Guest Post by Jad Baaklini

On July 1, an independent group of anti-sectarian activists organizing within the Matn region convened a discussion of Christian thought and Secularism by University of Balamand lecturer and cleric Joseph Massouh. ‘3ala Matn el 3elmaniye/On Board Secularism’, which I am a member of, organized this event to address a problem it faced while agitating against the sectarian system in the past few months, as part of the Isqat al Nizam movement; given the demographic make-up of our region, most people we spoke to understood our cause as a cipher for a majoritarian coup aimed at further marginalizing the Christians at best, or a project of outright ‘Islamification’ at worst.

We felt we needed to approach our community from a perspective different from the usual left-leaning narrative; while our region has had a long history of progressive-nationalist political activity, we wanted to engage with those who do not share these points of reference, and take their concerns seriously. It was important for us to communicate how the secular state that we call for is not something to fear nor at odds with their culture and upbringing.

On the contrary, during his talk Massouh went as far as saying that even when basing himself purely on Christian values and points of reference, the case for secularism is very strong; “as a cleric, it is my religious duty to protest against the sectarian system and not just my national one,” he insisted.

Massouh began his cogent and engaging argument by highlighting the roots of secular thought in Europe, saying that Christianity, when understood as a social phenomenon and not as the teachings of Christ himself, has had a “black history” full of war. In his opinion, secularism in Europe freed both citizens and religious authorities alike by allowing priests to focus on their proper role as interpreters of spiritual matters instead of dictating people’s lives.

He then went on to outline the history of anti-sectarian thought within the Libano-Syrian Christian community, recalling Boutrous Boustani’s ridicule of the system around 150 years ago in the journal Nafeer Sourya in which he called sectarianism “backwardness” and “barbarism”.

“The system always generates war and yet we still say that ours is a pluralist system, a ‘message’,” Massouh continued. “Incidentally, John Paul II’s statement about Lebanon was mistranslated; he didn’t say we are ‘greater than a nation’ (akbar min watan), he said we are ‘more than a nation’ (aktar min watan), and he’s right; we’re more than one nation.” He went on to say that this ‘message’ must be understood as in need of constant ‘re-writing’ (i3adat siyagh) in order to build a unifying civic and national identity.

Massouh then explained how the “Greater Lebanon” period established the current confessionalist balance: “We Christians were the majority and we had power, but failed to build a state. We never had a ‘man of state’ (rajul dawle),” he insisted. “If we did, he would have left us something of a state. No, they were all concerned with benefiting from it.”

Massouh asked Christians to stop thinking in terms of numbers, an idea echoed later by an audience member who put it best saying: “stop counting!” Massouh stressed on the fact that population size is no guarantee of anything, adding provocatively that within the current system, we cannot expect non-Christian sects to be charities; “they are not Caritas.” Christians looking for protection and existential guarantees can only expect to find it under secularism, he concluded.

So how does Massouh understand this system? He differentiated between laïcité and sécularisme, with the latter holding a (materialist) position with respect to religion itself, while the former aiming only to drive a wedge between secular (i.e. non-clerical) affairs of the state and the spiritual affairs of religious authorities. Hence, Massouh advocated laïcié and not anti-religious secularism, but also insisted that people have a right to non-belief. “Just because my father is Orthodox doesn’t mean I should remain one; why should a priest rule over me [in marital affairs] just because I was born that way?”

“People have a right to leave their sect; we [clerics] would be acting in bad faith (nifaq) if we did not allow them to leave,” he insisted.

Secularism according to Massouh would confer full citizenship to people: “If I were born a Sunni in Koura, where the only parliamentary seats are for Orthodox people, I would not be a full citizen; I would be living in dhimmitude.”

“Women are not allowed to confer citizenship to their children if their father is non-Lebanese,” he continued. “The fear is that they may marry Palestinians… Can’t a woman fall in love with a Palestinian? Jesus was a Palestinian!”

Massouh criticized Islamic institutions that do not accept laws that protect women from domestic violence, for example, but he also criticized Christians who say that they will accept such civil laws when Muslims accept them. He urged people to support these measures based on their principles, saying that “waiting is not part of Christian belief; we work on bringing God’s Kingdom in the here and now”.

Wrapping up his talk, Massouh warned that the current system did not help Christians, asking those of the faith in the room to remember the secularist tradition of their great grandparents, adding: “clerics who defend the sectarian system speak against Christ.”

