I have been so distressed at the news that the beautiful country of Lebanon is being bombed daily.  I fear this week's attacks have set back Lebanon's efforts to rebuild by at least a decade, maybe more.


Below is an essay I wrote published in The Californian a few days ago.
t was just a few weeks ago that I was in Beirut, enjoying a lovely summer evening at a seaside café. A popular local gathering place, the café was packed with locals sipping tea, as young men nearby stood on rocks to cast fishing lines into the Mediterranean. A fiery orange sun was sinking into the water.

If I were there today, the view would be much different. Instead of the green hills of Beirut in the distance, I would see black plumes of smoke above Beirut's airport, which was bombed by Israel in retaliation for Hezbollah's capture of two Israeli soldiers in southern Lebanon. The streets of the capital city, normally a cacophony of horns and grinding car engines, are now empty, as Beirutis take refuge in anticipation of further Israeli attacks. The airport is closed; Israel has imposed a blockade on the port, a vital source of supplies for the seaside country; bridges leading to the capital city have been bombed; and people are hoarding food, water and fuel.

The evening at the cafe was the final night of my trip to Beirut, where I represented The Californian at a U.S. State Department conference to support independent Arab media companies. At the café, I thought of the stories I could tell when I returned to Bakersfield.

I would talk about the many gracious and welcoming people I met. I'd note the intense
cultural contrast in Beirut, where veiled women walk alongside girls in halter tops and posters of the Ayatollah Khomeni hang from street lamps within view of billboards promoting Burger King.

I would describe the magnificent Roman ruins at Baalbek that took four centuries to construct and I would tell the inspiring stories of journalists who were assassinated for the simple act of speaking their minds.

I arrived back in Bakersfield and did share those stories with my colleagues and
friends. But the routine of life and work quickly pushed Lebanon to the back of my mind.

Today, I can't stop thinking about it and find myself anxiously checking the English-language Web sites run by my new friends at NaharNet (http://naharnet.com) and The Daily Star (http://dailystar.com.lb/) for the latest news and pictures.

That's the funny thing about travel. It changes you and replaces anonymous adjectives, such as "war torn," with the faces and voices of people, the sights of cosmopolitan city and the taste of honey-soaked pastries.

You acquire a new sense of the importance of geography. Although I had seen maps of the Middle East, I didn't understand how small Lebanon really is until I was there. The entire country is only 3,950 square miles, about half the size of Kern County! It takes less time to drive from Beirut to the northern border of Israel than it takes us to get to Pismo.

Another thing that changes is your ability to label people in sweeping ways. Not all people who live in Lebanon are Muslims, and not all Muslims support Hezbollah. In fact, about 40 percent of Lebanese are Christians. By law the president must be a Maronite Catholic; the prime minister must be a Sunni Muslim; and the speaker of the Parliament must be a Shia Muslim. Interfaith conflict was one of the driving forces in the county's civil war that lasted from 1975 to 1990.

What's especially sad about this episode of violence is that it comes at one of the most optimistic periods in recent Lebanese history. Since the end of the civil war, Beirut's downtown has been nearly reconstructed, a new modern airport was built and foreign investment is on the rise. Lebanon was considered to be the most progressive of the Arab nations, especially for women.

But the most inspiring event of all happened last year, after former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri was assassinated in a car bomb in downtown Beirut.

The nation was outraged at this attack, believed to have been carried out by the
Syrians. Millions of people took to the street in peaceful protest. The largest demonstration drew 1.5 million people about one-third of the country. International pressure grew and the last Syrian troops left Lebanon in April 2005. Lebanon was independent, at last. And now, this.

Middle East politics are complex and a brief trip to Beirut doesn't make me an expert. But a conflict that seemed worlds away a few weeks ago is now personal for me. It is my hope that this round of violence doesn't cause the window of democracy and independence to slam shut again for Lebanon.

 

I gave my presentation at the conference today and the topic everyone wanted to talk about was community-created content. I described The Northwest Voice and how it is written largely by people who live in the Northwest, and several people told me afterward that they feel this idea could work in Lebanon, too. Only about 19% of Lebanese households have Internet access, but Internet cafes are everywhere and are quite popular. Lebanon has the advantage of being able to look at what has worked on the internet in other places and apply those ideas here to get a head start. Plus, Lebanese people are very social and love to talk and debate -- perfect for blogs and other online communities! I look forward to seeing what develops in Lebanese cyberspace. I have a good feeling about it.

