Beirut

What stays with you when you travel to an eastern country for four weeks without a smidgeon of previous knowledge? Or the other way around: what will you notice most when you return home? This question is easy to answer: it’s the traffic. Suddenly there are no more cars driving in a completely unruly manner through the city, constantly honking their horns. That was my first impression of Beirut, and it will probably be the last one.

That may sound banal and superficial. Yet, in the meantime I have caught on – and this is the most important perception from this journey – that the road traffic symbolically reflects the way the Lebanese deal with their life circumstances. They way they drive their cars and scooters is how they manage their lives together. For example, they see red lights as an option, not an obligation. You simply drive through them and expect others to use their brakes. At first glance, it looks like incredible chaos, but it works. Violations are not penalized; you can ride your bike right past a policeman at night without lights the wrong way on a one-way street. He doesn’t even notice you.

The government that makes the rules even here (red traffic lights) is weak. So, the people deal with things themselves. The same applies to many areas of public life, such as the school system. The state schools are poorly equipped and have far too few teachers. Therefore, the Lebanese set up private schools. There is no secular family law, so they get married in a foreign country. There is no money from the state after bombing campaigns, so they simply rebuild their homes themselves.

In spite of all their different religious beliefs, all of the Lebanese are united in their rejection of the State of Israel. I tried to steer clear of this topic for a long time because I did not come here as a correspondent. But, there’s no avoiding it in the end. Rami, a taxi driver, told me his story. He comes from the south, grew up near the Israeli border. “The Israelis destroyed my parents’ house four times,” he reported. “Every time, we rebuilt it again. It is impossible for me to make peace with that state.” One day, Rami believes, there will only be one Palestine, “and it will open for everyone, even the Jews.”

Elections are in the spring

My conversation with Rami made clear to me how far this region is from genuine peace. Nonetheless, the Lebanese continue to build. In Beirut the skyscrapers shoot from the ground like mushrooms; huge investments are made in the city. What needs to be regulated is regulated. Hence, here the dialogue between religions – albeit of necessity – is far more advanced than, say, in Frankfurt. As early as 15 years ago a committee was established for Islamic-Christian dialogue, which sees itself as the conflict mediator. Most recently, in May this year the committee took up the negotiations when the Hezbollah blockaded the entire city centre. There are still tensions; the country is no refuge of peace. There were two attacks this summer resulting in dozens of fatalities.

Parliamentary elections will be held in the spring. Presently, a pro-western alliance holds the majority of seats. The seats in parliament and the government are still distributed according to the population percentages of the 18 religious groups – forcing them, so to say, to talk with one another. They entirely ignore the question whether the proportions are still applicable. The last census was taken in 1932. The Christian faction in particular is not interested in a new survey; they fear that the population has become too Muslim in the meantime. Not least due to the Palestinian refugees.

They are in a hopeless situation. They cannot return to their country and, for political reasons, are not allowed to settle down in Lebanon.

You could despair at the country’s problems. Yet, you can also enjoy it. At any rate, four weeks in Lebanon cannot come to an end without an excursion to the interesting tourist locations of the country. For although it is only half the size of Hesse, even beyond the cities of Beirut and Tripoli or the biblical historic sites of Byblos, Sidon and Tyros, Lebanon offers an abundance of possible outings, in particular the unique Qadisha Valley, a UNESCO World Cultural Heritage site since 1998. The valley is Lebanon’s Grand Canyon. It offers more than a breathtaking ravine, though, for Maronite monks hewed monasteries in the rocks. They created terraces where even today they cultivate fruit, vegetables and vineyards. Above the canyon thrones the idyllic little town of Bcharré where one can visit the museum and the grave of the famous Lebanese philosopher and painter Khalil Gibran (1883-1931).

Further up, we reach the country’s highest skiing region. Not to mention the cedar forests, Lebanon’s symbols. Some of the trees, they say, have been here since the time before Christ; they are up to 3,000 years old.

Colleague from Beirut at the FR

It’s now halftime for the Goethe-Institut’s “Close-Up” project. As a German journalist in Beirut I became acquainted with very open and tolerant people that you can talk with about everything – except Israel. Starting Monday Rana Najjar, my colleague from the Lebanese newspaper Al Hayat, will depict her impressions of life in Frankfurt in the FR. Let’s see what she has to say – for example about the traffic.