Lebanonization of transnational identities and other illusions

By Joseph Sopholaus | Free thinker, poet, and an essayist

Whenever the issue of transnational identities is raised in political discussions, the “Lebanonists” leap forward to speak about the policy of Lebanonization—that is, aligning Arab Shiite collective consciousness with the borders of Greater Lebanon, which this consciousness had historically rejected, most violently in the form of sectarian bloodshed, from the Ain Ibl massacre in 1920 to the ethnic cleansing of Christians from South Lebanon. Lebanonists justify the project of Lebanonization by presenting it as a new and revolutionary experiment. In reality, however, it is a failed experiment previously attempted by Fouad Chehab and later Elias Sarkis—albeit under different labels (at the time, it was referred to as ‘statization’). The outcomes have always been sectarian violence accompanied by further institutional fragmentation. 

There is an inherent problem in the concept of Lebanonization, stemming from a particular (if not explicitly Christian) perception of what Lebanonization entails, expressed in the following question: How can we turn transnational identities into local ones? This question carries two assumptions: 

(1) That identities are so dynamic they can be reconstructed and radically changed—an elementary fallacy; 

(2) That the “correct” identity is one that aligns with specific conceptions of history, society, and culture—thus denying the relativity of values, which is also an elementary fallacy. 

Therefore, it is necessary to clarify these misconceptions and expose their inevitable failure, especially because they form the basis of dominant political discourse, particularly among Christian parties that are ideologically and popularly aligned with libertarian and federalist thought: 

(1) Identities are dynamic, but not to the extent that they can be radically transformed—especially without the use of massive force. Consider, for example, the Japanese identity from the 19th century to the mid-20th century, which was constructed around fascist supremacism, expansionism, and honor. Changing that identity required the massive force of the atomic bomb during World War II—and yet, honor remains the cardinal value in the Japanese hierarchy of values, even if no longer accompanied by fascist supremacism. 

(2) What may be true for the values of a local identity may be false for the values of a transnational identity—and vice versa. For example, military intervention in the Arab-Israeli conflict may be deemed morally right according to the values of the Muslim community in Lebanon, while it may be considered wrong according to the values of the Christian community. In this context, participation in wars and conflicts becomes not a moral issue, but a purely political one. This becomes clearer when looking at other ethno-religious conflicts in the region (such as the Syrian civil war, or the Arab-Iranian conflict, etc.). 

Therefore, Lebanonization is a choice. It may also be a policy—but certainly not one that can be easily imposed. And there is definitely a more serious alternative: separation and the recognition of the rights of transnational identities. This requires us, as Christians, to shift our perception of Lebanon from a conservative-consumerist vision to a radical-Liberationist one.