On a rainy Saturday evening in Taipei as I was going about my daily errands, I suddenly found myself thrust back into strong emotions and high stress when I first read news of Hamas’ attack on Israel.  The hours that followed the evening of October 7th felt like subsequent punches in the stomach as I lost sleep and appetite over the increasingly gruesome headlines I was reading.  The loss of civilian life, combined with the terror and violence that ensued was deeply saddening, and like many around the world, I was greatly affected by the initial deaths of such a staggering number of Israelis, young and old, quickly followed by several times the number of Palestinian deaths in Gaza.

I navigated headlines and tried to talk to those around me about what was going on so close to home, in a region I have spent years being passionate about, advocating for a people whose very naming invokes controversy.  My background and my beliefs surrounding the long history of the occupation of Palestine, and its effects on Lebanon, underpin my experiences in observing media and in-person rhetoric from all the way here in Taiwan.  Every day, bits of news come out that cause people around the world great levels of grief and anxiety: videos depicting the rampage of Hamas are reaching Israeli eyes, while my social media shows me the distress of those in the Gaza Strip experiencing incessant daily bombing.  Voices are fighting to urge action, and a media and diplomacy war is indeed in full swing as what is often called the ‘Israel-Hamas War’ (but more accurately termed a genocide) rages on a traumatised population.

Current news but also long-drawn history has already shown that we as Lebanese are not excluded from occurrences south of our border.  The formation of the State of Israel in 1948 caused the infamous ‘Nakba’, or ‘catastrophe’ in Arabic, where 750,000 native inhabitants of Palestine were violently expelled from their land and into surrounding countries, with a large part crossing the border into Lebanon.  There, they stayed with no hope of return for generations, living in large refugee camps to this day. With one million Palestinian refugees still living in Lebanon today and (to Israelis’ great dismay) who have not given up hope of returning to their homeland, public sentiment even within our borders has been strong and volatile in recent weeks. 

Being here in Taiwan amongst a population who, for the most part and through no real fault of their own, understand very little of what I and others are going through on a personal level and what my region is going through on a macro-level, has been a slight challenge while also being a refuge from the stress those in the region are enduring 24/7.  Throughout the daze I have lived in in the past weeks - jumping from disassociation to near-unbearable feelings of helplessness, I have collected some interesting snippets of conversations expressed to me by locals and Taiwan residents in recent weeks (and even before then) that I believe a short reflection on is worthwhile.  

“Are you worried? But isn’t there already a war in Lebanon?”

Of course I am worried.  There has been an escalation of violence between Hezbollah and the IDF at our southern border and serious potential for further escalation into war.  While grieving and shuddering at the atrocities that have passed, I also remain anxious on the prospect of Lebanon being dragged - against the will of the majority of its population, who have suffered through four years of internal economic, financial and political chaos - into a war with one of the most powerful armies in the world.

War is always devastating, but would be even more unbearably so in the current state of the country.  Lebanese across the country and the world are holding their breath through the tension to see if we will be spared another war.

Much of the confusion of there ‘already’ being a war in Lebanon comes from the older generation, who probably remember events on the news like the 1975-1990 civil war, or the month-long 2006 war between Hezbollah and Israel.  The civil war also involved Israel and Palestinians.  To distil a long, complex part of history into the basics: the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and Gaza Strip led to the PLO being pushed out of those territories and into neighbouring Lebanon, where it operated from with the support of a large base of homesick, rattled Palestinian refugees desperate to return home.  There, it managed to gain a strong foothold and support within the region among Palestinians and Lebanese sympathisers to the PLO/Palestinian cause, which, due to lack of alternative representation, became almost synonymous with each other.

Beyond being the reason for the Palestinians’ destabilising presence in Lebanon and the indirect reason behind the existence of the PLO in the first place as a national restoration movement, the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) broke a ceasefire agreement in 1982, invading Lebanon and moving upwards to West Beirut.  Its main pretext was the PLO’s activities and base in Lebanon. The IDF presence exacerbated tensions and alliances within Lebanon, further dividing the people in between seeing their presence as liberators from the influence of the PLO (such as is the case with the Lahad/South Lebanon Army, who worked with the IDF), while others staunchly opposed their occupation of the country, which lasted until 2000.  

