Beauty and the beast: The Lebanese paradox

Monday marked 100 days until the London Paralympics. We had prepared a programme of events promoting the milestone, raising the profile of London and the UK, and encouraging greater focus on disability rights in Lebanon. But the disturbances of the weekend meant that we took a decision to focus on those instead. In a country where instability and anxiety are never far below the surface, that was the right call. But it meant that we missed an opportunity to do important work.

And it made me think again that there can be few other countries in the world where the contrasts and paradoxes facing an embassy are so great. Some examples from the last few days.

I’ve watched over 2000 Lebanese pupils from all communities take part – as Lebanese rather than from specific communities –  in a ‘Big Dance’ in central Beirut, to coincide with the arrival of the Olympic flame in the UK. But I’ve also analysed with our experts whether the political tension between these same diverse communities is increasing to dangerous levels.

I’ve taken part in a virtual discussion with Lebanese diva Haifa Wehbe to promote Great British music. But I’ve also had daily discussions with political and military leaders on how to contain violence in Tripoli and the North.

I’ve seen fresh excitement from top UK companies about the potential of Lebanon, and watched plans fall into place for a spectacular British week in June. But we have also updated our travel advice to recommend against travel to unstable parts of the country.

I’ve given out prizes to pupils from North and South, and AUB students in Beirut, and found that they are united by a love for David Beckham. But I’ve also seen brave residents of Tripoli host a half marathon to signal their rejection of the violence on their doorsteps.

I’ve met manufacturers of luxury cars and yachts – we sell more per capita in Lebanon than anywhere in the world. But I travelled to see them in an armoured car.

As an ambassador here, you constantly ask yourself if we have got the balance right between the security work and the wider commercial and cultural agenda. My conclusion? Like Sinatra, you can’t have one without the other. Yes, we need to be prepared for all eventualities – my bosses, and British citizens here, rightly expect us to have the most robust possible plans in place for any deterioration in the situation. And we need to exercise our influence to prevent that deterioration.

But Lebanon is also about so much more than the next crisis. It is an extraordinary, talented, resilient, hopeful, diverse, beautiful, bewildering and enchanting place – an idea worth fighting for, not fighting over. It has always combined the challenge of insecurity with the promise and dynamism of a country between continents. It has always shown the benefits of coexistence, and the cost of division. By maintaining our focus on the best, we are better placed to prevent the worst. For just as instability has the potential to undermine everything else we do; everything else we do can help reduce instability.

So, let’s talk about the challenges, and ensure that we are prepared for all outcomes. But let’s also talk about what unites rather than divides. Let’s talk about the heritage and the heroes, the scenery and the soukhs, the traffic jams and the tabbouleh, the divas and the diversity. Let’s talk about how to give people what they want: security, justice and opportunity. Let’s talk about what Lebanon can be in 2020. Let’s talk about how a confident Great Britain can be part of this.

And yes, let’s talk about the Olympics and Paralympics – after all, isn’t unity through diversity what they are all about? So, two days late, I urge the Lebanese people to unite behind their brilliant athletes in London. The United Kingdom looks forward to welcoming The United Lebanon.