Digital & Print Membership
Yearly + Receive 8 free printed back issues
$420 Annually
Monthly + Receive 3 free printed back issues
$40 Monthly
Michèle Aoun
For someone born and raised in Lebanon, the most constant feeling I’ve known is contradiction: the quiet stillness of daily life, suddenly shattered by overwhelming complexity. Beauty and chaos unfolding in the same breath.
In Lebanon, the two are inseparable. The most breathtaking sunsets don’t just light up the skies of Batroun or the Qadisha Valley—they appear above crumbling buildings, framed by broken balconies and power lines. Disruption is our norm. Life is punctuated by power cuts, suffocating traffic, or the distant sound of bombs—gifts from our neighbors. Sticking to a plan is almost impossible. And yet, there’s laughter at weddings held just days after tragedies, and mourning woven into the fabric of our mornings, like background noise.
You don’t just learn to live with this duality—you begin to find meaning in it.
Chaos doesn’t erase beauty. It reveals it.
I’m reminded of this every time I run along the Beirut corniche in the early morning. Before the city fully wakes, the sea offers a moment of suspension: waves crashing with rhythmic certainty, fishermen casting lines into the unknown, and the sky softening into gold. There’s peace—but never complete silence. Behind me lies a city of memories and noise that never fully fades.
War, for me, was never a coherent narrative. It came in fragments: stray bullets, sirens, shattered glass. But even then, I found inspiration. I told myself—if the sea still shimmered, if strangers still shared coffee by candlelight during blackouts, then something was still worth holding on to.
Our rooftop became both a watchtower and a sanctuary. I watched bombs fall on Beirut—terrifying, surreal. I once found a stray bullet tucked in a corner and wondered whether to keep it as a souvenir, before feeling absurd. And still, from that same rooftop, I saw open skies and flocks of birds flying as if nothing had changed.
Beauty in Lebanon lives in its people. In places like Burj Hammoud—densely packed, overlooked by the government, chaotic in every direction—life continues with stunning resilience. A smile from a stranger can shift the entire course of your day. Generosity exists where you least expect it.
Lebanon teaches you to hold everything at once: fear and wonder, grief and gratitude. Not balanced, but blended. Here, there’s no luxury of choosing between beauty and chaos. You learn to feel both—fully. And maybe, that’s what resilience truly is.
{
"article":
{
"title" : "Michèle Aoun",
"author" : "Michele Aoun",
"category" : "visual",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/michele-aoun",
"date" : "2025-06-17 14:26:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/R0027175.jpg",
"excerpt" : "For someone born and raised in Lebanon, the most constant feeling I’ve known is contradiction: the quiet stillness of daily life, suddenly shattered by overwhelming complexity. Beauty and chaos unfolding in the same breath.",
"content" : "For someone born and raised in Lebanon, the most constant feeling I’ve known is contradiction: the quiet stillness of daily life, suddenly shattered by overwhelming complexity. Beauty and chaos unfolding in the same breath.In Lebanon, the two are inseparable. The most breathtaking sunsets don’t just light up the skies of Batroun or the Qadisha Valley—they appear above crumbling buildings, framed by broken balconies and power lines. Disruption is our norm. Life is punctuated by power cuts, suffocating traffic, or the distant sound of bombs—gifts from our neighbors. Sticking to a plan is almost impossible. And yet, there’s laughter at weddings held just days after tragedies, and mourning woven into the fabric of our mornings, like background noise.You don’t just learn to live with this duality—you begin to find meaning in it.Chaos doesn’t erase beauty. It reveals it.I’m reminded of this every time I run along the Beirut corniche in the early morning. Before the city fully wakes, the sea offers a moment of suspension: waves crashing with rhythmic certainty, fishermen casting lines into the unknown, and the sky softening into gold. There’s peace—but never complete silence. Behind me lies a city of memories and noise that never fully fades.War, for me, was never a coherent narrative. It came in fragments: stray bullets, sirens, shattered glass. But even then, I found inspiration. I told myself—if the sea still shimmered, if strangers still shared coffee by candlelight during blackouts, then something was still worth holding on to.Our rooftop became both a watchtower and a sanctuary. I watched bombs fall on Beirut—terrifying, surreal. I once found a stray bullet tucked in a corner and wondered whether to keep it as a souvenir, before feeling absurd. And still, from that same rooftop, I saw open skies and flocks of birds flying as if nothing had changed.Beauty in Lebanon lives in its people. In places like Burj Hammoud—densely packed, overlooked by the government, chaotic in every direction—life continues with stunning resilience. A smile from a stranger can shift the entire course of your day. Generosity exists where you least expect it.Lebanon teaches you to hold everything at once: fear and wonder, grief and gratitude. Not balanced, but blended. Here, there’s no luxury of choosing between beauty and chaos. You learn to feel both—fully. And maybe, that’s what resilience truly is."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "100+ Years of Genocidal Intent in Palestine",
"author" : "Collis Browne",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/100-years-of-genocidal-intent",
"date" : "2025-10-07 18:01:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/1920-jerusalem.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Every single Israeli prime minister, president, and major Zionist leader has voiced clear intent to erase the Palestinian people from their lands, either by forced expulsion, or military violence. From Herzl and Chaim Weizmann to Ben-Gurion to Netanyahu, the record is not ambiguous:",
"content" : "Every single Israeli prime minister, president, and major Zionist leader has voiced clear intent to erase the Palestinian people from their lands, either by forced expulsion, or military violence. From Herzl and Chaim Weizmann to Ben-Gurion to Netanyahu, the record is not ambiguous:{% for person in site.data.genocidalquotes %}{{ person.name }}{% if person.title %}<p class=\"title-xs\">{{ person.title }}</p>{% endif %}{% for quote in person.quotes %}“{{ quote.text }}”{% if quote.source %}— {{ quote.source }}{% endif %}{% endfor %}{% endfor %}"
}
,
{
"title" : "Dignity Before Stadiums:: Morocco’s Digital Uprising",
