Ich bin ein jelly donut

Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free. When all are free, then we can look forward to that day when this city will be joined as one and this country and this great Continent of Europe in a peaceful and hopeful globe. When that day finally comes, as it will, the people of West Berlin can take sober satisfaction in the fact that they were in the front lines for almost two decades.

All free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Berlin, and, therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words "Ich bin ein Berliner."

-John F. Kennedy, June 26, 1963

I remember it vividly. It was 11/9/89. 11/9, a reverse of 9/11, and what had happened on that day was the reverse, too.

I first stepped into the city of Berlin on the eighth anniversary of that day, and it seemed like the celebration had never stopped. In 1997, Berlin held the promise of the future in its cranes and crania. The city looked much like Beirut does today and sounded much the same, too, a symphony of jackhammers and big yellow machines and clanging steel. Most of all, though, I remember the energy - it felt like the future, like possibility, like...Hope.

I was 12 years old when I watched people with sledgehammers breaking up a wall that had symbolized a global division and had been responsible for so many ruined lives, so many heartbreaks, so many deaths. In 1989 I saw that wall fall down through the miracle of television, a wall that had kept prosperity and humanity out, a prison wall, a tragedy. The wall fell and the cranes went up, cranes that would not leave a picture frame, cranes that would start the rebuilding process, that would give back Berlin its heart.

I remember it all even if I didn't understand it at the time. In school we had this good thing called democracy and this other, evil thing called communism, and that was the world and there was no other way to look at it. Then suddenly the definition of the world no longer defined it and people were proclaiming the "End of History" and other ridiculous notions and a lot of peacocks ruffled their feathers and couldn't keep their beaks shut about triumph and victory and blah, blah, blah. What was a kid to do except either ignore it or try to find out about the world and what was going to happen to it now that all the world's problems had been solved?

Indeed, it did feel like a victory of sorts. Back then cable news reported news instead of balloon boys. Back then my twelve year old eyes and heart knew this was something that was changing history. I didn't know why or how, but you could just feel it. The joy and unity people felt in seeing those Berliners dancing on top of concrete and graffiti was shared by everyone (aside from those Soviet fat cats who benefited from imprisoning a city and much of the globe for all those years.) There was a certain energy in the air that made it feel like that illusion the English language called "peace" was possible across the rest of the world.

Eight years later, I found myself getting off a train at the Zoo Station, a twenty year old university student carrying that same optimism for the world that had been born all those years earlier. (Whether that optimism and idealism was inspired by divinity or insanity has not yet been determined.) I had yet to notice the world's optimism was slipping, and it was tough to feel anything but awe and amazement as a city was rebuilding itself.

Another twelve years have passed since the first time I set foot in Berlin. The world is a vastly different place, and ominous clouds have replaced the sunshine of hope that could be felt in the last days of the twentieth century. When once the promise of peace graced us with its presence, now, "times of uncertainty" has become a cliche phrase.

BBC posted images of separation walls that still exist in the world, walls built after we should have learned our lesson.

Curious, I asked Lebanese Twitterers if there were any walls in Lebanon which divided the different communities. A couple of interesting responses:

@MXML: plenty of psychological walls, that's for sure.

@srichani: imaginary walls btw different sects, political affiliations, social classes, ethnicities.

I imagine psychological walls are far more difficult to take down.

Today, a group of Palestinian youth knocked down a section of the Israel Wall.



Their retreat and the bullet trails were nothing like those iconic images of sledgehammers and dancing on top of graffiti covered concrete. Yet - there is a tiny victory in the defiance of these youth, a little of the spirit of Berlin, some of the hope.

That's enough to keep fighting for the future.

We are all Berliners. We are all Palestinians. We are all Earthians. Humans. And we all deserve the freedom that we watched unfold before our eyes on that blessed day in 1989 - 11/9, or as it's written outside of America, 9/11. That's the 9/11 that should shape our world.

This will be published on November 9 on Developing Lebanon.