While some in the audience asked questions indicating that they were still not convinced about secularism itself or the current Isqat al Nizam movement, the feedback overall was very positive. One audience member told me later that not only was Massouh’s case for secularism made very well (“he is more engaging than Gregoire Haddad even!”), basics of Christianity became much clearer to him for the first time.

3ala Matn el 3elmaniye/On Board Secularism hopes to organize more events in line with our belief in community-based, regionally-aware activism, and offers this discussion as a model for others working within areas that may not be immediately hospitable to secularism to emulate and develop.

If you would like to get in touch with us, please join our Facebook group or follow us on Twitter: @MATNel3elmaniye

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After months of incessant publicity (all of which started through social media and then moved into press coverage), the Lebanese Laique Pride, a march for secularism, finally took place this morning with thousands of people participating! Numbers are estimated at two to three thousand, but I am very sure that at least 5,000 people started the march. At one point, they filled up the width of the road from on top of the Expo Beirut tunnel all the way down and around the Phoenicia hotel. Everyone came together for a very simple, yet daring and bold, initiative by 5 friends: Nasri Sayegh, Yalda Younes, Said Chaitou, Alexandre Paulikevitch, and Kinda Hassan. Often, the best organizing for social change starts with an idea that a small group of friends have.

Many news agencies have reported that a maximum of 2,000 participants marched in today’s event, although many of us are sure we had way more than 2,000. Here is a photo by @funkyozzi that shows only a part of the march – clearly in the thousands.

View @funkyozzi‘s blog post about the event.

A Unified Stand Against Sectarianism

The march was not longer than a couple of kilometers – starting on the Corniche of Ain El Mraisse all the way up to Masaref Street of Downtown Beirut. Secularist organizations, student groups, women’s organizations (including the awesome Nasawiya), and a majority of unaffiliated citizens marched together with slogans, chants, drumbeats, whistles, led by a truck with blasting music and secularist slogans:

• “Ta2 Ta2 Ta2ifiyyi.. La2 La2 3ilmaniyyi..” (Sec Sec Sectarianism.. No, No, Secularism)
• “Shou tayiftak? Ma khassak!” (What’s your religion/sect? It’s none of your business!)
• “Al-3ilmaniyyi hiyyil 7al” (Secularism is the solution)

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In a country so deeply divided along sectarian lines (in the personal status laws, in every aspect of the government, in people’s mindsets) which are manifested in civil wars and conflicts all the time, this march was totally awesome. Who would have thought so many people of all shapes and sizes would show up in such large numbers to support the idea of an anti-sectarian state in Lebanon? I had attended some of the organizational meetings of the event, where many people kept asking: what’s next? How is this going to help? What is it going to achieve? What is your political demand? How are we going to solve the issues posed by sectarianism, which seem like a total political deadlock? Etc. I personally think the organizers played it smart by saying that they weren’t trying to solve the entire sectarian crisis in Lebanon. They were, however, trying to bring people who believe in or work on secularism in Lebanon together on one day, for one march, to show first and foremost that there are many of us. The thousands who actually showed up stand for tens of thousands who were sitting at home. We also showed that we can put our differences in strategy and ideology aside for one day to come together and show solidarity for our cause. What happens afterward? We keep on fighting our battles, debating this system we live in, and maybe, perhaps, who knows, some of us might have been so inspired by the feeling and ambiance today that we step it up a notch in terms of working together and raising a stronger unified voice against the many ugly faces of sectarianism in Lebanon.

Social Media

Yalda Younes leading the march

Also, I want to give a big shout out to citizen journalism, which is alive and kicking in Beirut! It seemed like every other person had a photo or video camera, and I recognized many bloggers and tweeps taking part and snapping pictures. Of course there was the genius banner: “Sectarian #Epic #Fail” which only a handful of people understood but adored The number of participants on the ground was also a big boost to all of us slactivists who use Facebook and social media as our major tool of organizing. They are becoming more effective tools every day.

Things I liked most: We didn’t have any sectarian infiltrators, though that probably means nobody was taking us seriously =) A woman led the march. There were lots of baby strollers and dogs! Everybody seemed really happy. I got to carry my “3omro ma yirja3 al-tawezon il ta2ifi” (To Hell with sectarian balance) for the second time. Things I didn’t like: singing the friggin national anthem when we got close to Parliament. #Boo. I can’t stand national anthems. There was no mention of Palestinians and a lot of mention of “Lebanese” “Lebanesedom” “Lebanese-ness” which also makes me feel nauseous.

But yeah, awesome march all in all =) Here’s a pic of my favorite people at the march: the feminists and the tweeps (and me, the feminist tweep).

And I had to include this photo of the secularist doggie!