In 1986, I was waiting, along with many youths of my age, on the streets of Cyprus’ capital, Nicosia, for a visa that would take me away from Lebanon, where blind hatred was decimating the Lebanese and annihilating all signs of life in the country.

I was reading the prophecies of an editorial written by then-editor-in-chief of French-speaking Magazine Charles Abu Adal: “The youths are those who have the capacity and the will to build the nation and its economy. They are emigrating, and they are depressed. Only those who consider war their profession will remain in Lebanon.”

More than three decades have gone by since this editorial was written, and I wonder – as I skim through today’s papers or when I hear Lebanese politicians speaking – whether Abu Adal’s prophecy has not proven true after all.

Thirty years on, I am depressed when hearing Tawhid Movement leader Wiam Wahhab explain to us his passion for Germany’s policy because “it burned the Jews,” knowing that this amounts to the most blatant form of disdain for the sanctity of life. Does this man who hails from Jahiliyya (a town name that also conveniently refers to the pre-Islamic “state of ignorance”) know that Nazism would have had the same fate in store for him and his ancestors had it won the war? And I wonder: Can we build a nation with the likes of Wiam Wahhab and Nasser Qandil? The answer is: Absolutely not.

I also get in this depressed state when I hear journalist Ibrahim al-Amin contemptibly addressing the March 14 forces, which represent the majority of the Lebanese people, in those terms: “It is what it is, whether you like it or not.” Here, I realize that journalism is no longer an honest profession based on gathering news, checking its credibility and analyzing it objectively, and that it is impossible to build a nation with this breed of people.

However, I am most hopelessly depressed when former Minister Michel Samaha looks down onto us from his pedestal and nervously hands out lessons in patriotism and loyalty, knowing that he dubs as Syria’s ambassador in Lebanon is spite of Ali Abdel Karim Ali’s official nomination for the job and that he has done so on several occasions.

This covers the written press. As for the audiovisual media, this state of events is most obvious with each televised appearance by the champions of rejectionism and steadfastness with their strings of threats or swearwords and insults, as though the inspired leader cannot but address the Lebanese people in general, and his followers in particular, in this tone of screaming and insults.

I do not know whether the majority of the audience is pleased or provoked by what they are hearing. But what I do know is that all this talk does not help to build communication bridges between the various factions of a Lebanese society that is fractured to the point of collapsing. Rather, it drives those factions further apart, fuelling instinctive reactions and tensions up to a point where reason will no longer be able to prevent hatred from boiling over, especially since a nation is not built by hate-filled people or by those whose principles constantly change according to their personal ambitions.

There are undoubtedly some in Lebanon who speak with the voice of reason and disagree with others wisely, but is anyone of us listening to them? I mention former Speaker Hussein Husseini, Shia cleric Ali al-Amin, former MP Nassib Lahoud, former Minister Jihad Azour, and journalists Ziad Majed and Hazem al-Amin, so that it is not said afterwards that the Lebanese had no other choice but the bad ones they made.

Indeed, the nation envisioned by the aforementioned people and many others like them does not shut anyone out. It is wide enough to welcome all things regardless of their differences. It does not shout, threaten or pretend to have the absolute undisputable truth.

The question is: Will there be a day when I will be able to write that Charles Abu Adal was wrong and that only those who love wars have left this country?

This article is a translation of the original, which appeared on the NOW Arabic site on July 21, 2010