The spirit of freedom and the love of justice reign in the hearts of the sons and daughters of Lebanon, writes Karim Mroue* Within one week, Lebanon and I paid our last respects to four extraordinary citizens, all shining icons of the Left. Edmond Awn, May Ghassoub, Abdu Al-Husseini, and Joseph Samaha were from two different generations, but they had one thing in common. They were independently minded people who found their calling and voice in life and politics. I will not attempt to describe their life or put into words my profound appreciation for them, but let me say in all humility that a part of me died with them, a part of my political and intellectual life, even part of my homeland and a part of the way I relate to it. I recall every one of them and I cannot forget their ideals and sentiments. I recall how they lived, loved, and were excited about the future. I recall how they all wanted Lebanon to be free and fearless. The country they believed in was proud, humane and just. They may have left us, but their ideals live on. Our homeland may be pained and bleeding, but it is still fraught with their hopes and aspirations. In the name of my comrades; of those to whom we bade farewell yesterday and those to whom we bade farewell earlier; of the icons of past times, of present times, and of future times; of my comrades in death, in abduction and injustice; of a free and sovereign nation; of the world, of the oppressed and the righteous, I swear to uphold their memory. I swear with a clear conscience that the Lebanon I believe in is a country free from preconceptions and hatred, free from deification and excommunication, free from mediators of all sorts, free from injustice and oppression. The Lebanon I believe in is a homeland like no other, a homeland for our young and old, for our sons and fathers, for our grandsons and grandfathers, for people of all ages, of all horizons, and of all affiliations. The Lebanon I believe in existed from time immemorial and will live on despite the wounds and the bleeding. In the name of the comrades who have departed, I will say it out loud. I will say it with a broken voice and a heavy heart: I am tired of being tired. I am tired of worrying about the future of my children and the future of the children of my children. I have travelled for long in the shadow of the coffins and I am tired of waiting for a future that never comes, tired of hoping against hope. As I approach the end of my life, my heart is heavy with all the things to which we've been entitled but never had. So allow me to shed a tear for those who departed in these days of dispute and sedition, of killing and mayhem. In the name of fractured dreams and misplaced trust, in the name of the bitterness of the years and all the hope that still filters through the dimness of the future, I pledge to stay the course till the end, till freedom shines once more, till dreams are no longer fleeting and hopes are no longer out of reach. I believe in the day this country will break through the walls of fear and injustice. I believe in the day this country will triumph against its butchers. As I am paying my last respects to my comrades in freedom and justice, to my comrades in patriotism and hope, I beseech my brothers in all the Arab countries to understand one thing. The Lebanese have a love for freedom that goes back to time immemorial. The Lebanese deserve better than to be called traitors or heretics. The Lebanese deserve a chance to live. And they deserve to have their wishes respected. The Lebanese deserve all that and more, for they have been there for others. They have been there for Palestine, for all Arab nations. And they have been there for freedom, and will always be. * The writer is a Lebanese politician, member of the 14 March group, and former deputy secretary-general of the Lebanese Communist Party.
