INTERVIEW.- Head of the Investigations and Reporting Department for the media Here Beirut, it covers the conflict between Lebanon and Israel. For Madame Figarothe Alsatian expatriate recounts her daily life under the sound of bombings, and evokes her place as a Western woman in the country.
She films the gutted buildings, the drones above her head, the black smoke from Israeli strikes escaping into the sky. Journalist for the local newspaper Here BeirutVictoria C. Werling, a 30-year-old Alsatian expatriate in Lebanon for five years, documents the war through her media and on her social networks, just as others rush to post their outings to the museum and restaurants online. A year after the Hamas attacks in Israel, the conflict between Hezbollah and the Israeli army has already left at least 2,000 dead in the country of Cedar and 1 million displaced. As she speaks to us via WhatsApp, from her neighborhood of Achrafieh, east of Beirut, we hear behind her, in the distance, the sound of bombings. If the image freezes us on the other end of the phone, his voice remains imperturbable. “I’m happy to be able to talk to you, it’s important to say what’s going on here.” Interview.
The fall of a country
Madame Figaro.- You have lived in Lebanon for five years. What do you see right now from your apartment window?
Victoria C. Werling.- I see a mix of modern buildings and old shacks which give a very eclectic appearance to the landscape. Lately, I spend my life between this place and my boyfriend's chalet, perched on Faraya mountain, still considered a “safe zone”. My apartment is located 3 kilometers from the southern suburbs of Beirut, and 2 kilometers from the nearest strikes, this resonates enormously with me. Rather than being woken up suddenly and waiting for the bursts to stop, usually around 4 a.m., I spend my time at his house whenever I can. It's difficult because I travel back and forth to the city every day, but at least I can sleep. That's what people miss the most here: sleep.
Why do you like it so much?
What touches me here, as in many Middle Eastern countries, is the solidarity found there, unlike Western countries based on a culture of individualism. The family unit is very important to the Lebanese, as are friendly relations. There is group functioning. We never feel alone, there is always someone to help us even if we are in the middle of nowhere. It is also a fairly small country but has absolutely phenomenal cultural, religious and historical diversity.
Since 2019, you have experienced the country's economic crisis, the explosion at the port of Beirut in 2020, the Revolution and the rise of the conflict between Israel and Hezbollah. Is that what made you decide to become a journalist here?
In a few years, I followed the fall of a country. Since 2019, and the start of the economic crisis, I have seen friends gradually sink into a form of mental exhaustion. Some have lost everything. Now there is war. On a human level, it’s a great life lesson. I feel invested with a mission: to do my work by showing what is happening here and for the people who are suffering this war. This country has given me and taught me a lot, but it has also taken a lot from me. And these trials consolidated this form of attachment for him.
Last night I watched a series on Netflix while making food and hearing the noise of drones in the background
Victoria C. Werling
Since the explosions of Hezbollah pagers and walkie-talkies attributed to Israel, on September 17, tensions increased and Israeli strikes increased. Emotionally, how are you handling the situation?
What must be understood is that, to a certain extent, war is compartmentalized and restricted to specific neighborhoods. When I think rationally, I know that the strikes are not going to directly hit my neighborhood. I would say that I'm not afraid during the day, but rather at night, when I don't have control over things. You can't be alert when you're asleep…
What is your first instinct when you get up in the morning?
I check my phone and the latest news, whether in Beirut or in other regions of the country. As for the evenings, they are very special because we still try to have a semblance of a normal life. Last night, for example, I watched a series on Netflix while making food and there was the sound of drones at the same time. The contrast is weird. Two realities coexist. I also know that thanks to my expatriate status, I am privileged. For those, like me, who can, we must remain active despite the fear of bombings.
And for the others?
This war has displaced a lot of people (people forced to leave their homes to escape Israeli bombings, Editor’s note). Many Lebanese people lack everything, sleep on the streets and can no longer function on a daily basis. I would like to point out that there were people in the group who came from well-off backgrounds. Fortunately, actions are being put in place to help them. Mutual aid is very strong, many Lebanese give their all, try to raise funds, cook, etc. It's a way of managing anxiety, but mental exhaustion is felt.
In this climate, what are the other big concerns?
It's about surviving first. Not to die from a strike. The other fears are linked to children's education, because many schools have closed, and for those that remain, classes are half online and deserted. Also, the Lebanese are mostly stuck here. There are still flights to escape the country, but the tickets are very expensive and visa applications have been stopped. Even those who have their passports are blocked. They have this feeling of being trapped. For me, it's my choice to be here, I also have a European passport and that changes things enormously. Some people see their friends leave and they can't. It's a lot of stress.
Lebanese women under pressure
At 30, are you managing to reconcile your life as a woman and a journalist in a country at war?
Am I going out, right? (laughs). No, not really, because the head is not there, and it is not there for anyone. We meet at one or another's house to drink tea, telework, but it's hard to manage to escape the war, to escape mentally. Before, I forced myself to have a routine: going to the gym, cooking, etc. For over a month, I have lost track.
Before, I forced myself to have a routine: go to the gym, cook. For two months, I lost track
Has the situation of Lebanese women become more worrying since the start of the war?
I would say that it is very worrying, especially for the displaced. They live on the street, and we know very well that when there is this kind of crisis, violence against women, whether domestic, sexual or psychological, increases considerably. I worry a lot for them and for these young girls who no longer have the protection of their family unit and who are subjected to extreme vulnerability. In any case, I have admiration for all Lebanese women. In my team, I have with me several young girls, between 20 and 25 years old, who had to flee their neighborhood because they were too close to the bombings. They are the next generation of journalism in Lebanon, impressive in their courage and devotion. They put on their “press” vest and will confront areas that are sometimes really dangerous. And it is all the more impressive since they are directly impacted by the war.
What is your experience as a Western woman in Lebanon?
There are a lot of clichés about the Middle East. For my part, I feel safer here than in Paris or elsewhere in France. Obviously, I also know that I don't have the same pressures as Lebanese women, that less is expected of me. In any case, I have always crossed paths with respectful people.
Can you take a step back from current events and the war?
War puts many things into perspective; it brings out our fears, our weaknesses and our strengths. It can affect the self-confidence of some, for others it will bring back demons like alcoholism. But perhaps some will then delve into sports or playing an instrument. Sometimes all at once. War pushes us to our limits. It tests us and in some cases it can make us grow. But we must not get into a mythology either, it remains tragic and fatal for many. But there are still beautiful things that come out of it. Courage and outbursts of solidarity are very beautiful things to see.