"One thing that struck me, during these days of emergency and pain, was seeing how people started helping each other, even though they belong to different communities. Even though some are Christians and others are Muslims."
This is how Fadi Bejani, the coordinator of our projects in Lebanon, responds to the question "Have you seen any sign of hope in these dark days?" What struck him the most was seeing how, in desperation, the cultural and religious differences that have torn his country apart for years have faded, giving rise to a virtuous circle of closeness and solidarity.
It is an interesting point to reflect on, especially in the case of Lebanon: a country intrinsically complex from a religious and social point of view, a melting pot of numerous religious groups where the Christian and Muslim communities have not always found peaceful coexistence.
Tensions that come from afar
The fragile balance of Lebanon has been repeatedly shattered by internal conflicts and tragic episodes of violence, which are crucial to keep in mind in order to understand the current tensions. The civil war that devastated the country from 1975 to 1990 continues to influence relations between the various communities today, and the tensions that surface in Lebanon often stem from similar unresolved historical traumas. In particular, some members of the Christian community perceive Muslim refugees in Lebanon – largely Syrians and Palestinians – as a threat to their identity and security; this leads to discrimination and, at times, episodes of violence.
However, not all Christian-Muslim relations in Lebanon are characterized solely by tensions. In recent years, we at Pro Terra Sancta have sought to promote projects involving both the Christian and Muslim communities, fostering solidarity and collaboration on common issues such as education, assistance to needy families, and the protection of shared cultural heritage.
Working to survive together
Even today, during the emergency, one of the priorities remains fostering social integration to make aid more numerous and effective. In a moment when action is needed to provide half a million displaced people with access to essential goods, we cannot allow old sectarian tensions to take over.
At the moment, requests for help in Lebanon are steadily increasing: waves of people continue to migrate from the south to Beirut, and the resources available to the reception centers are beginning to dwindle, as are the available spaces. “It is essential to remember that we are dealing with people who have lost everything and are living in extremely difficult conditions,” explains Fadi. “In a 25-square-meter room, up to 20 people live together; tension is inevitable, especially when you consider that these are people who have lost their homes, their families, everything, and do not know what will become of them.”
The situation raises the pressing issue of psychological support. The need is not only to meet the material needs of the displaced – and to do so in the long term, which requires access to resources that currently seem impossible to secure – but also to accompany people, especially children, in understanding and processing the terrible trauma they are undergoing without being able to do anything about it.
The importance of psychological support
For this purpose, Pro Terra Sancta has initiated a series of psychological support activities, primarily aimed at children: "Many children have lost family members, neighbors, friends; there are many families who don't know where some of their relatives are, having lost track of them. Many children have seen missiles, they have looked danger in the eye and still see it," explains Tatiana Moubarak, a psychologist at the Franciscan Care Center, now dedicated to providing psychological assistance to refugee families and children.
The trauma experienced by the victims of the recent emergency is evident, and children, in particular, are suffering the most, as they are less equipped to cope with the horrors of war. One of them, for example, shared his experience: "Every day I heard missiles falling and saw black smoke. At first, I was terrified. I remember very well the first time I heard a missile fall... It was far away, but I could still see the smoke. You don't always see the smoke, but the sound, you hear that constantly."
"What we do here is work on their emotions: we help them express these emotions, to try to cope with an extremely difficult situation," explains Tatiana. "The children are angry, frustrated, they want to go home even though many no longer have a home. We try to help them as much as we can: we listen to them, provide them with help, advice, and suggest strategies to adapt and try to feel better."
Through listening sessions, school lessons, and activities such as drawing and group play, we are trying to raise these children in an environment that, even under the bombs, within a school turned into a reception center, can resemble as closely as possible a healthy and happy context.
In this, Christians and Muslims are united: "Our centers are in predominantly Christian areas, and the refugees are almost all Muslims," Fadi explains, "and all the Christians are helping them. To me, this is really important: it's a hope for the future of the country. Of course, it's not like this everywhere; there are some shelters that only accept Christians, but they are a minority. Overall, there is an interreligious solidarity, and that is something fundamental for building a country that can, in the future, aspire to peace."
