Anatomy of an Anomaly: Thawra or Mere Spasm?

The brutal repression unleashed by the mullahs and the Pasdaran to neutralize the courageous revolution of Iranian citizens bears the hallmarks inherent to every dictatorship. More than 30,000 dead, 40,000 imprisoned whose fate remains unknown, an incalculable number of missing persons—and the figures will only rise as the macabre truth gradually comes to light. Very quickly, terror replaced the long-awaited hope for change. Order seems to reign once again, but at what price—and above all, for how long? 

In the absence of a united opposition, the medieval and corrupt dictatorial regime has free rein to set fire to and spill the blood of anything that moves. Methodically, viciously, savagely, without the slightest scruple. The only lifeline to which the majority of Iranians cling remains a possible American intervention, though no one knows in advance what its consequences might be, either internally or regionally. 

Admittedly, the fire continues to smolder beneath the ashes, but the blaze will reignite only if the regime, battered by American blows, begins to falter. In the meantime, victims are counted daily, yet the world still does not move. No demonstrations in the streets of major capitals, no student uprisings on university campuses, few forceful interventions by politicians on international television channels—just reproaches, half-hearted condemnations, sterile mood swings. Yet not long ago, the entire world was vibrating for Gaza, also the victim of systematic carnage. Enough to scratch one’s chin and ask questions: double standards? Are there repressions that must be condemned loudly, and others that are acceptable and do not provoke universal rejection?

But let us turn to Lebanon. By closely examining the Iranian revolution, let us ask whether the term “thawra” truly fits the events that shook our country in 2019. Is it really appropriate? Is it not somewhat exaggerated? Disproportionate? Even out of context? Certainly, the exasperation of a population worn down by an unbearable cost of living, the immeasurable waste of the state, the glaring absence of justice, creeping corruption, the undeniable lack of services at all levels, and pervasive insecurity fully justified the near-general refusal to be trampled day after day by a failed state. But upon closer examination of those October 2019 days, was it not simply an uprising, a spasm, a jolt that ultimately proved to have no consequences? 

True, clashes between protesters and security forces—and above all the frenzied, impetuous savagery of Berri’s praetorian guard—caused numerous injuries, some very serious. But unlike the Iranian bloodbath, blood did not flow in torrents. There were no deaths, no massive destruction, no disappearances or arbitrary convictions. In short, a spasm that turned every evening into a popular and musical fair, and that soon fizzled out.

One is therefore entitled to ask why Lebanese dissent ran out of steam and went off the rails. To address this, a host of questions come to mind. Does the existence of our local Leviathans depend on our acquiescence in being dominated by them? Are we, for the most part, destined to remain the victims of a pyramidal mafia that cheerfully makes the rain and the sunshine? Do we suffer from Stockholm syndrome? 

One may advance every possible pretext to explain the failure of 2019 and thus soothe one’s conscience by invariably invoking nepotism, clientelism, confessionalism, the absence of the notion of citizenship, individualism, partisan and communal affiliation, the non-existence of a national narrative, illegal militia armament, the lack of a clear objective, the absence of unified leadership, etc. Yet, in my view, one essential ingredient was missing to overthrow the tyranny of a minority and achieve the change to which every civilized society aspires.

The answer may well be provided by La Boétie in his Discourse on Voluntary Servitude, written between 1546 and 1548: “Be resolved to serve no more, and you are free.” A sentence of implacable clarity. According to the author, tyranny is only possible because the people consent to a servitude whose reason does not lie in a lack of courage, but in an absence of WILL. This severe indictment, still relevant in Lebanon, should give us pause. 

To defend our freedom, it suffices to stop serving this minority. By ceasing to obey it, it loses its power. As one cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs, the risks of violence cannot be ruled out. We paid little price for it six years ago, but a harsher and bloodier recurrence must be envisaged if popular will decides to take its destiny into its own hands.

To the cynics who would sneer at such remarks, I would reply with an example. We have the opportunity to rally the majority of the people around a common cause, dear to all, that transcends religious and political affiliation. I refer here to the financial scandal that stripped the majority of savers, across all categories. In any other self-respecting country, the street would have delivered a radical verdict had the state not promptly resolved the matter—which is far from being our case. In parliament, a veritable Palace of Shame, we have been lulled with bombastic promises for six years. 

In government, humiliating and unjust proposals are put forward that disregard our self-respect and our intelligence. If there were a genuine popular and national will to change the situation, we could then speak of a revolution that, this time, should no longer be affected, threatened, or stifled by Hezbollah and other militias that have lost their aura and  power to harm.

Despite the dangers incurred, armed only with their will, Iranians who have nothing left to lose have courageously embarked on the revolutionary path, thus deserving our consideration and respect. True, they have been temporarily muzzled, but it is only a postponement. Every dictatorship, however ferocious it may be, is doomed in advance to end up in the dustbins of History.

In Lebanon, we missed the boat in 2019, and we are still not out of the woods. But it is never too late to do the right thing.