CITY IN SHOCK NISRINE JAAFAR looks back on the day Beirut’s peace was shattered
WHEN I FIRST heard the blast, I ran without looking back until I hit a wall of astonished students, staring at the billowing smoke now chocking the sky above. I turned around and thought the explosion must have targeted the American University of Beirut I had been visiting. The screams of onlookers and the sound of shattering glass pierced the air, evoking memories of war; chaos and confusion returning to in a city that has been battling its violent past.
Fifteen years after the civil war ended, a massive explosion in Lebanon’s capital proved that the hearts of its inhabitants were still vulnerable and that old scars were still raw. In the midst of the turmoil, when news of what had actually happened came, it was a case of total shock. Supporters of the late Prime Minister Hariri’s policies despaired. As the tears welled in people’s eyes, questions were already forming in their minds.Who? Why? How?
The graphic media reports seemed too horrendous to be true, yet the press was clearly as over-awed by events as the general public. The television stations – at first cautiously, then more firmly – repeated the same words of mourning. People congregated by the seashore, where the explosives had been planted. Some were driven purely by curiosity, others by despair – but all exhibited the same sense of utter hopelessness, facing the future of their wounded nation.
In a matter of hours, everything closed down. From shops to bars, every corner of the devastated city observed a self-imposed curfew, which led angry individuals to the streets. Spontaneous demonstrations appeared on the streets, where distraught individuals wept for their deceased and swore to avenge them at any price.
Yet the burden of a darker future somehow fueled a return to the patriotism and brotherhood of old. Standing firmly hand in hand,men and women relinquished conflicting religions, sects and political affiliations in favour of a common identity, chaperoned by the cherished Lebanese flag.
At the heart of Beirut that night, searches for the dead did not stop. Only candles survived the ferocious cold of one of the cruelest Valentine’s Days Beriut has ever seen.
