SECULAR LEBANESE of all sects and stations converged yesterday on the port city of Sidon to demonstrate against the sectarian power-sharing regime that has ruled their country for nearly a century.
They came from all over the south – the ancient city of Tyre, the hill town of Marjayoun and the border village of Tibnin where Irish peacekeepers were based for more than two decades to which they are soon to return.
Young, middle-aged and old, bearing banners and placards, they assembled in front of the Lebanese University: women in headscarves; men in suits; boys and bareheaded girls in Che Guevara T-shirts; children with faces painted in the red, white and green colours of the Lebanese flag; Palestinians from the camps.
Youngsters carrying a long narrow Lebanese flag, the cedar emblem at its centre, began the march to the municipality, trucks blaring slogans at their heels. Armed troops standing beside two armoured vehicles watched from the verge; blue-suited policemen with taser rods walked alongside.
“The people want to end the regime!” the demonstrators chanted, echoing the slogan of masses of Egyptians who toppled President Hosni Mubarak. Anti-sectarian Lebanese do not strive to bring down the president or prime minister but the entire structure of the state bequeathed to Lebanon by colonial France. “Freedom, democracy, one Lebanon,” they shouted.
Rima Zaazaa, from Sidon, observed the original effort to end sectarianism was made in 1976. Its now elderly patron saint, Greek Catholic bishop Gregoire Haddad took part in the first demonstration of the current campaign in Beirut. “Now because of the revolution in the Arab countries, there is more hope for change,” she stated.
May, a teacher from Nabatieh, said the sectarian system deprives the poorof electricity, water and a decent life. “The politicians [empowered by sectarian quotas] don’t care for the people. We have to work a lot to [be able afford to] live in Lebanon.”
An electrician from Huleh village, Hussein Chreim, observed that most people learnt about the demonstration by word of mouth rather than on Facebook and Twitter, the social media employed by organisers inspired by the risings in Tunis and Cairo.
“But,” he added, with meaning, “Facebook is what people make of it. They can use it against enemies.” The march proceeded peacefully along the broad streets of Sidon until young men in front of the Banque du Liban engaged in fisticuffs with some demonstrators. Heavily pregnant Rania Haja from the coastal village of Adloun said, “This movement is small now but we will make it into something wow!” Families waved from balconies as the procession passed, participants calling on them to join. Many came, filling the streets with marchers.
Sidon-born Nour Ansari, who works in advertising in Beirut, and her father came in half-way. “Some of the [political] parties did not let their supporters come,” she said. “I don’t belong to a party. My family does not care about religion. I was raised in a good way.”
Youths invited an old woman on a balcony in a half-built house to join but she flipped her hand: begone. Some folks fear change.