The Maronite Cause

When talking about self-determination for Christians in Lebanon, some opposition comes in the form of an accusation: “You are dividing the Lebanese nation.”

But does a singular Lebanese nation truly exist?

Many people in such a discussion confuse the concepts of state and nation. It’s an easy mistake to make because most states in the world are nation-states: political entities composed of a single nation.

A nation is generally considered to be a cohesive people, bound by shared narrative, culture, and identity. So is that the case of Lebanon?

What makes a nation?

To evaluate whether Lebanon constitutes a true nation, it is essential to draw on established academic definitions from key theorists to understand what makes a nation.

Ernest Renan, in his 1882 lecture “What is a Nation?”, defined a nation as a “soul” or “spiritual principle” constituted by two elements:

• a shared past of memories and sacrifices,
• and a present-day consent or “daily plebiscite” to live together.

Renan emphasized that nations are not determined by race, language, religion, or geography alone but by collective will and selective forgetting of historical divisions.

Benedict Anderson, in his seminal work Imagined Communities (1983), portrayed the nation as an “imagined political community“. He says imagined because members, who will never meet most others, envision themselves as part of a horizontal comradeship; it is limited, sovereign, and facilitated by print capitalism and standardized languages.

A more critical approach to nations was expressed by Ernest Gellner, who viewed nations as modern inventions tied to industrialization. According to Gellner, the modernization of culture through industrialization created homogeneous high cultures through state education systems, replacing agrarian diversity with standardized national identities.

Similar to Renan but taking a more ethnocentric approach, Anthony Smith argued that nations build on pre-modern ethnic cores, drawing from shared myths, historical memories, cultural symbols, and territories to foster collective identity.

Applying these definitions, we can quickly see that Lebanon as a whole does not qualify as a nation. It lacks Renan’s “daily plebiscite,” as evidenced by persistent sectarian strife and the absence of a unified will to coexist beyond pragmatic alliances. Lebanese communities often prioritize their own survival over national solidarity.

Anderson’s imagined community is fractured: Lebanese citizens do not share a common narrative but rather several competing sectarian ones, amplified by media and education systems that reinforce communal boundaries rather than national ones.

Gellner’s modernist lens highlights Lebanon’s failure: even with high education levels, Lebanese communities maintain distinct cultures, habits, and even different mannerisms and daily behaviors.

Smith’s ethno-symbolic approach also falls short for Lebanon. While the territory has ancient roots, there’s no overarching ethnic core that unites the sects. Even shared symbols like the cedar tree become controversial during a crisis, and are often overshadowed by communal myths and sectarian symbols.

Instead of one nation, Lebanon can only be understood as an artificial construct overlaying four primary organic “nations”: the Druze, Christians, Shiites, and Sunnis. Let’s delve into that for a bit.

Historical foundations of Lebanese nations

Any serious claim about the nationhood of Lebanon has to start by examining the historical origins of the current republic and understanding the history of the different communities that made it.

Unlike ancient nation-states such as Egypt or Persia, the territory now known as Lebanon lacked a unified political or cultural identity before the 20th century.

The region was historically part of broader empires: the Phoenician city-states, the Hellenic world, Roman provinces, Byzantine territories, the Umayyad Caliphate, the Mamluk state, and later the Ottoman Empire. Under these conditions, local identities were tied to geographic, religious, and tribal affiliations rather than a national whole. Under Ottoman rule from the 16th century onwards, Mount Lebanon enjoyed semi-autonomy under Druze and Maronite emirs, but this was not a “Lebanese” entity in the modern sense. It was a feudal arrangement balancing sectarian interests amid imperial oversight. At the time, Tripoli, Sidon, and Bekaa were all parts of different wilayas with their own historic paths and internal dynamics, and cultures. Tripoli was more in tune with Homs and Aleppo, Bekaa was part of the Damascus hinterland, and Sidon and Tyre were competing with Jerusalem and wrestling Egyptian influence and sectarian policies.

The modern state of Lebanon emerged only in 1920 under the French Mandate, to create a viable homeland for Christians. It’s important to note that such a step was equally out of desperation as much as out of hope, as kafno (the WWI famine in Mount Lebanon) had killed half of the entire mountain population and impoverished and displaced the rest at that time.

This expansion diluted the Christian majority and sowed seeds of discord by forcing disparate communities into a single polity without a shared national ethos. At the time, Sunni and Shiite areas preferred to join Syria or identify with the larger arab nations and causes, as shown by the events that followed from 1920 till the start of the civil war of 1975.

Needless to say, since its inception, this republic didn’t know a single decade of peace. Sectarian power sharing exploded periodically, in 1958, 1969, 1975-1990, and 2008. Needless to explain to any Lebanese that the Republic has been in a permanent state of crisis for 100 years, entrenching divisions and preventing the emergence of a transcendent Lebanese identity till today.

Regardless of war and crises, some will argue that after 100 years together in one country, there’s definitely more common ground now that makes a foundation for a unified nation. But is there?

Is Lebanon becoming a nation?

