Uncertain Times
“What were their hopes for the future? How did they survive? How would political issues be reflected in their daily lives? What were then, the promises of democracy?”
Ihsan Turjman, drawing by Lamia Joreige, 2021
It is today’s feeling of anxiety and uncertainty in our region that triggered my interest in looking back at a turning point in our history - a moment of rupture, of simultaneous fragmentation and creation.
From the fragmentation of Iraq and Syria and the recent economic, social and political collapse of Lebanon, and the ongoing occupation of Palestinian territories, it was a continuous flow of conflicts that pushed ever further the barrier of extremisms, that of religion, violence, and images. Would Syria and Iraq survive their fragmentation, and in what conditions? Will the Lebanese people ever unite around a common narrative to build a country? Will the Palestinian have a free state? How much of this situation is the result of actual local divisions and how much is instigated by external powers, regional and international?
The multilayered project Uncertain Times involves research, writing and production of a body of works (drawings, multimedia installation and a film) covering the period between the end of the Ottoman Empire and the beginning of the French and English mandate in Lebanon, Syria and Palestine (1914-1920). The Sykes-Picot Agreement (1916), the Balfour Declaration (1917), as well as the First World War and the famine of Mount Lebanon, which caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people, led to a geographic, political and social transformation of this region, and had major consequences that still impact our lives today.
This project invites us to reflect on historical processes, as well as on notions of temporality from which we understand the past, present, and the future—the uncertain times. Concepts of non-linear time, reconstitution, fragmented history and narratives have been central to my work, where visual associations and stories’ reenactments work across the boundaries of an epoch, connecting different temporalities.
For that reason, I am interested in different stories of this period narrated from a subjective viewpoint. I wish to express the tensions and anxieties, but also the expectations felt by the population of that time. What were their hopes for the future? How did they survive? How would political issues be reflected in their daily lives? What were then, the promises of democracy?
The extensive research I undertook over the course of 4 years with the help of research assistants Karen Murad and Yildiz Yilmaz, gathered documents from a historical, sociological, literary and visual perspective. It includes diaries and memoirs, fiction novels, sociological studies, photographs and maps, official correspondence, decrees and reports as well as periodicals and newspapers. This ever-growing archive and its historical weight requires from me to work back and forth with the material; sometimes I draw direct inspiration thereof to make a drawing and at other times linger for months, trying to make sense of it. Based on this research, the multimedia installation Cartography of a Transformation will assemble various elements (images, texts and sculptures) aiming at reinventing notions of historical and chronological frieze.
A document dated May 1915 signed by Ohannes, the governor of Mount Lebanon, stating that the inhabitants of Mount Lebanon are suffering from the hardship in obtaining wheat and warning that the interruption in the transportation of wheat to Mount Lebanon and the coasts of Syria might cause famine and hunger. Source: Başkanlık Osmanlı Arşivi, Istanbul
The population of Lebanon, Syria and Palestine under the Ottoman rule, took part in the battles of World War I and many died in the war or were victims of the great famine, which according to different accounts, caused the death of nearly a third of the population of Mount Lebanon. Several factors were at play in the famine, including the locusts’ invasion that devastated agricultural fields, as well as local speculators making profits by hoarding grain, but also the war between the French-British allies and the Ottomans, which led both sides to subject the population to a food embargo, as a political strategy. The magnitude of this famine, which has rarely been articulated in the domain of art, though constitutive of Lebanon’s history, as much as the upheavals and consequences of World War I, had a catastrophic dimension and transformed the society of the time, including the role of women, by empowering them momentarily.
As Lebanon witnesses today its biggest social, economic and financial collapse since World War I, images and stories reminiscent of the 1916 famine in our region, come to mind and overlap with present images: The inflation, the speculation on food and fuel, the politicization of the distribution of supplies, the corruption as well as the incompetence of the successive governments in finding viable solutions, which led half of the population below poverty level and on the verge of famine. I wonder here: Are all famines man-made?
In 1914, the region suffered from years of drought during a time of high conscription. Mandatory military service was forced upon many peasant farmers, who were obliged to fight in the war trenches, and therefore were unable to plow the fields. By November 1914, no flour or wheat could be found in the market. By 1915, Cemal Pasha was forcefully collecting grain from farmers in order to deliver crops to the government and the army. Then the locusts attacked in 1915, devouring and destroying the rest of the crops. Blockades have long been used unsuccessfully as a political tool to pressure populations and incite them to rebel against existing powers.
The influence and interference of international powers is similar today, when using political strategy and rivalry to determine what and when food supplies and monetary aid can be allocated to relieve the population from hardship. Contemporary speculators in Lebanon are making enormous profits over the price of fuel and the dollar exchange rate, reminding us of the wealthy local families, who during World War I profited from hoarding and controlling the amounts of wheat distributed in the market. Prices increased to the extent that local farmers could no longer afford purchasing it. The region endured tremendous hunger.
Would the borders of Lebanon today be the same orders had the famine not happened?