Lebanon is thought to have one of the most vibrant media communities in the Middle East, with dozens of newspapers, radio stations and television stations. Satellite is the primary broadcasting mechanism for TV, and there are more than 250 Arab TV channels. However, the majority of media outlets can't cover their costs with advertising. The average monthly income in Lebanon is $200, meaning most people don't have enough disposable income to buy the good and services that could be advertised. So media outlets survive with subsidies from various factions, especially political and/or religious organizations who want to advance certain causes or points of view. When you add this economic problem to the intimidation that some journalists face for criticizing the government. Lebanese media face an uphill climb in becoming financially independent. But many of the people attending this conference are determined to overcome these obstacles and I believe they will find a way to do it!

I would like to welcome conference participants to my blog and hope that you will join in the conversation by introducing yourself and posting a comment!

In Lebanon, most people speak both Arabic and French, and many speak English, as well. In my tour group of about a dozen people, the participants collectively spoke German, Spanish, English, Arabic, French and Japanese. But the tour guide only had to speak in English and French because everyone had those two languages in common. I couldn't help but think of the immigration debate back home and wonder how it would be different if we were all bilingual, speaking both English and Spanish. It's a lot harder to demonize people when you can directly communicate with them.

In the U.S., the meaning of independent media is typically associated with ownership. Either you're privately held (i.e. independent) or you're part of a larger corporation. In Lebanon, the issue is not ownership, it's independence of perspective. And journalists here have paid a high price for that independence. In the last year, two writers from the independent-minded Lebanese daily newspaper Al-Nahar were assassinated for their writings critical of Syria, whose forces occupied Lebanon for 26 years until leaving in April 2005. A couple of days ago, I happened to catch a BBC interview with May Shidyak, a well-known Lebanese television journalist also critical of Syria who survived a car bomb attack that resulted in the amputation of one hand and one leg. At dinner this evening, I sat next to an executive from Al-Nahar, a family-owned newspaper like The Californian that has been publishing in Lebanon for 80 years. Despite these horrible assassinations, he remains optimistic and determined that his newspaper stay independent, both in ownership and in spirit. I have the highest admiration for these ideals. And I have a renewed appreciation of living in a country and working for a newspaper where my life is not at risk for simply expressing my point of view.

Just wanted to say thanks to everyone at the U.S. State Department for taking such good care of me and all the conference guests here in Beirut. Everyone has been so welcoming and helpful. This evening I had an opporunity to meet several members of the American Embassy staff, all of whom were exceptionally professional, well-informed and friendly. This conference was organized by the U.S. Middle East Partnership Initiative, which is online at http://mepi.state.gov/ There is no conference agenda posted just yet (but hey, you have me as your personal correspondent).

I have been keeping up with local events through The Daily Star, http://www.dailystar.com.lb A friend in Los Angeles introduced The Daily Star's Editor-at-Large, Rami Khouri, and I'm looking forward to meeting him later in the week. Rami's columns also are published in Newsweek and he's a frequent commentator on Arab affairs for National Public Radio. Rami has been so gracious and welcoming to me via e-mail -- thanks Rami! You can see his work at http://ramikhouri.com/

Here in Lebanon, driving is, shall we say, rather freeform. Most roads do not have lane markers painted on pavement and there are few traffic signals or crosswalks. Drivers just squeeze their way in and honk at each other -- a lot. Some highways outside of Beirut do have a double-yellow line to mark the lanes, but that area is mainly used for passing. In just a few days, I have seen many, many near-misses (of both other vehicles and pedestrians). I think there was a Seinfeld episode where Jerry said that he didn't mind the crazy cab drivers in New York because when you're riding in the back of a cab, you get some kind of special immunity from accidents. I hope that applies in Beirut, too!

Lebanon is a small country with a population of 3.8 million. The civil war that ended in 1990 resulted in a huge exodus of people, and now the largest Lebananese population in the world can be found in... Brazil! There are an estimated 7 million Lebanese there. No wonder I'm seeing so many Brazilian flags flown here for the World Cup.