“Lebanon, the land of exile”… Is there nothing left for the Lebanese diaspora from the homeland except their nickname?

Lebanon: A Nation at the Crossroads of Exile and Identity

As the plane slowly distanced itself from Paris and approached Beirut, I could no longer see my city, my France. Instead, Beirut came into view—a foreign yet strangely familiar city, beautiful from above. But was it just as beautiful from below? With my stomach tight and heart heavy, I watched this capital unfold beneath me, knowing that Beirut never truly leaves you, whether you are arriving or departing. Years later, people would tell me:

“Beirut clings to your skin, it runs through your blood.”

A Story Shared by All Lebanese: To Leave, Stay, or Return?

My story is not just mine—it is the story of every Lebanese who has ever faced the impossible choice of leaving, staying, or returning. Born and raised in Europe, I belong to the Lebanese diaspora, a community that has expanded with every war, occupation, economic crisis, and disaster.

• Our ancestors fled famine.
• Our parents escaped the war of 1975, the Israeli and Syrian occupations, and the 2006 war.
• Our generation continues to leave, driven away by economic collapse and political corruption.

They all left, promising themselves they would return after their studies, after their first job, after their first child. But the truth? Most never come back.

Rebuilding, Yet Never Bringing Its People Back

In the 1990s, Beirut was rebuilt.
Buildings stood tall again.
Streets were repaired.
Jasmine was planted in the alleys.
The country reconnected.

But how many Lebanese actually returned?

📌 One million Lebanese left during the war, yet Beirut’s reconstruction did not bring them back. The expatriates who left during the war remained scattered across the world, their hearts tied to a land that no longer welcomed them back.

Then came August 4, 2020.

In a single minute, the Beirut Port explosion caused the damage of 15 years of war. Even those who had miraculously returned left once again, this time under the watchful gaze of the corrupt ruling class. This was no longer voluntary emigration—it was permanent exile.

A country without hope, still lost in the nostalgia of its golden past, unable to recognize that everything needs to be rebuilt from the ground up.

Lebanon Is Being Emptied of Its Bloodline

How can Lebanon bring back those who have spent a lifetime abroad?

They marry foreign spouses, raise children in different cultures, and when the next storm comes, they plant their roots elsewhere. The deeper those roots grow, the harder it becomes for them to ever return.

📌 Lebanese in Latin America left in the 19th century, and today, all that remains of their Lebanese identity is a family name. Generation after generation, integration erases origins—a process Lebanon is experiencing once again today.

The country is losing its people, its talents, and its future.
It is drifting back toward its past, locked in cycles of destruction.
The corrupt political system continues to betray the Lebanese nation.

And yet, what kind of country forces its people to want to be Lebanese, while living anywhere but Lebanon?

A Nation Worth Fighting For

To rebuild Lebanon, we need to:

Eliminate the ruling warlords who have drained the nation of hope.
Strengthen Lebanese identity and fight against sectarianism.
Ensure the right to education, empowering future generations.
Allow Lebanese women to pass on their nationality to their children.
Unite under one flag, beyond religious and political divisions.

📢 Being Lebanese should not be about religion.
📢 To be Lebanese means to embrace diversity—Christian, Muslim, Druze, and even Jewish.

But is love for Lebanon enough to keep the nation alive?

Or will we soon witness the extinction of the Lebanese identity?

A Choice Between Exile or Death?

John F. Kennedy once said:

“Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”

Yet, how can we ask this of our people, when Lebanon does nothing for them?

🚨 The greatest danger is not war or poverty—it is the loss of its people.

When I see Lebanese excelling abroad, I do not feel pride—I feel sorrow. Because I still believe Lebanon is more than a suspended dream, that it has a future beyond exile and despair.

But unless we act now, we may wake up one day to find that Lebanon has lost its people forever.

💔 And a nation without its people… is no nation at all.