I cannot but think of our present situation with the ongoing devaluation of the Lebanese pound, the bankruptcy of the state, its central bank and the collapse of the banking system, which led to massive speculation, an uncontrolled black market, the increase of corruption, and an unprecedented level of impoverishment. One can only imagine the deep transformations that will occur in our society as a result of today’s crisis.
A French report from a Newspaper dated October 3, 1919 titled “King Faisal and the Jewish claims” Source_ Başkanlık Osmanlı Arşivi, Istanbul
Christians and Muslims, who feared oppression by the Ottomans, worked together to get rid of them. In 1915-1916, thirty-three leaders of both Christian and Muslim background were found guilty of high treason and hanged in public in Beirut and Damascus for collaborating with the Allies. An Arab identity emerged as a political and cultural force against the Ottomans. But later, the split between Christians and Muslims in Lebanon increased as the majority of Muslims wanted to be part of greater Syria under the ruling of King Faisal and the majority of Christian, mainly Maronites, wanted an independent Lebanese state, under the protection of the French. The Ottoman left Beirut in October, 1917.
Allies had claimed to protect the region until it could be self-governed, the British had promised Faisal the kingdom of the first independent Arab state, which was to cover the territory of Syria, Lebanon and Palestine. Only that Faisal was betrayed by the British, who through the Sykes-Picot agreement with the French, fragmented the territory, placing Lebanon and Syria under French mandate, and Palestine and Iraq under the British. Faisal was then fought by the French; he retreated and later became the first king of Iraq.
What would have happened had King Faisal ruled over all that territory? What if he had not been betrayed by the English, defeated by the French and fought by the Maronite Christians of Lebanon? Would his Arab kingdom, united and independent, have existed? Was Faisal a figure constructed by the British and some Arabs as a tool for unifying the Arabs in their struggle against the Ottomans?
The Ottoman Empire included a great diversity of ethnic and religious communities, and though they were not treated equally, the centralized power provided a cohesive authority. Would Faisal have governed through a power centralized in Damascus or inevitably reigned over small divided fiefdoms? How would he have treated these religious and ethnic minorities? Had he ruled the first independent Arab kingdom, would he have done it fairly and democratically?
What fascinates me are these moments of great possibilities - turning points in our history, where many factors and players converged and produced a radical transformation; where many directions and different outcomes would have been possible. I wonder if this territory could have remained unfragmented and under what conditions.
In one of my conversations with Etel Adnan filmed between 2013 and 2015, we spoke about our childhood, our parents and the end of the Ottoman empire, and I asked her what would have happened had King Faisal succeeded in reigning on an independent Arab kingdom and whether she thought it would have lasted. Her answer was: “It might not have worked, but it might have worked. After all, even Lebanon worked, even Iraq exists, even little Syria existed, but it would have been shaky. The problems that Lebanon has, this Arab nation would have had them too. How can you manage such diversity? The Ottoman Empire managed it very well from Constantinople, and accepted this diversity. Nationalism did fire imaginations.
In an earlier conversion in 2011, I shared with Etel some photographs I had taken during the summer on a Greek island, she admired the photos then asked me to create a video based on her first poem, Sun & Sea, written in French in 1949. A year later, I returned to Greece and filmed the sea, the sky, the sun, the cliffs, but I refused to look at the images and kept postponing this work.
The video was only realized in 2021 and in its opening conversation, Etel evoked Greece as a “Labyrinth”, meaning that it has so much to offer that one could easily get lost in it. And I told her I hoped to understand and say something about Greece through her poetry. I shared my fascination in her capacity to express the landscape’s beauty in a way that is almost unscathed by the state of the world. For I felt a great difficulty in creating a work that spoke, as simply as she did in her poem, of the beauty of the sky and the sea.
Indeed, how could I create a tale of beauty and serenity of a Greek paradise, when daily life had been going so badly in my own country Lebanon, as well as in Syria and in Palestine? Both Etel and I believed that the current crisis and its causes were similar to those in 1920. Such interrogations and analogies pushed me to further dig into the history of our region.
Under the leadership of General Allenby, the British entered Jerusalem in the winter of 1917. The Arabs, who wanted to free themselves from Ottoman rule, welcomed the British, but many quickly regretted their initial enthusiasm for the British Mandate, when they understood, their intention to allow the creation of a Zionist state, as well as their actions to promote divisions between Muslims and Christians. Tensions mounted, leading Arabs to soon organize a large-scale revolt.
Planes, drawing by Lamia Joreige, 2021
The struggle and political negotiations went on until the last minute, so the fate of Lebanon, Syria and Palestine was not predetermined. It is possible that the famine was a contributing factor in advocating for larger borders than Mount Lebanon previously had, when in 1920, Lebanon was proclaimed under French mandate.
We can easily see through the context of this period the foundations of many sectarian and political divisions among these communities, which are the building block of our present-day society and which led to political division at specific moments of Lebanon’s history, such as in 1958, and later during the Lebanese wars that started in 1975 until now.
