In the Land of Cedars : Lebanon must learn its lesson from the thirty years of violence
Thousands of images rush through my head when I think about living in Lebanon. It is incredible how fresh the memories are—how painful the events are to recall. Indeed, it is euphemism to call them “events.” They are perhaps more accurately described in stronger terms: “wars,” “atrocities,” “massacres,” “kidnappings,” “hijackings,” “plots” and even “gross treason.”
There have been so many of these events in Lebanon. When I stopped to think about what to say about life in Lebanon when writing this piece, all these memories came into my mind at once, and the sounds of war rang in my ears. Each person probably remembers these events differently, depending on their region and religion. But what the events have in common is that they destroyed our beloved country—the country of the cedars and honey and of the old townhouses filled with the warmth and hospitality of its people, and with its beautiful wild flowers of all colors and scents, hundreds of bountiful fruit trees, and all four seasons.
