Amid Lebanon Blackouts, Dark Comedy Offers Glimmer of Light

Buildings are seen at night during a power cut in some areas in Beirut, Lebanon July 6, 2020. Picture taken July 6, 2020. (Reuters)
Buildings are seen at night during a power cut in some areas in Beirut, Lebanon July 6, 2020. Picture taken July 6, 2020. (Reuters)
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Amid Lebanon Blackouts, Dark Comedy Offers Glimmer of Light

Buildings are seen at night during a power cut in some areas in Beirut, Lebanon July 6, 2020. Picture taken July 6, 2020. (Reuters)
Buildings are seen at night during a power cut in some areas in Beirut, Lebanon July 6, 2020. Picture taken July 6, 2020. (Reuters)

Without electricity for air conditioning or fuel to reach the beach, two comedians are keeping cool in crisis-hit Lebanon by splashing around in an inflatable pool - in their living room.

“When the generator comes on, we’ll crank up the light to get a tan,” one of the women quips, part of a new wave of Lebanese opting to laugh in the face of disaster.

As the economic downturn deepens, Lebanese are increasingly turning to caustic comedy to mine humor from the everyday chaos, be it the rampant power cuts, hours-long lines at gas stations or the 90% currency devaluation.

“We’re showing how far we’ve fallen,” said Nathalie Masri, an advertising executive who launched the “Coffee Break” page with friend and associate Nadyn Chalhoub in 2018 with the tagline “Sarcasm is our means of survival”.

Their first posts were mostly social commentary, but when Lebanon’s financial collapse began a year later, the pair turned to the widespread daily shortages that shape daily life.

“Why do you need cooking gas? Just rub two rocks together and you’ll make a fire,” said Chalhoub in a May 2020 video.

Their “Lebanese 2021 Starter Pack” came with a logbook to track planned electricity outages in rationing and a generous handful of “anti-anxiety pills from abroad” - as most Lebanese pharmacies can no longer afford to stock them.

No laughing matter
Nor are they alone in finding humor in the new reality, with Lebanese social media awash with gallows humor.

The anonymous author of @Lebaneselira - whose Twitter bio declares “I’m collapsing” - posts quips about the lira’s volatile exchange rate on the black market.

WhatsApp chats, too, are filled with sardonic asides: jokes about the new “fashion trend” for half-ironed shirts amid all the power cuts or mock pride at Lebanon achieving zero carbon emissions as empty tanks keep cars home.

In a mock tutorial on Instagram, Farid Hobeiche shows his 156,000 followers how to turn fridges into extra clothes closets since blackouts had rendered them useless for food.

“It’s not about inspiration; it’s reality,” Hobeiche told the Thomson Reuters Foundation from his hometown of Ghazir, north of Beirut.

More than a jokey escape, he said the posts offer people a collective coping mechanism in a crisis the World Bank classifies as one of the worst in 200 years.

“I’m not doing comedy to make people laugh so hard that they pass out... But to make them feel hope - when they see someone still standing, still joking,” he said.

Countless studies show how humor helps the brain cope with hardship - even for Holocaust survivors or prisoners of war.

A 2014 study published in the Journal of Consumer Research found that “humorous complaining” could help people by reframing dire situations in a less negative way.

“When we share the pain and the reality, we cry together, but we can also laugh together at the absurdity of it,” said Shaden Esperanza, a stand-up comedian.

She has even joked about the exorbitant cost of imported feminine hygiene products, a subject that can still be seen as taboo in Lebanon.

“Viagra is subsidized by the government, but not tampons? I’ll gush blood all over you,” Esperanza repeated to the Thomson Reuters Foundation.

Darker days ahead
But with Lebanon’s economy in freefall, even its most playful observers feel it resembles a race to the bottom.

“What I used to be able to make fun of two weeks ago, I can no longer laugh at today - because the crisis is getting so much worse,” said Hobeiche.

Posting online may soon not even be an option, as shortages of fuel at telecomms centers have forced Lebanon’s state internet provider to cut connectivity in swathes of the country.

“I guess I’ll have to send my CV around,” he ribbed.

The “Coffee Break” hosts spoke to the Thomson Reuters Foundation from an office with no electricity, through a cellphone with a precariously dwindling battery.