"author" : "Cheb Gado",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/dignity-before-stadiums",
"date" : "2025-10-02 09:08:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Cover_Morocco_GenZ.jpg",
"excerpt" : "No one expected a generation raised on smartphones and TikTok clips to ignite a spark of protest shaking Morocco’s streets. But Gen Z, the children of the internet and speed, have stepped forward to write a new chapter in the history of uprisings, in their own style.The wave of anger began with everyday struggles that cut deep into young people’s lives: soaring prices, lack of social justice, and the silencing of their voices in politics. They didn’t need traditional leaders or party manifestos; the movement was born out of a single hashtag that spread like wildfire, transforming individual frustration into collective momentum.",
"content" : "No one expected a generation raised on smartphones and TikTok clips to ignite a spark of protest shaking Morocco’s streets. But Gen Z, the children of the internet and speed, have stepped forward to write a new chapter in the history of uprisings, in their own style.The wave of anger began with everyday struggles that cut deep into young people’s lives: soaring prices, lack of social justice, and the silencing of their voices in politics. They didn’t need traditional leaders or party manifestos; the movement was born out of a single hashtag that spread like wildfire, transforming individual frustration into collective momentum.One of the sharpest contradictions fueling the protests was the billions poured into World Cup-related preparations, while ordinary citizens remained marginalized when it came to healthcare and education.This awareness quickly turned into chants and slogans echoing through the streets: “Dignity begins with schools and hospitals, not with putting on a show for the world.”What set this movement apart was not only its presence on the streets, but also the way it reinvented protest itself:Live filming: Phone cameras revealed events moment by moment, exposing abuses instantly.Memes and satire: A powerful weapon to dismantle authority’s aura, turning complex political discourse into viral, shareable content.Decentralized networks: No leader, no party, just small, fast-moving groups connected online, able to appear and disappear with agility.This generation doesn’t believe in grand speeches or delayed promises. They demand change here and now. Moving seamlessly between the physical and digital realms, they turn the street into a stage of revolt, and Instagram Live into an alternative media outlet.What’s happening in Morocco strongly recalls the Arab Spring of 2011, when young people flooded the streets with the same passion and spontaneity, armed only with belief in their power to spark change. But Gen Z added their own twist, digital tools, meme culture, and the pace of a hyper-connected world.Morocco’s Gen Z uprising is not just another protest, but a living experiment in how a digital generation can redefine politics itself. The spark may fade, but the mark it leaves on young people’s collective consciousness cannot be erased.Photo credits: Mosa’ab Elshamy, Zacaria Garcia, Abdel Majid Bizouat, Marouane Beslem"
}
,
{
"title" : "A Shutdown Exposes How Fragile U.S. Governance Really Is",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/a-shutdown-exposes-how-fragile-us-governance-really-is",
"date" : "2025-10-01 22:13:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Cover_Gov_ShutDown.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Each time the federal government shutters its doors, we hear the same reassurances: essential services will continue, Social Security checks will still arrive, planes won’t fall from the sky. This isn’t the first Governmental shutdown, they’ve happened 22 times since 1976, and their toll is real.",
"content" : "Each time the federal government shutters its doors, we hear the same reassurances: essential services will continue, Social Security checks will still arrive, planes won’t fall from the sky. This isn’t the first Governmental shutdown, they’ve happened 22 times since 1976, and their toll is real.Shutdowns don’t mean the government stops functioning. They mean millions of federal workers are asked to keep the system running without pay. Air traffic controllers, border patrol agents, food inspectors — people whose jobs underpin both public safety and economic life — are told their labor matters, but their livelihoods don’t. People have to pay the price of bad bureaucracy in the world’s most powerful country, if governance is stalled, workers must pay with their salaries and their groceries.In 1995 and 1996, clashes between President Bill Clinton and House Speaker Newt Gingrich triggered two shutdowns totaling 27 days. In 2013, a 16-day standoff over the Affordable Care Act furloughed 850,000 workers. And in 2018–2019, the longest shutdown in U.S. history stretched 35 days, as President Trump refused to reopen the government without funding for a border wall. That impasse left 800,000 federal employees without paychecks and cost the U.S. economy an estimated $11 billion — $3 billion of it permanently lost.More troubling is what happens when crises strike during shutdowns. The United States is living in an age of accelerating climate disasters: historic floods in Vermont, wildfire smoke choking New York, hurricanes pounding Florida. These emergencies do not pause while Congress fights over budgets. Yet a shutdown means furloughed NOAA meteorologists, suspended EPA enforcement, and delayed FEMA programs. In the most climate-vulnerable decade of our lifetimes, we are choosing paralysis over preparedness.This vulnerability didn’t emerge overnight. For decades, the American state has been hollowed out under the logic of austerity and privatization, while military spending has remained sacrosanct. That imbalance is why budgets collapse under the weight of endless resources for war abroad, too few for resilience at home.Shutdowns send a dangerous message. They normalize instability. They tell workers they are disposable. They make clear that in our system, climate resilience and public health aren’t pillars of our democracy but rather insignificant in the face of power and greed. And each time the government closes, it becomes easier to imagine a future where this isn’t the exception but the rule.The United States cannot afford to keep running on shutdown politics. The climate crisis, economic inequality, and the challenges of sustaining democracy itself demand continuity, not collapse. We need a politics that treats stability and resilience not as partisan victories, but as basic commitments to one another. Otherwise, the real shutdown isn’t just of the government — it’s of democracy itself."
}
]
}
