An explosion whose power ranked it as the third most powerful explosion in the history of humanity certainly deserves some reflection. Since the end of World War II, the somber dates of August 6 and 9, 1945 — marking the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki — have remained etched in memory.
Seventy-five years later, almost to the day, on August 4 (still in August) of this year, an explosion with still-unknown exact causes (will we ever know them?) shook the city of Beirut, disfiguring its face turned toward the sea.
Every event lends itself to multiple levels of interpretation and gives rise to diverse explanations. In human society, we cannot delve too deeply into the origins of what happens and are compelled to focus on identifying the ”causa proxima”, the immediate cause, particularly to determine responsibilities and maintain a semblance of social order and coherence.
While this approach is indispensable for the survival of any society, it does not preclude a broader analysis of events.
When we adopt a holistic view of existence, perceiving that everything is interconnected by invisible threads — including what we consider inanimate objects — we realize that each event is the consequence of an infinity of factors that are nearly impossible to unravel. Thus, we look instead to uncover the message such an event might bring or the meaning it conveys.
Since October 2019, a popular protest movement began in Lebanon and was still ongoing at the time of the explosion. Although far from unanimous in its demands, it expressed a general sense of exasperation among the population regarding decades of poor governance. Despite regular protests and counter-protests over several months, the situation remained stagnant. A strong sense of frustration gripped the population, which, although divided in its demands, shared a profound feeling of helplessness. No solutions were in sight.
Many Lebanese had lost hope for change, and the believers among them began to wish — perhaps without much conviction — for divine intervention. With the year 2020 bringing catastrophic upheavals on a global scale from its very outset, social media jokes envisioned a disaster resetting everything to zero. One such joke claimed that when asked about Lebanon’s needed solution, a Japanese individual suggested only a nuclear explosion akin to Hiroshima could suffice, clearing the slate for a fresh start.
Much like the television series The Simpsons, which humorously predicted events that came true years later, could one not wonder whether the suppressed and accumulated anger within Lebanon’s collective unconscious finally erupted in a way that unblocked the situation? The deafening echo of this pent-up anger resonated both within and beyond the country’s borders.
Moving things externally was crucial as well, as Lebanon, given its geopolitical position and multi-confessional composition, has always been a sounding board for movements in its environment and, too often, a scapegoat for others’ conflicts—today more so than ever. Sadly, as Victor Hugo once wrote,
Humanity is a great wheel that cannot turn without crushing someone. — Victor Hugo
There were victims and destruction. But Lebanon’s outcry and plea for help were widely heard around the world, particularly across the Mediterranean, in the nation that, exactly 100 years ago, shaped modern Lebanon.
History once again offered France the opportunity to renew its commitment to the Land of the Cedars, which it has been — and continues to be for many Lebanese — a ”tender mother”. How could France ever forget General de Gaulle’s words, spoken in Beirut on July 27, 1941:
The Lebanese are the only people whose hearts have never ceased, for a single day, to beat in unison with the heart of France? — General de Gaulle