Furthermore, despite the PLO’s full withdrawal from Lebanese territories two months into the Israeli invasion, the IDF continued to label all remaining refugees (especially any adult Palestinian male), regardless of their affiliation to PLO leader Yasser Arafat, as “terrorists”.  This was documented within Israel’s own Kahan Commission Report of the massacre which indicted Ariel Sharon (Israeli Prime Minister at the time)  with partial responsibility.  The extreme level of factional tensions within Lebanon led to unspeakable massacres such as the Sabra and Shatila Massacre in a Beirut refugee camp, which the IDF and a Lebanese extreme-right Christian political wing were perpetrators of.

The level of destruction in both the civil war and the 2006 Israel War (or ‘Second Lebanon War’ to Israelis) was extremely high, but there has not really been any large-scale conflict in the country since.  The question stems from the perception of the Middle East as a constantly turbulent, unsafe place doomed to endless conflict.  With the media portrayal of even (currently) peaceful Arab countries as forevermore marked by war and danger, I understand where the perception comes from.  Lebanon is particularly situated in an unstable neighbourhood, and its internal religious diversity and sectarianism makes understanding the tiny country’s position even more difficult to an outsider.  

Moreover, it is not pure coincidence that there has seemed to be a markedly high level of conflict and instability in the region going quite far back.  This can be attributed in large part to two gentlemen from the UK and France respectively: Mark Sykes and François Georges-Picot - the namesakes of the Sykes-Picot Agreement, which was a secret treaty between France and the UK to divide up parts of the fallen Ottoman Empire into French- and British-administered areas.  The lines drawn across ethnic and religious communities, and placing heterogeneous communities in a single state, was a recipe for decades of instability as these areas struggled to fit themselves into the newly-imported European model of the nation-state.  In Lebanon, for instance, the French gave large preferential treatment to the Maronite Christian community, breeding factional and religious divisions which the country paid a heavy price for.  In a sense, this is a typical page in the colonial playbook that can be seen played out across countries in South Asia and Africa as well.  What exacerbated these tensions was the large number of players in the game - particularly after the discovery of oil in, incidentally, some of the most contested/minority regions of different Middle Eastern countries.

There is so much more to say about the effects of Sykes-Picot, and how it enabled extreme autocratic regimes to rise and attempt to redraw the borders to no avail.  Going back to the question, I always try to respond by emphasising the multidimensional aspect of life in Lebanon and the Middle East at large.  Despite its many shortcomings, I feel lucky to have grown up in such a naturally beautiful and plentiful country, with a rich culture and a hospitable and generous people to raise me.  I feel at home here in Taiwan as well thanks to the shared culture of mutual care and community.  There is so much more to our countries than destitution - and while it is important to shed light on struggles and issues faced by Lebanese, or the trauma endured by peoples across the region, one must not fall into the trap of relegating the lived experience to just that.  Recognising the beauty in the country and culture makes wanting to improve our lived situations all the more worthwhile. 

“Don’t worry - you’re free here in Taiwan”

This was said to me in different forms very often in Taiwan, but also coming from people around the world.  It is usually meant as a sort of comfort that now, here, I was far away from the oppression they imagine I live under back home.  I am not going to claim that Lebanon is the cradle of democracy and human rights, but it is incredibly simplistic to lump our culture and politics into what many perceive is a monolithic fundamentalist, autocratic one.  With a definitely large number of cultural issues relating to patriarchy, LGBTQ+ rights, corruption and sectarianism that need to be addressed, I want to make it clear that I did not grow up under fearfully oppressive circumstances by any means.

On the contrary, Lebanon is a country of great diversity where I was able to exchange views - both radical and moderate, Western and Eastern, traditional and progressive - with those around me.  A large part of the population is educated abroad, and the number of Lebanese expatriates and migrants significantly outweighs the number living within our borders, making a plurality of views and perspectives the norm.  I had the privilege of a relatively carefree and open upbringing and look back upon it fondly.  While I recognise that experiences and feelings of ‘freedom’ within Lebanon vary greatly and inequality is rampant, the same can be said - to different extents - of most countries around the globe.

I truly admire how open and democratic Taiwan is, and how welcoming the people here have been toward me.  That being said, it should not be assumed that Taiwan is some sort of escape to me, or that I behave all that differently than I do back home.  In both Taipei and Beirut, I (can) go out regularly, have discussions about everything under the sun, wear what I like, hike, laugh, eat local food and smile at strangers.

“Just move your family to Taiwan.”

