I envy them. They are neither plagued by regret nor by a guilty conscience. There is no perplexity in their actions or the shadow of tiredness in their eyes. Their smiles are plastered on TV screens, with an abundance of joy captured by the flashes of photographers. They are elegant, with an ever-enriched vocabulary of postponement and misguidance. They sometimes wear dark shades to hide the bags under their eyes as they stay awake to protect the citizens' interests. They are candles burning to light the way. They walk rapidly, to give the impression of having many appointments. I envy them. Rarely has a populace been as despised as the Lebanese people, both in times of war and peace; on the way to elections and after the issuance of their results; in forming and fragmenting governments; during and after the presidential elections. Beneath the transparent shroud of democracy, resounding actions of contempt take place. The country turns into a jungle, and the hunters release their greed and traps to catch the ministerial portfolios. It is a shameful and embarrassing bazar. I returned to Lebanon one hundred days after I left it, and nothing has changed. Ask about the government formation, and you will get insulting answers. “We are dealing with the time we have left.” “We are trying to encircle sensitivities.” “We are striving to block all problems.” “We are attempting to reduce the ceiling of demands.” “We are fighting to create rounded corners.” “We are keen on softening stances.” “We are waiting for suggestions and signals.” “The white smoke will be delayed.” It is a whole sea of insults. This makes one wonder how the country remains unprotected in a seism-ridden region, as the Israeli enemy lurks, the international community puts us under scrutiny, and Syria, which has an influence on our security, stability, and economy, has entered a phase of turmoil. We do not demand a national unity government, as the last experience has cauterized us with its chicaneries and its traps, in addition to the national paralysis it has brought. We ask for an ordinary or quasi-ordinary government, with a caretaker in form, even if we know in advance the extent of his impuissance. It is the festival of national contempt. Deliberations and discussions; meetings and contacts; half-truths and half-lies; mines and powder. One of them thinks of his long-term program. Another obsesses about his future after his mandate ends. A third one thinks about his son's interests. A fourth one obsesses about giving the reins of power to his son-in-law. Misguidance is working at full steam, and there are not enough daggers for everyone. Talking about the government formation is like betting on the lottery results. Some names appear, others disappear. Then there are those who lecture about “the art of cooking”. According to them, the government is quietly “simmering”, and all it lacks is the “softening of stances” and catching belated signals. Then comes the screening process. It is a sick country. When Najib Mikati was entrusted with forming the government four months ago, I was under the illusion that the fresh majority, regardless of its flawed birth, certainly carries a vision, a will, or a program as a minimum. I expected that it would support Mikati and facilitate his task in forming a convincing government, especially that it considered that the country's problem lies in the March 14 policy and Saad Hariri's methodology. It is fine for Hariri to lose if the country will win. However, the present governmental scandal heralds sanctions on the country as a whole, rather than on Hariri, for whom circumstances turned his exclusion from the government into the best gift he could receive. The politicians have no right to arrest and torture the country this way. They have no right to close their eyes to the violation of public and private property and the uprooting or destruction of the remaining state foundations. They have no right to let the country hurl toward the abyss without batting an eyelid.
