Gebran tueni daughters of the american revolution

In a speech given on Hezbollah’s 11 November Martyrs’ Day in 2021, the group’s Secretary-General, Hassan Nasrallah, stated that “it was with the blessing of these martyrs” that there exists “passion, nostalgia, love, adoration, psychological solace, and a lively spirit in Lebanon”.[i]

Ideas of ‘martyrdom’ in the Middle East first rose to prominence in academic scholarship in the mid-2000s, when the term became incorporated into the War on Terror zeitgeist, due in part to the perceived “numerous religiously motivated suicide-attacks in conflicts all over the world where the recourse on martyrdom discourses has been made prominent”.[ii] The vast amount of literature on martyrdom in the context of Muslim theologies and societies – its connection to radicalisation, jihad and suicide bombing, the use of the martyr as a weapon, and Western perceptions and receptions to martyrdom as a “an Islamic culture of death” – sought to construct a totalising Islamic martyrdom institution in order to find solutions to the threat of terrorism.[iii]

Yet, contrary to popular studies of radicalisation and extremism, martyrdom is not a priori. An individual does not become a martyr solely through having died and/or suffered, but is constructed as such by the societies, institutions, and other individuals who memorialise them, as part of a continuation of a lineage of centuries of theological and societal memory practice. In Lebanon, a country constituted by diverse ethnic and religious identities with a long history of intra-community conflict, martyrdom continues to be one of the most significant and mobilising carriers of memory in contemporary discourse. Narratives expand and re-shape according to cycles of violence: the martyr as hero, victim, national icon, resistance fighter; the ‘everyday’ man and the holy representative.

Most writings on political Lebanon and memorialisation acknowledge the “walls continually adorned with

At first sight, the convention looked more like a gathering of survivors of Lebanon's worn-out Cedar Revolution.

We are gathered today as one family deeply wounded and still bleeding.

I would like this afternoon to invite you to follow Ghassan Tueni’s statement when he landed at

On December 14, Standing in front of Gebran’s coffin, Ghassan Tueni and Nayla, Gebran’s daughter gave us a chilling lesson of strength and courage.

There is no way we can stop crying if we remain in a mourning state of mind. I cried myself several times in the past few days and everyone I spoke with told me that he or she also cried and sobbed.

If we want to have Ghassan Tueni and Gebrane’s daughter’strenght we need to celebrate Gebran’s life. We need to focus on what Gebran brought to our life and how Gebran continues to be a charismatic Lebanese Leader.

Gebran was born to a family of freedom fighters, of freedom writers, of people who believed in non violence, in dialogue and in democracy. He was born to a family whose only religious community that mattered is the Lebanese community, whose only political party that mattered is what Gebran called on March 14: “The Lebanese Party”.

For Gebran, he always looked at

Gebran always spoke his mind. Gebran never accepted less than the full truth. Gebran never compromised on his principles of respect, of

After President Hariri’s assassination, It was only natural to see Gebran emerging as one, if not the most important leader of the Cedar Revolution. During the past several years, when all the Lebanese were living in fear and were terrorized, when even the most courageous newspapers and TV stations used a system of self-censorship by fear of retaliation, Gebran continued to be the voice of the truth. Through his powerful editorials, he addressed everyone with the same straight language and cha

But the 48-year-old publisher and legislator insisted. And less than 24 hours after his return, he was dead.

“Children never listen to their parents,” said Ghassan Tueni, himself a veteran journalist who turned An-Nahar newspaper into Lebanon’s leading daily.

Just hours before he met his death, Tueni had told his father: “I cannot be a member of the Lebanese parliament while living in France.”

Tueni, arrived in Lebanon on the night of 11 December. The next morning, he left his home to go to his office at An-Nahar headquarters in central Beirut.

But a parked car packed with 40kg of explosives blew up his armoured vehicle as it passed by in Mukhallis, eastern Beirut. He and three others, including his driver and bodyguard, were killed.

Another 32 people were wounded.

Breaking Syrian taboos

Tueni, publisher and general manager of An-Nahar, had been spending most of the last few months in France out of fear for his life after learning in the summer that he was on the top of a hit list.

His troubles may have started in March 2000 when he wrote an article entitled An Open Letter to Dr Bashar al-Assad, who was then expected to succeed his father Hafez al-Assad, who died in June 2000, as Syrian president.

Tueni addressed the younger al-Assad “frankly” as he had put it, saying many Lebanese politicians meeting the future Syrian president had perhaps told him what he wanted to hear, not what he should hear.

“You must realise that many Lebanese are uncomfortable with Syrian policies in Lebanon and with the presence of Syrian troops in our country.

“This does not mean that these people are traitors or collaborators with Israel, as some have said. It means only that these Lebanese have aspirations for sovereignty and independence,” Tueni had written.

Criticising Syria

The letter sparked wide-scale debate in Lebanon at a time when Syr