Here We Go Again

Exactly one week ago, memes started circulating throughout Lebanon as Iran and Israel went to war. The two nations were exchanging missiles, sending them sailing over Lebanese airspace, but folks in Lebanon were too busy on the snowy slopes of Faraya and Kfardebian to take notice or care. Oh, the sad irony, when less than 48 hours later, Lebanon became embroiled in the war, too.



Skiers gliding down the slopes at the Mzaar-Kfardebian ski resort northeast of Beirut, Lebanon. Saturday, January 3, 2026. (Photo credit: AP Photo/Hassan Ammar)


There is so much insight to unpack from that meme. First and foremost, Lebanese people are a recreation-loving, joie-de-vivre-seeking, jolly sort of folk. They truly just want to live and let live. I’ve never seen a populace enjoy life so fully, despite local and regional setbacks. Defiant persistence is etched in their DNA. They are doomed to suffer, even though they are not culpable. 

I mean, seriously, how much more adversity need the Lebanese people add to our collective resume? In the last six years alone, we’ve witnessed total financial collapse, frozen bank deposits, a port blast commensurate to a nuclear bomb in its magnitude and aftermath, a crippled economy, rampant corruption, war in the autumn of 2024, a precarious ceasefire that did not in fact see a cessation of hostilities, and here we are, knee-deep in apocalyptic annihilation, displacement of some 800,000 people, and evacuation of the entire southern region of Lebanon.

The question is not so much how we got here but rather where we go from here. 

To those of you reading from outside Lebanon, the situation within our borders is grim. Where I live, things are relatively quiet, though occasionally you do hear planes overhead, especially in the later hours (I’m hearing a drone now, as I write this). Most businesses are operating normally, with visibly more footfall than usual at grocery stores as panicked residents brace for further escalation. 

Schools were cancelled for the entirety of the week, and we have yet to understand whether the Ministry of Education will prolong closures or allow each school to determine its own status pending circumstances. As a parent, it’s upsetting to see kids deprived of normalcy, of learning, of being carefree. Fortunately, I’m able to stay home with my children, but I do wonder how parents who are employed and unable to plug in remotely are navigating these realities.

We’ve heard US President Donald Trump cite a five-week timetable to duke it out with Iran, but more realistic estimates shift that scale to six months! Can we cope with half a year of aggression, instability, destruction, and uncertainty? How will this tiny Mediterranean country come out on the other end, after the dust settles and the aggressors recede? 

All I know for certain is that Lebanon has been tested relentlessly and rapaciously, and people are at their wits’ end. I’m tired of plans being foiled because of our regional neighbors and the volatility that has become endemic to this part of the world. Just as we were celebrating a return to a booming hospitality sector, to fresh injections of venture capital, to renewed optimism and a positive outlook riding on the heels of Pope Leo’s historic visit to Lebanon in December 2025, the proverbial carpet was pulled out from beneath us, leaving us prostrate and powerless to do anything. Those Lebanese emigrants who sought better livelihoods and stability in the GCC countries are witnessing the same debilitating vulnerability in their adopted nations as that here in the homeland. Even in Europe and the USA, the economic impact of this war has rippled, as evidenced by soaring fuel prices and the cost of goods. 

Let’s pray the powers that be will act swiftly to end the hostilities, because the longer this drags out, the less likely we can bounce back and recover. 




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