idolatry. Consider our situation carefully. Our current state serves only those who do not want us to exist at all. Those who despise our presence surely say of us, in secret and in public: "Keep distracting yourselves with one another, you fools. There is no greater path to your own ruin and irrelevance!"
I try to remain strong in my love for the choices upon which my years have been built. This, by my life, is a great spiritual struggle. My friends and my spiritual children all know that I have never missed an opportunity, despite our difficult circumstances, to call them to cling to this land. Some have left us without seeking permission. They departed in silence, as if they were merely guests in a foreign land. They did not ask for an opinion they already knew. Their weariness overcame them, and they vanished. I do not apologize to them, nor do I retreat from this struggle, for my own sake and for theirs.
Nothing in this nation has any meaning if we do not all consider ourselves responsible for it. I know Lebanon’s weaknesses. I do not console myself by saying the whole world is full of weakness; rather, I say that this country is my field of labor. We are here for a purpose. What awaits us tomorrow? I do not know. What I do know is that Lebanon will not become better unless I first demand of myself that I become a better person. Virtue, in politics as in our approach to God, begins with me. Yes, with me, first.
It remains for us to strive. Love understands. This is a nation capable of rising. We must hold on to some hope.
