Rethinking Resilience: Navigating Crisis in Lebanon’s Cultural Sector
Clore Fellow Raghda Allouche’s 2023 provocation paper explores the cultural sector in Lebanon.
Over the past four years or so, Lebanon has been spiralling into what appears to be an endless abyss. Consequently, the cultural sector has weathered a relentless series of shocks that have jeopardised its existence and its ability to provide a sanctuary for free expression, creativity and imagination. These shocks have been exacerbated by chronic underfunding and a complete lack of attention from the Lebanese government towards a sector that plays a distinct role in shaping democratic practices, advancing human rights and envisioning alternative futures.
As we approached the end of 2019, the full impact of a catastrophic economic and financial meltdown became painfully apparent. Over half of the population fell below the poverty line, and most people, including organisations and unions, lost access to their bank deposits, including life savings, pensions and contingency funds. Basic services such as electricity, water and fuel – taken for granted in most parts of the world – became scarce commodities subject to monopolies operating under a black market, and parallel systems run by individuals and groups accountable to no one. Inflation soared to triple-digit percentages, contributing to the halt of imports upon which the country heavily relied due to the lack of local industry and production. This resulted in a severe shortage of raw materials, including specialised equipment and materials for photography, film, music, preservation (thus endangering cultural heritage), and more. All of this was further compounded by a global pandemic and one of the largest non-nuclear explosions in history, which devastated half of the capital Beirut, including cultural organisations, museums and galleries, and claimed the lives of more than 200 people.
For foreign readers, comprehending the realities imposed by these shocks may seem nearly impossible. Visitors to the country today, including Lebanese expatriates, might be tempted to believe that it’s all fabricated – everything appears ‘normal’. At best, they may praise the resilience of the Lebanese people, often likened to the phoenix, the mythical bird that perpetually regenerates and rises from its own ashes. This image of resilience is potent and almost universally celebrated, even esteemed as a desirable quality, particularly in leaders. However, amidst all this resilience, adaptability, and capacity to weather crises of almost caricatural frequency and magnitude, are we inadvertently normalising these uncertainties, turning a blind eye to their root causes? Are we missing opportunities to explore avenues that could lead to more substantial change and meaningful impact? Or, more disconcertingly, are crises and resilience becoming, or re-emerging as, new selling points for Lebanon’s cultural sector, similar to climate issues elsewhere?
Resilience is conventionally understood as the ability to endure adversity, recover from trauma, adapt to changes and rebound from disruptions. It’s an attribute widely celebrated and diligently pursued by individuals and organisations through various self-help and well-being programmes. ‘Resilient leaders’ can inspire and motivate those around them during challenging times, while maintaining a composed demeanour and making sound decisions. In times of crisis, leaders are expected to use these skills and guide others towards recovery. Their success is measured by their ability to restore a sense of normalcy to their organisations and to themselves. However, in the context of a perpetual state of crisis, resilience becomes problematic.
In Lebanon, the prevailing narrative extols resilience, with both political and cultural elites investing heavily in promoting it. Public artworks often celebrate this national pride, embodied by the phoenix. At one point, amidst all the devastation and helplessness, clinging to this symbol and the prospect of rebirth seemed like the country’s sole remaining hope. Fortunately, many voices have risen against this narrative, particularly after the catastrophic explosion, expressing deep disillusionment with the narrative and the tools used to perpetuate it. To many, the phoenix perpetuates an acceptance of systemic failures that it overlooks, leading to its repeated demise. In an era of heightened global tensions and instability, the impending consequences of the climate crisis, new war fronts, mass displacement, and an enduring absence of global and local social justice, it’s crucial to examine resilience not only for its importance but also for its limitations.
