Some places on Earth are like intricate clocks—touched the wrong way, and everything falls apart. Lebanon is one of those clocks, but it’s been running for decades with missing gears. How does that even work? You’d think a country where the Deputy Prime Minister has to be Greek Orthodox—while other roles are reserved for specific religious groups—would have imploded by now. But here we are, marveling at how it still breathes.
What I’ve Come to Believe
Religion isn’t just a belief system in Lebanon—it’s the operating system. The country was literally carved out by France with the goal of being an independent Christian state. But the math never quite added up. Christian regions were too small, so France expanded Lebanon to include coastal cities where Muslims were the majority—creating this delicate, artificial balance. Could it be that the French, in their colonial wisdom, accidentally created a system that would keep everyone too busy fighting for power to actually govern?
The census is the elephant in the room nobody will acknowledge. Seriously—the only national census ever published was in 1932. What if they took a real count today? They’d discover that the country is now a Shia majority, which would mean shifting political power. And no one in power wants that. So instead, they keep the outdated 1932 numbers on life support. It’s like a game of musical chairs where everyone pretends the music will never stop.
- Lebanon is a masterclass in “too busy to fail.” With daily power outages, Syrian refugees making up 30% of the population, and Hezbollah operating as a state within a state, you’d think the whole thing would collapse. But somehow, it’s still here. What if the constant crises are the only thing keeping the fragile balance from tipping? Like a tightrope walker who has to keep moving to stay balanced.
The protecting powers are the invisible strings. Iran for the Shia, Turkey/Saudi Arabia for the Sunnis, France for the Maronites—each group has a foreign power pulling its strings. It’s like a puppet show where no one knows who’s holding the strings. And the puppets? They’re just trying to survive.
Corruption isn’t a bug—it’s a feature. Political rivals from different sects are often business partners, taking inflated government contracts. It’s a system where everyone’s supposed to hate each other but secretly need each other to stay in power. I can’t help but wonder—what if the only way this system works is by keeping everyone complicit?
Lebanon is proof that borders don’t always make sense. The country is about the size of New Jersey, with religious groups living so close together that even the best-drawn borders couldn’t prevent conflict. What if the real mystery isn’t why Lebanon is unstable, but why it was ever created in the first place? The map makers of the world wars left some wild legacies.
The Christian exodus is the silent ghost in the room. Lebanon was majority Christian at its formation, but persecution and emigration have changed that. Now, 50% of government seats are still reserved for Christians even though they’re only 30% of the population. Could it be that the system is so broken, it’s actually keeping the remaining Christians safer by maintaining this illusion?
Hezbollah is the ultimate wildcard. The Lebanese army and leadership are weak and corrupt, while Hezbollah operates with military precision. It’s like a country where the actual government is just a suggestion. And no one’s quite sure how to fix it—because messing with Hezbollah might be like poking a sleeping dragon.
Lebanon is like a time capsule frozen in the 1980s. The civil war ended decades ago, but the country feels stuck. Daily life is a mix of ancient traditions and modern chaos. What if the only way Lebanon can exist is by refusing to move forward? Like a museum piece that’s accidentally still alive.
The refugees are the hidden variable. Tens of thousands of Syrians and Palestinians living as non-citizens—how does that even work? It’s like adding more pieces to a puzzle that was already too complex. And yet, somehow, the pieces haven’t fallen apart yet.
Anything Is Possible
Lebanon is a paradox wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. It’s a country that shouldn’t exist, yet it does. The system is broken, the numbers are fake, and the future is uncertain. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe the only way to survive in a place like Lebanon is to embrace the chaos, to find wonder in the impossible, and to keep breathing—just like the people who call it home. After all, if Lebanon can keep standing without knowing how many people actually live there, what else is possible?