This casual remark was probably the most thought-provoking.  It led me down so many paths - from a reflection on the plight of refugees worldwide to the good-natured but perhaps misled intentions behind the comment itself.  This comment came after news of Hezbollah skirmishes with the IDF came about, and fears of a second front opening with Lebanon started materialising.  For many Lebanese, this situation brings back traumatic memories of 2006, when there was a flare-up in Gaza, and as a display of solidarity with the Palestinians, Hezbollah conducted a cross-border raid into northern Israel on July 12, capturing two Israeli soldiers.  The Israeli response to the kidnappings was devastating for Lebanon. It involved not only a ground invasion but also massive airstrikes, resulting in the deaths of approximately 1,200 civilians. The capital's southern suburbs, where Hezbollah operates, were heavily damaged, and civilian infrastructure across the whole country (including near my hometown) suffered extensive destruction.

While I hope the situation is different enough this time for Lebanon to be spared war even after Israel’s killing of three young girls and their grandmother on November 5, the prospect of turning my voluntary stay in Taiwan into something of a refugee status was extremely strange.  I also had to laugh imagining some of my external family members navigating a country so alien to them as Taiwan is - some of them hardly understand where in the world I am right now. 

Still, in the case that it were necessary to move them out of the country, Taiwan is hardly a practical choice.  This led me to think of the geographic situation of Taiwan, and how that meant that (at least in the past few decades), it never really had to deal with large influxes of refugees.  Lebanon already holds around one million Palestinian refugees, many of whom arrived, or are descended from those who arrived after the Nakba and have stayed ever since, as well as the same number of Syrians in a country with four million local inhabitants.  Even with our cultural and linguistic proximity to both groups of people, there have remained issues of tensions and largely debated legal inequalities in the treatment and livelihood of refugees in Lebanon.

If I and others were to potentially take the suggestion of ‘bringing my family to Taiwan’ (ignoring the difficulties surrounding passport and visa requirements), it becomes difficult to imagine - as a pure thought experiment - how the local Taiwanese population would react were any significant number of refugees to come into the country.  I happen to be fair-skinned, non-religious, liberal, and can converse in Mandarin, but what would happen if the demographic that arrived is not the same?  I do not aim to posit that they will or will not be accepted into society in a scalable manner - I only hope to perhaps spark your imagination of how difficult our humanitarian duty of refugee integration is in a practical context, and how open and prepared different societies would be in dealing with ethnic, religious, linguistic and cultural diversity.  As someone who has lived in France and participated in migrant and refugee integration efforts whilst there, I was able to observe the ostracising treatment of African, Middle Eastern and North African migrants and refugees living there (some for generations), versus the readily open-armed and generous acceptance of Ukrainian refugees in 2022.  This allowed me to perceive firsthand the extent to which proximity and racism play a role in the humanisation of victims and refugees - a type of discrimination I would never wish upon anyone.

I offer this reflection regarding the humanisation of victims as it seeps deeply into the reaction of the West, and by extension Taiwan (as a US ally), toward the horrific October 7 Hamas attacks, but also the inexcusably disproportionate counter-offensive that followed toward defenceless Palestinian civilians in Gaza with no bomb shelters to run to, resulting in nearly 10,000 dead today, including over 4,000 children.  When it comes to media and language, I urge you to pay attention to the phrasing and wording used to describe all of these tragic deaths.  More often than not throughout the last few decades of documentation, Israelis “were killed/slaughtered/butchered etc. by Hamas” while Palestinians simply “died”, labelled as unfortunate but necessary ‘casualties’.  Another notable trend is that of focusing on the individual, personal stories behind Israeli victims - e.g. a grandmother, a professor, a son of X, etc. - thus offering them the recognition and humanity that victims deserve.  The same is hardly ever offered to Palestinian victims in Western media, who are relegated to mass numbers and thus more easily collectively herded under the label of ‘terrorists’.  Many pro-Israeli intellectuals have even suggested that there is no moral equivalence between the Israeli and Palestinian lives lost - claiming that one side was killing civilians to ‘maximise horror’ while its own people’s deaths amounted to ‘collateral damage’.

Denouncing Hamas and violence toward Israelis was commonplace in mass media (as it should be), but denouncing what can only be termed a genocide against innocent residents of the Gaza Strip, 40% of which are minors, as well as the killing of Palestinians in the West Bank with impunity, is debatable - even controversial.  Time and again, anyone who speaks up for the latter group of people can be thrust into the position of an antisemitic islamist terrorist-apologist.