At the heart of our fragmented landscape, there’s definitely a shared Lebanese identity that offers a common experience in language, pop culture, food, and lifestyle. Most of all, the Lebanese have a collective hardship in common as they suffer from the realities of a failed state from north to south.

But are these commonalities enough to make a nation? Sharing a love for tabboule is different than having a common narrative that breaks through sectarian stories. Sharing a crisis is not the same as having a collective will to share a future.

The relationship between Lebanese sects is like a husband and wife who love the same TV shows, enjoy the same dishes, and have the same circle of friends, but have contradictory values in life and lack love and understanding. When you encounter such a relationship, your first natural reaction would be knowing that it is already doomed.

In contrast, the four major communities that make up Lebanon, function as organic nations with their own structures and internal logic. Each of these groups has historically operated with varying degrees of autonomy, shaping their cultures in isolation or opposition to one another. Viewed through academic lenses, they exhibit stronger national characteristics than the Lebanese state.

These communities share much more than religion and faith within their ranks. Each of these communities possesses its own distinct faith, historical narrative, cultural practices, social dynamics, and sense of identity, forged over centuries of autonomy, conflict, and external influences.

Like other nations, they each have their own geographies:

• social (main demographic presence),
• and holy (culturally or religiously significant).

In each area where a sect is a majority, identity and daily life are self-contained within the values and social system of the sect. We can see this clearly in areas like Shouf, Tripoli, South Lebanon, and Northern Mountains.

Each organic nation has distinct social hierarchies and dynamics, different fertility rates, and its own collective values. Most of all, they each have a distinct political culture and governance dynamics that produce different politics on the national level.

Many differences between Lebanese sects are inconsequential, like diverse wedding ceremonies and local dialects. Some, however, have direct and far-reaching cultural and political impacts. The narratives, fears, and hopes of each community translate into choices in foreign and domestic politics that are at odds with each other. Sect dynamics are also often influenced by external trends and events beyond Lebanese borders, which wouldn’t be possible if Lebanon were indeed one nation.

So Lebanon is not a nation, and is not in the process of becoming one either. Historically and in the current reality, Lebanese nationalism does not exist; it’s often just extremist Maronite nationalism or empty rhetoric.

Some will admit this reality but will object to it. They will say something like this: “if we drop confessionalism and build proper institutions, sectarianism will disappear, and a Lebanese nation will take form”. Let’s examine that one last claim before concluding our essay.

The illusion of future unity

For many “patriots”, the Lebanese nation is not something that exists now but something to be created in the future, something to strive for.

The proponents of this idea, however, do not have a way to make such an ambitious transition. When pressed for the “how”, they will resort to “ifs” and “shoulds”, which are two useless words in realpolitik.

They will often defer to an imaginary strong man or a non-existent secular party that will suddenly sweep in and straighten the republic. Some will even have a more naive hope that one day “people will wake up” and ditch their sectarian belonging and embrace the light of Lebanonism.

This naive view thinks that sectarianism comes from a lack of awareness – that it is some sort of ignorance that should be corrected through mass brainwashing (aka state-enforced education). One question is rarely asked, though, which is why are people “sectarian” in the first place? Why do Lebanese communities distrust one another?

The naive will confuse cause and effect: they think sectarianism is the result of corrupt leaders and outdated institutions, instead of the other way around. In truth, corruption and high levels of sectarian tensions are the results, and not the cause, of the political system. In its turn, the sectarian political system is the result of forced cohabitation between different nations/sects.

The consociational power sharing logic of the Lebanese Republic is based on a permanent state of cross-sectarian bargains. At the top, vetoes and extra constitutional power (like an armed militia) tilt the balance and rule the day. Policy is created compromised at the top or not created at all.

The centralist political system is an engine of distrust, paralysis, corruption, and dysfunction.

The second problem generated by such a system is that the rights, dignity, and freedoms of each sect, all become subject to bargains. Some nationalists might accept that the system is dysfunctional but will suggested removing sectarian power-sharing completely as a solution. Needless to say, under a sectarian reality, such a removal only subjects the system to majoritarian domination. Instead of creating a unified nationhood, it would fan existential fears and take sectarian tensions to unprecedented levels, instead of eliminating them.

Ironically, the best way to reduce sectarian tensions is by acknowledging the reality of the four organic Lebanese nations. In Lebanon, we like praising diversity while refusing to integrate it properly into our political system. The political class insists instead on a centralized shell of a state that never moves an inch forward.

The only real way to let diversity breathe for real is to enable these diverse communities to manage their affairs and have a real say in their future, without one trying to dominate the others.

The paradox is this: the only way of possibly overcoming confessionalism is by embracing it. When each community is secure in its rights and way of life, existential fears and sectarian tensions decline. When sects are not fighting over the corpse of a failed state, they will have to become accountable to their own choices and their voter base instead of blaming it on others. When both government and citizens belong to the same nation, accountability can move forward without sectarian vetoes and calculations. When policy is born out of communal needs instead of cross-sectarian bargains, governance can become competent again.

The only way forward is dismantling the centralized political system and moving to ethno-geographic federalism or full partition. Anything less than that is a waste of time that repeats the definition of insanity: “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”.