What happened in the match between the “Al-Hikma” and “Al-Riyadi” clubs at the “Al-Manara” stadium should not be treated as a passing incident or a public act of blasphemy that will soon end. The insults that were chanted in the stands were not just obscene words that went beyond the bounds of decency, but rather served as a warning reminding the Lebanese that the civil war, despite decades having passed since its end, has not completely left the minds and hearts of some of its people.
What is painful is that Lebanon paid a heavy price to turn that page. Tens of thousands of victims fell, hundreds of thousands were displaced, and entire generations paid the price for divisions, wrong bets, and blind fanaticism.
These sacrifices were supposed to be a final lesson to everyone that there is no winner in internal wars, and that the homeland is the biggest loser whenever fanaticism triumphs over reason.
But what appeared in “Al-Manara,” and the scene may be repeated in “Ghazir,” suggests that the reconciliation that was achieved after the war remained, to a large extent, a political reconciliation rather than a societal reconciliation.
The fighting was stopped, but the frankness process was not completed. Institutions returned to work, but the collective memory remained burdened by contradictory narratives and mutual concerns. For this reason, sometimes a sporting, political, or media event is sufficient for some old instincts to resurface.
The most dangerous thing about insults is not their direct content, but rather the messages hidden behind them. It reflects the continued view of the other as an opponent, not a partner, and a competitor who must be eliminated, not respected.
This mentality is the same that led Lebanon in previous stages to disaster, and it is the same that today hinders the establishment of a strong state in which all its people feel that they are equal in rights and duties.
The irony is that these manifestations are exploding at a time when the Lebanese need the highest levels of national solidarity. The country faces fateful challenges, from the repercussions of wars and Israeli attacks to economic, immigration, and reconstruction crises. All of this is supposed to push towards strengthening national unity, not towards restoring the language of division, which experience has proven to be a dead end.
Hence, the responsibility does not fall on the fans alone. Sports clubs are required to be schools of citizenship before they can be factories of championships.
The media is called upon to reject all inflammatory speech, regardless of its source. As for the state, it must realize that building civil peace does not occur only through agencies and laws, but rather through education, culture, and the creation of a common national memory that transcends narrow alignments.
“Al-Hikma” and “Al-Riyadi” have, over many years, been a symbol of fine sporting competition, and a source of pride for Lebanese basketball, which has been able to unite the Lebanese more than politics often did. Therefore, the insult does not affect the two clubs alone, but rather affects the idea that they represent, the idea that the Lebanese are capable of disagreement without hostility, and of competing without hatred.
What happened at Al-Manara should be turned into an opportunity for national review. Wars do not truly end until the last psychological barrier between the people of one nation falls. Peace is not complete unless respect for others becomes part of daily culture, not just a slogan raised on special occasions.
The most important lesson is that Lebanon will not be built by wounded memory, but by common will. It will not be protected by nervous slogans, but rather by a firm conviction that diversity is a strength, not a threat, and that partnership is an inevitable destiny. Until this awareness takes hold, every similar incident will continue to remind us of a painful truth, which is that the war ended in the streets a long time ago, but it has not yet ended, it seems, in some souls.