While deeply disappointing, this rhetoric is far from surprising to me - a woman born and raised in a mixed, apolitical Lebanese-European household, but with years of personal deep passion on the issues affecting my country of birth and her neighbours.  I have seen time and again how Western media has painted Arabs using a simplistic, accusatory and frankly racist rhetoric that shrouded many’s eyes from contextual elements that are invaluable to justice - elements and history I strongly urge you to take the time to look up for yourself.

‘The situation is very complicated/It’s hard to know who is right and who is wrong/War is bad for every country.’

Of course, I can understand that the situation seems quite complex to someone looking at it from a context so far away as that of Taiwan, and that war is indeed a traumatising and terrible thing for all parties involved.  However, at its core, I would say that what is going on in Israel/Palestine boils down to a fight for territory, national identity and self-determination.  These are concepts I think a lot of Taiwanese can relate to.

Despite understanding the foreign policy considerations behind it, I found Taiwan’s strong support for Israel and articles comparing Hamas to China quite ironic.  Without minimising the heavy damage and casualties incurred by Hamas, comparing an organisation that is weaker in military might than many of its regional counterparts, and is managing a tiny strip of land on the Mediterranean that is under direct Israeli control and blockade, to the PRC and the People’s Liberation Army does not quite stand.

For one, experts and analysts have worried about a potential Chinese blockade of Taiwan - not the other way around.  Taiwanese, like Palestinians, find themselves having to defend their homeland’s statehood and right to self-determination to the world, while the other party utilises historical narratives to undermine Taiwanese and Taiwan’s very existence and claim it as theirs.  Despite Taiwan being able to break from authoritarianism and become a functioning democracy, it also struggles for international recognition.  Palestinians have to likewise struggle to prove their right to an identity, and speaking of Palestine as a country is often controversial, just as it is for Taiwan.

Trying to draw exact parallels between Taiwan/China and Israel/Palestine is a fallacy no one needs to fall into given the plethora of contextual differences, but based on the few clear parallels that we can draw, it becomes apparent what party resembles whom more.  I understand that diplomatic considerations are deeply at play here: Taiwan, despite its similarities with the Palestinian struggles and its inherent ability to sympathise with them, often falls toward support of Israel since that is the stance of the US, and against China, which has been less vocal in condemnation of Hamas than other states.

Given this, it is easy to fall into the trap of democracy versus authoritarianism, rule of law versus tyranny, good versus evil; but I need to remind you that the game of the international order that great powers are playing with merely utilises these alliances as tools for greater ends - namely, their own control over the world order. China pays no real heed to the suffering of the Palestinians; it just avoids holding an unequivocal pro-Israel stance since the latter is one of the US’ most steadfast allies.  Being anti-China and pro-Israeli are by no means synonymous, and I encourage you to disentangle this great diplomatic game and see things for what they are: namely, a genocide with the intent to colonise land and resources and reshape the regional political order.  Killing babies, wiping entire generations of a family off the face of the earth, indiscriminately carpet-bombing a densely populated strip of land with no ceasefire or even the more mildly phrased ‘humanitarian pauses’, and comparing its residents to ‘human animals’ (in the words of Israeli Defence Minister Yoav Gallant) are undeniable war crimes that cannot be justified by any means - and calling for the end of occupation and apartheid (as verified by Amnesty International’s 2022 report) can and should not be conflated with anti-semitism.

While it may seem “complicated” and “hard to know who is right”, I challenge you to have the courage to try.  I implore you to form your own opinion on this after careful consideration, and see that although this seems so far away, we have reached a stage in humanity where caring about genocide is a global responsibility to shoulder.  While I have been glued to my laptop, soaking up every bit of news and information I can in order to grieve the victims that no one else seems to here, I do not ask the same of you - all I ask is that you try and see what is going on at its core, in its full context, and to act on your opinion.  Organise discussions, boycott, call on your leaders for action, for ceasefire, talk about it as if it matters.  Because whether you can relate or not, whether you are Taiwanese or Lebanese or French or Indonesian, it does.  History judges the bystanders of injustice, and taking an educated stand rather than deliberately choosing ignorance is the least we owe to those suffering unimaginable losses.

(This piece reflects the author's opinion, and does not represent the opinion of CommonWealth Magazine.)

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About the author

Tatiana Van den Haute 

Tatiana Van den Haute is a Policy Analyst at Safe Spaces, a consulting firm focused on Taiwan’s new relationships in time of strategic competition. She has a bachelor’s degree from Sciences Po Paris, where she focused on Europe-Asia relations. She can be reached at [email protected].

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Have you read?

• Hamas: Unmasking a culture of death
• Taiwan’s road to CPTPP membership

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