My sources of inspiration are diverse, but the work that compelled me the most, is the diary of Ihsan Turjman, published in The Year of the Locust by Palestinian sociologist Salim Tamari, which I am currently working on adapting to a film. Uncovered recently, the diary of this Palestinian soldier from Jerusalem, in his early twenties, enrolled in the Ottoman army during World War I, had a strong emotional impact on me. Written between 1915 and 1916, it is a rare testimony of a young person, and it depicts his ideals and hopes, expressing his desires in a time of conflict and uncertainty.
In his diary, Ihsan shares his passion and anxiety as he platonically loves a woman whom he hopes to marry, but doesn’t know whether her parents will agree to their union. The young soldier also raises questions about the future of Palestine and interrogates notions of belonging, patriotism, and identity, especially in regards to Arab identity and legal rights under Ottoman ruling, which he strongly criticizes.
He writes: However, I cannot imagine myself fighting in the desert front. And why should I go? To fight for my country? I am Ottoman by name only, for my country is the whole of humanity. Even if I am told that by going to fight, we will conquer Egypt, I will refuse to go. What does this barbaric state want from us? To liberate Egypt on our backs? Our leaders promised us and other fellow Arabs that we would be partners in this government and that they seek to advance the interests and conditions of the Arab nation. But what have we actually seen from these promises? Had they treated us as equals, I would not hesitate to give my blood and my life — but as things stand, I hold a drop of my blood to be more precious than the entire Turkish state.
Ihsan criticizes the unequal treatment of Jews and Christians by the Ottomans and the terrible conditions of women. His progressive views, even by today’s standard, demonstrate the spirit of change of the time, which later led to the improvement of women’s rights. His queries and his fears as well as his ideals at once banal and extraordinary, evoke similar problems in our time, and made me interrogate my own perception of our region’s future.
Faisal on the deck, drawing by Lamia Joreige, 2021
From the invasion of locusts and the scarcity of bread and cigarettes, he tells us about the daily humiliations imposed by a harsh military system during war time, on an impoverished population. He writes: Heavy rain fell over Jerusalem today, which we needed badly. Locusts are attacking all over the country. The locust invasion started seven days ago and covered the sky. Today it took the locust clouds two hours to pass over the city. God protect us from the three plagues: war, locusts, and disease, for they are spreading through the country. Pity the poor.
While relying on the manuscript of the diary as a document, and possibly the use of visual archives from various sources, my film intends to give life to characters through the work of actors incarnating the main figures of the diary. Using a voice over, as we see Ihsan in the intimacy of his bedroom or follow him through his daily walks in Jerusalem as well as dialogues when he meets other soldiers, friends and family. The actors may enact scenes set in 1915 and at once in our contemporary times, thus playing with the notion of anachronism. They speculate on their future then, and share similar fears and hopes with present-day characters.
Ihsan writes in his diary’s first pages: But what will be the fate of Palestine? We all saw two possibilities: independence or annexation to Egypt. The last possibility is more likely since only the English are likely to possess this country, and England is unlikely to give full sovereignty to Palestine but is more liable to annex it to Egypt and create a single dominion ruled by the khedive of Egypt.
A few pages before the end of his diary, we learn that an officer in the army declared his love for him and even followed him once at home. He felt embarrassed by the situation and didn’t know how to react to it. We then learn as a postscript that Ihsan Turjman, who was only 23 years old, was assassinated by a soldier before the end of the war in 1917. Was this a passion crime committed by the soldier in love with him? Was there an issue related to money or any other personal matter with the murderer? Was it an accident during a heated fight? Much of the ambiguity remains until today.
Thus, Ihsan will not know the outcome of the war, he will not see Allenby entering his hometown Jerusalem, he will not know about the end of the Ottoman Empire, or the fate of Palestine and the conflicts that will later unfold in this region. Today, we know, and this knowledge gives us a historical perspective that opens the door to many interrogations and reflections.
This diary is an exceptional document of its time, but it is strangely contemporaneous. One can draw an analogy with the present time in our region. In fact, so much of the uncertainty of the epoch, the economic collapse, the political turmoil and the anxiety and fear felt by the population experiencing them, is similar today. The recent upheavals, wars and tragic events could redefine our region again. Its future remains uncertain.
Lamia Joreige is a visual artist and film-maker who lives and works in Beirut. She uses archival documents and elements of fiction to reflect on history and its possible narration, exploring the possibilities of representing the Lebanese wars and their aftermath and the relationship between individual stories and collective memory. Her work is essentially on time, the recordings of its trace, and its effects on us.
Lamia Joreige’s artworks were presented in various international festivals and exhibitions, including: MAXXI and Fondazione Sandretto Re Rebaudengo (Italy); Centre Pompidou, Tate Modern, Serpentine Gallery and Cardiff National Museum (U.K.); Sharjah Biennial (UAE). She was a fellow at the Institute of Ideas and Imagination, Columbia University, Paris (2021) and a fellow at the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study, Harvard University (2016–2017). She is the co-founder and board member of Beirut Art Center, which she co-directed from 2009 to 2014.