“He ran up at me, grabbed at my arm, tackled me straight onto the ground, and started reaching into my bag!”
On the night the Lebanese uprising began to unfold, Ayyad El Masri was present among a multitude of people demonstrating in Riad Al Solh Square; it was the night of the 17th of October 2019. Ecstatic to be part of the rally and everything it resembled, he was marching and chanting with the crowd, taking pictures, and enjoying the displays of defiance as well as unity. Ayyad was worried about the valuables he had in his shoulder bag, specifically his passport containing a newly acquired visa, so he persistently checked to make sure everything was in place. Suddenly, he heard screams, “He has a gun! He has a gun!” and within an instant, a security officer rushed and tackled Ayyad straight to the ground. “He must have thought I had a gun or something because I was holding my bag. I mean that is the only explanation I have for what he did.” Ayyad disclosed how he was slammed by his side, shoved to the ground, and unable to clearly breathe due to the amount of teargas and smoke within the square. Ayyad portrays the incident, “He ran up at me, grabbed at my arm, tackled me straight onto the ground, and started reaching into my bag!”
Some civilians who were passing by assisted Ayyad by carrying him away from the smoke and crowd, to somewhere else and in order to help him stabilize; he had suffered bruises on his side and back from the assault. Ayyad assumes that the officer got up and left him lying on the ground, after dredging through the bag to recognize the inexistence of a weapon. Nevertheless, he believes that similar types of degrading treatments and violations are not uncommon among Lebanese security forces; Ayyad explains that they all represent the awful will of the ruling political class.
“The adrenaline and excitement I got from partaking in protests were stronger driving forces than the fear exerted by the security forces,” Ayyad expresses how he continued to participate in protests in which he always commanded a new understanding of the way we perceive Lebanon and the region. “Literally everything in Lebanon; gender issues, youth economic status, migrant workers, human rights, everything is foundationally up to protest”, he critiques many aspects of his country, ranging from the perception of borders to the legitimacy of government institutions.
The protests that Ayyad participated in were never called for by one specific entity or group, but rather through joint efforts by different groups and individuals; and usually peaceful. Ayyad himself does not believe in the use of violence, he explains “I can understand the anger behind some protestors’ use of violence, but inflicting harm on others does not convey our message the way we want.”
“I can’t even explain it. That was, by far, the most dangerous and oppressive day I have ever witnessed”
The demonstration in downtown Beirut on August 8, 2020, which acted as an expression of people’s outrage at the calamity which struck the port and its capital, was the last time El Masri took part in a protest. “I can’t even explain it. That was, by far, the most dangerous and oppressive day I have ever witnessed,” he recalls the violent scene in the capital. Not more than an hour earlier, Ayyad’s friend had been wounded by a live bullet, and now other various terrors were occurring all around Ayyad; including the use of violence, tear gas, bullets, and direct physical assault by security forces. After receiving a capricious call from his friend, warning him about snipers being spotted in multiple buildings, the intensity of the context hit him unexpectedly. He explains that this was the first time the feeling of fear overcame him; “I think that up to this point, before August of 2020, the fear factor in me was minimal, but all the destruction of August 4th and the inhumane treatment by security officers brought out my fear. As if it all hit me at once and created a fear like never before.” Ayyed recalls his final moment as a demonstrator in the Lebanese uprising, “after getting a hold of myself and my stress, I left the square, back home, and that was the last time I protested.”
The magnitude of the inhumane violations he was constantly observing around him had taken its toll on Ayyad’s mental health, which was something he had been trying to be more caring towards, during the past years. He feels as if his experience during the protests in Lebanon set him back a long way, and he considers himself still within the recovery process. The physical scars are gone, but emotional and mental ones are still apparent; “they will surely need more time to remedy ”, he expresses. El Masri recognizes the violations towards his natural rights to security, uncruel treatment, expression and opinion, and social order. However, he would not change anything that happened due to his presumptions, he explains, “because that’s exactly what the ruling class wants. Fear and trauma become too much, I surrender my cause, and I find my ‘safety’ within the confines of a neo liberal system that entraps me with fake safety and money; all while the world is falling apart.” Ayyad does not believe that the government or anybody can provide him with anything to spark joy in him, but rather that it is solely up to him to disconnect, focus on and take care of himself; “as bad as it sounds, I feel like this is the only sense of safety I have been able to feel for a while, even though that is what the ruling class wants”.
“it is an innate fear instilled in me just from being brought up here. I know there’s a higher possibility I will be attacked due to who I am or how I love. That in itself makes things unsafe and dangerous.”
In regards to the safety of vulnerable communities across Lebanese streets and protests, specifically women and members of the LGBT community, Ayyad believes that the considerations and assumptions for those communities are so much more complex, making their participation evidently more dangerous; “the bias exists whether we address it up front or not. Whether we are a specific target or a victim of random abuse, stakes are higher.” Ayyad’s understanding of the society he lives in has conditioned him to anticipate potential threats and traumas; he asserts “it is an innate fear instilled in me just from being brought up here. I know there’s a higher possibility I will be attacked due to who I am or how I love. That in itself makes things unsafe and dangerous.”
