Lebanese people are known for their joy of life — their hayat — a stubborn insistence on celebrating existence despite decades of conflict.
youngpioneertours.com
Spending a few weeks in Lebanon, my homeland, I am reminded of the richness and intrigue of this remarkable country. Lebanon has always been a land of contrasts: A place where music, laughter, and the aroma of coffee fill the streets even as its aggressive, unrestrained neighbor’s warplanes roar overhead. The Lebanese people are known for their joy of life — their hayat — a stubborn insistence on celebrating existence despite decades of conflict. This love of life is not naïve; it is deliberate resistance. It is a refusal to surrender humanity to the machinery of destruction.
Nowhere is this spirit more visible than in Lebanon’s busy streets, boisterous parties and wedding ceremonies. Even in times of crisis, families gather to dance the dabke, drums echo through village halls, and brides and grooms are lifted high on shoulders as guests sing with abandon. These weddings are not merely celebrations of love; they are declarations of survival. They proclaim that joy will not be extinguished, that life will continue even in the shadow of war.
Yet today, that joy is under siege. Israeli bombardments have unleashed a scale of killing and devastation that
shocks the conscience. Since 2023, more than 4,300 Lebanese civilians have been killed, including hundreds of women and children. More than one million people — one in five Lebanese — have been displaced. Villages across the south and Bekaa have been struck repeatedly, with thousands of homes, schools, clinics, and municipal buildings being methodically reduced to rubble. Roads, power stations, and water networks have been systematically targeted, leaving communities without basic services. Hospitals, already strained, are overwhelmed with the wounded. The destruction is not collateral — it is deliberate, systematic, and merciless.
The violence inflicted on the Lebanese people cannot be separated from the wider regional catastrophe. In Gaza, the war continues with relentless ferocity. Children are buried under collapsed buildings, hospitals are bombed, and the very fabric of society is shredded. In the West Bank, escalating pogroms against Palestinian communities, land grabs and mass arrests have intensified displacement and fear, with settlers and soldiers acting with impunity. Together, these crises form a pattern: A systematic Israeli campaign of domination that disregards international law and human dignity.
The United Nations has not remained silent. UN experts have declared: “This is not self-defense. It is a blatant violation of the UN Charter, a deliberate destruction of prospects for peace, and an affront to multilateralism and the UN-based international order.” They warn that Israel’s actions in Lebanon may amount to war crimes, citing indiscriminate bombing of civilian areas and the use of prohibited munitions.
Among the most chilling tactics is the use of white phosphorus munitions. Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have documented repeated airburst deployments over populated areas in southern Lebanon. White phosphorus ignites on contact with oxygen, scattering burning fragments that set homes, farmland, and civilian objects ablaze. Survivors suffer horrific burns, lifelong injuries, and respiratory damage. Farmers watch their orchards and olive groves scorched into wastelands. The environmental scars will last for generations. Under international law, such use in civilian areas is indiscriminate and unlawful — a war crime.
Yet amid the horror, the Lebanese spirit endures. In Beirut, families still gather around dinner tables, sharing stories and laughter. In villages, neighbors open their doors to the displaced, offering shelter and bread. Musicians continue to play, poets continue to write, and children continue to dream. This resilience is not a denial of suffering; it is a declaration that life itself is sacred, and that joy is a weapon against despair.
The international community must not look away. Silence is complicity. The destruction of Lebanon, the genocide in Gaza, and the pogroms in the West Bank are not isolated tragedies. They are interconnected assaults on humanity. To stand with Lebanon is to stand with all oppressed peoples, to affirm that existence is resistance, and to demand justice in the face of impunity.
Lebanon’s people remind us that even in the darkest times, love of life can shine brighter than bombs. Their weddings, their laughter, their music are testaments to resilience. But resilience should not be mistaken for acceptance. They deserve peace, dignity, and the chance to live without fear. The world must act — not tomorrow, not someday, but now.
NOTE: A joint statement issued by United Nations human rights experts on April 15, 2026, condemned Israel’s bombardment of Lebanon. It was published by the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) and echoed across outlets like Truthout and Al Jazeera. Truthout (April 15, 2026) reported that 23 UN experts signed the statement, urging UN member states to halt arms transfers to Israel. Al Jazeera (April 15, 2026) highlighted experts’ call for Israel to cease military operations in Lebanon and for member states to suspend arms transfers.
— Dr. Hind Akar is a Lebanese American and a retired scientist who has resided and worked in Peoria for more than 30 years. Following a technical career in a Peoria global company, she continues to work with multiple scientific and civic organizations on local and international issues, community outreach, education and science.