Examining existing critiques of resilience can help substantiate why it feels problematic and why it requires a cautious approach. One perspective challenges how resilience places excessive emphasis on individual responsibility, promoting an individualistic approach to developing the skills and abilities needed to withstand shocks. This perspective assumes that all individuals are equally affected by crises, and that everyone has equal access to resources and social networks for developing positive coping mechanisms. It disregards systemic inequalities that can impede such access, including classism, racism, sexism and ableism. By framing resilience as an individual endeavour, there’s a risk of blaming the victim for their inability to cope, limiting the space for collective solutions and solidarity. It also fosters the creation of ‘heroes’ that further perpetuate this skewed narrative. Moreover, the reliance on social networks can be transactional, favouring individuals based on their social status rather than their personal attributes. Finally, this common understanding of resilience can overlook the emotional and psychological toll that crises inflict on individuals and organisations, depending on their pre-crisis vulnerabilities, which may have been exacerbated by systemic failures.
Another critique of resilience focuses on its overemphasis on ‘bouncing back’ or returning to the pre-crisis state. However, this may not always be a desirable or feasible outcome. This became evident during the COVID-19 pandemic and lockdowns, when the excessive focus on returning to normality, alongside pressure for hyper-productivity during the crisis, was heavily questioned. In Lebanon’s case, bouncing back could mean a return to a state of vulnerability or an acceptance of the same injustices that led to the crisis in the first place. This toxic positivity around resilience can, therefore, overlook its negative consequences.
Resilient individuals and organisations may inadvertently become complacent about adversities, neglecting the underlying causes of crises, and focusing on short-term fixes rather than long-term solutions. This crisis management approach can hinder meaningful, impactful and relevant work, especially within the arts and cultural sector, particularly within a context of many (potentially concurrent) crises. Resilience runs the risk of diverting our attention away from the systemic issues that contribute to crises in the first place. For example, in the context of climate change, if leaders primarily focus on building resilience, preparing themselves, their teams and organisations for disasters, or merely reducing their contributions to the impending emergency, they may overlook the need for systemic change to address the root causes. The satisfaction derived from doing the ‘right thing’ may overshadow the imperative to rectify deeper, more fundamental issues.
On the other end of this spectrum lies a more ominous direction – one that exploits crises as opportunities to amass capital, whether financial or cultural. This approach commodifies crises and the imagined resilience as selling points for labour and production, perpetuating a dominant narrative through self-victimisation. In Lebanon, where there is no public funding for the cultural sector and a lack of cultural policies at national and local levels, the sector relies heavily on individual and personal efforts, often seeking foreign (mainly Western) support and catering to that gaze. The mission of building resilience can become a crucial source of funding, with resilience and crises inseparable in the narrative, reproduced endlessly. Some artists and cultural workers increasingly find themselves producing and marketing perpetual trauma. This narrative of victimhood resonates with donors, especially those who have played a role as saviours in a country undergoing deterioration, without questioning how this victimisation might hinder the emergence of alternative solutions or their serious consideration.
In times of crisis and in the face of fear, our reactions often boil down to fight or flight. While our energy is directed at overcoming the crisis, we tend to neglect everything else. Overcoming the impact of the crisis remains crucial on both individual and group levels but should not overshadow the need for collective action. Vulnerability and precarity, exacerbated by crises, must be confronted head-on without delay, rather than being postponed under the pretext that ‘we are doing okay for now’, as the respite before the next crisis strikes will likely be brief. In an age of perpetual, monumental failures across a multitude of social, political, economic and environmental issues at local, national and global levels, the adaptability and flexibility that are typically seen as positive attributes run the risk of becoming barriers to pushing for change or falling into the trap of self-victimisation. The intention here is not to dismantle resilience, but to deconstruct it and offer a new perspective rooted in solidarity and collective responsibility, one that challenges existing structures and proposes new ones. ‘Resilient leaders’ should be aware of these critiques and develop adaptive strategies that help individuals and organisations cope with future challenges, while acknowledging that the system we operate in has repeatedly failed us and will likely continue to do so.
*This piece was written in Spring 2023 and submitted to Clore Leadership in June of that year