The pair said they were considering working abroad as power and internet cuts had derailed work deadlines, while other shortages had prompted health worries for their young children.

“We want to be able to write, ‘I hope this email finds you well,’” joked Chalhoub.

“And have the email actually send,” Masri filled in.



A Family, a Bride, a Domestic Worker: The Toll of Israeli Strikes on Lebanon

 Smoke billows over southern Lebanon following an Israeli strike, amid ongoing cross-border hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, as seen from Tyre, Lebanon September 25, 2024. (Reuters)
Smoke billows over southern Lebanon following an Israeli strike, amid ongoing cross-border hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, as seen from Tyre, Lebanon September 25, 2024. (Reuters)
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A Family, a Bride, a Domestic Worker: The Toll of Israeli Strikes on Lebanon

 Smoke billows over southern Lebanon following an Israeli strike, amid ongoing cross-border hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, as seen from Tyre, Lebanon September 25, 2024. (Reuters)
Smoke billows over southern Lebanon following an Israeli strike, amid ongoing cross-border hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, as seen from Tyre, Lebanon September 25, 2024. (Reuters)

Ahead of Lebanese engineer Maya Gharib's wedding planned for next month, excited relatives were arranging for her dress to be picked up.

But on Monday, 23-year-old Gharib, her two sisters and their parents were killed in an Israeli strike on their home in a suburb of the southern city of Tyre, said Gharib's brother Reda, the only surviving member of the family.

Israel says Monday's strikes targeted Hezbollah weapons. Lebanon's health ministry said the attacks left more than 550 people dead, including at least 50 children and 98 women, in Lebanon's bloodiest day since the end of the 1975-90 Civil War.

A screenshot shared with Reuters shows a message sent by a relative to the dress shop after the Gharib family died: "The bride was martyred."

"They were just sitting at home, and then the house was targeted," Reda Gharib, who moved to Senegal last year for work, told Reuters in a phone call.

The family were buried in a rushed funeral the next day, with few people in attendance due to the danger of strikes. Reda was unable to fly in as most flights had been cancelled amid ongoing Israeli attacks and rocket fire from Hezbollah.

His father was a retired veteran of Lebanon's army, a cross-sectarian force funded by the US and other countries and widely seen as source of unity in Lebanon. His sisters were all in their 20s.

"We are a nationalistic family with no party affiliation, though of course we stand with everyone who resists aggression," Reda Gharib said, noting no member of the family was a member of Hezbollah.

But he says that now, having lost his family, he wanted Hezbollah to continue fighting Israel "until victory" and not to accept any negotiations.

'INDISCRIMINATE'

Hezbollah began firing rockets at Israel on Oct. 8, the day after the Palestinian group Hamas attacked southern Israel, declaring a "support front" for Palestinians.

The clashes escalated sharply since last week, with hundreds killed and thousands injured in Lebanon as Israel wages an air campaign that has seen strikes in most parts of the country.

In the days since the chaos unleashed by the Israeli strikes on Monday, other reports have emerged of families with many members killed.

In the southern town of Hanouiyeh, an Israeli strike killed eight members of one family and a live-in domestic worker from Gambia, relatives said.

Mohammad Saksouk, whose brother Hassan was among those killed, told Reuters the strike hit a building next to the family home, which collapsed onto theirs.

He said the family had nothing to do with Hezbollah and criticized the Israelis for "indiscriminate" attacks while also questioning why Lebanon had been dragged into a battle that Hezbollah says is in support of Palestinians.

"Now, we're homeless. We are living in the streets," he said via phone from a temporary shelter. "Before, we were living completely normal lives. Who will give us back our homes?"

The victims included Hassan Saksouk, his adult children Mohammad and Mona, Mohammad's wife Fatima and their 9-month-old daughter Rima, as well as Mona's three children, all under nine years old.

Anna, the Gambian worker in her early 30s, also perished.

The coastal town of Saksakieh saw 11 civilians killed on Monday, including six women and two children, according to Mayor Ali Abbas, who said there were direct strikes on homes.

"These are civilian homes, they have nothing to do with any kind of military installation," Abbas told Reuters.