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From Beirut to Warwick, Angel Nakhle asks ‘Why is war always the answer?’

On 17 September, thousands of pagers across Hezbollah-controlled areas of Lebanon exploded. The assault would claim the lives of 42 people, including a minimum of 12 civilians, two health workers and two children. Estimates of those maimed ranged from 1,500 militants to 4000 civilians and later reports suggested plans for the attack had been formed over a decade prior.

It would come after almost a year of an intermittent exchange of fire between the Shia militant group and Israel, a front the former had opened in solidarity with Gaza following Hamas’ October 7 attacks that claimed the lives over 800 Israeli civilians. Ten days later, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu would stand in front of the UN General Assembly; “we’re not at war with you [the people of Lebanon], we’re at war with Hezbollah,” he claimed

But Maronite Catholic and mixed villages were not spared by Israeli brutality.

But Maronite Catholic and mixed villages were not spared by Israeli brutality. Images of destroyed churches flashed across our screens just as decimated mosques did. Church halls would take in displaced families as archbishops urged an end to the war. And 4,200km away sat Angel Nakhle, a Maronite Catholic and law student at Warwick, currently on her year abroad in France as entire suburbs of Beirut, the city she was born in, were levelled.

“They don’t care how many people they’re going to kill, they only see that goal – to erase Hezbollah,” says Angel. It’s a sobering statement but one that the families of the 4,000 killed, 16,000 injured and over a million displaced would likely attest to. The Israeli invasion ultimately led to the deaths of more than 200 children.

“What I care about is my people being protected, being able to prosper,” explains Angel. 

Her people? I ask.

“Everyone,” she responds – an affirmative rejection of decades of sectarian tensions between Muslims and Christians in the country. For Angel, her ‘people’ includes all sects of Lebanese society, as well as immigrants who have become part of the country, like the some 1.5 million Syrians who fled a devastating civil war on Lebanon’s eastern border. “We’re known to be mixed—Muslims, Christians—we’re one of the only Middle Eastern countries that have that diversity.” she continues, “I love that about Lebanon. I think the Middle East needs more of that.”

Yet her Maronite heritage isn’t an identity Angel seeks to shed in her embrace of a Lebanese society for all. In fact, it is in her Catholic faith the law student has found great comfort throughout the conflict. 

“Religion and faith are so important in these times,” she says. “It’s important your whole life; it’s a big part of who you are as a person,” both in peacetime and in conflict.

It’s easy to feel helpless in the face of war – watching entire apartment blocks in Beirut reduced to rubble, millions displaced, and your home turned into a battlefield. It is from abroad, far from the chaos, Angel turns to prayer. “When you feel helpless, what really is powerful is when you pray,” she explains. For her, prayer is a way of taking action not just a source of personal comfort, even when she cannot be physically present: “I’m praying this conflict ends, I’m praying the war will spare as many people as possible, I’m praying no more casualties will happen, that there’ll be peace.” 

Though unable to help directly, she does find solace in these rituals; “it keeps me feeling [as if] I am doing my part,” she shares “Keeping my country in my heart, it’s something that really keeps me going,” Angel says; her words are filled with compassion and resolve.

“It is really hard when you see what’s happening, as a person. You’re living in the UK. It’s very safe, but then you see what’s happening. It’s just really heartbreaking”; the weight of the situation is palpable in her voice. “You feel so useless,” she continues, pausing before adding, “It does break you a little bit, as a person.”

When you look at the news, you don’t realise those people that are dying also had dreams and hopes

 – Angel Nakhle

And despite the overwhelming sense of helplessness, it is in her Lebanese identity that Angel finds a sense of responsibility. “What really motivates me is I need to make my country proud – I need to show people that Lebanese people are not just people you see on the news,” she explains, determined to shift the narrative.

For Angel, the Lebanese spirit of persistence is something she admires: “We want to contribute to the world — when you look at the news, you don’t realise those people that are dying also had dreams and hopes,” she says, her tone tinged with sadness. 

Born into a post-9/11 world, most students at Warwick will have had little more than a first impression of near-constant conflict and political upheaval in the Middle East. So upon being asked if the region was too often condemned to eternal war, Angel jumped at the opportunity to shine a light on another side of the Arab world. 

“When people think of the Middle East, they think of conflict,” she laments. “Jordan is a welcoming country – they love to feed you,” she continues, a smile now touching her face, and “in Lebanon, people ask for your second name and they’ll know your family”. It’s a much more joyful, community-orientated side of life that, whether in peacetime or war goes overlooked by most Westerners in Angel’s view.

“No privacy though – you can’t escape,” she adds with a laugh that punctuates her evident affection for her homeland. “The culture, the community, they’re the things I really miss.”

What I really don’t understand, genuinely, is why war is always the answer

– Angel Nakhle

However, she feels there are potentially harmful misconceptions in Western discourse; “the Middle East is judged very easily – people don’t go to the Middle East because they think it’s dangerous.” And in some ways, Angel suggests, it is an attitude linked to colonisation: “The Middle East will never have peace until they become like the West,” or at least until there is peace between Israelis and Palestinians, she mourns.

Yet in the midst of these heartbreaking events, Angel manages to maintain a message of hope and empathy. “What I really don’t understand, genuinely, is why war is always the answer,” she says, with a clear frustration. “It just brings more destruction, if Israel’s goal is to erase Hezbollah, trust me, they’re not going to erase it that easily – they can come to an agreement together.” 

“You see it everywhere – signs that are for peace, for Palestine, for Lebanon” she notes. It’s an observation that would be familiar to all students as encampments in solidarity with Gaza were erected globally as Warwick Stands With Palestine have continued their attempts to disrupt university life at home.

Angel’s message is not a rejection of those that campaign for their version of justice in Palestine, Lebanon and the wider Levant region but rather a plea for empathy from those who perhaps feel detached from the cause. “I think what makes people scared is taking sides,” she explains. It is perhaps a timely discussion to be had as well; a Boar survey from June suggested almost half of Warwick students felt student politics ‘had become too toxic’.

Meanwhile, thousands of kilometres away from campus discourse, hundreds of thousands of Lebanese pupils were forced to put their education on hold as schools were converted into shelters for the displaced. In Gaza, there was no class of 2024; every university in the strip had been bombed by Israel by just the hundredth day of the onslaught.

As students, Angel encourages us to reflect on how we can empathise with those affected. “It is heartbreaking. Those children were never part of [this war], they are so blameless,” she laments. “They should be in their classrooms learning, and being able to pursue what they want, and their dreams.”

“Education is a human right. We’re seeing these kids not being able to exercise one of their human rights,” she says, her law studies particularly evident here. Angel’s advice to fellow students is simple but powerful: “Even if [you] don’t do a lot, talk about it, spread awareness on social media. Have a discussion about this – keep these children in mind.”

It stands as a stark reminder of our responsibilities towards others, regardless of whether one feels intimidated by the arguable complexity of the political context

“I don’t blame anyone,” she adds. For Angel, seeking to antagonise those who disagree, but have no power is divisive, futile even. “Who should be acting right now is the government, people in power—people who have things that they can change.” Nonetheless, Angel maintains that change can start when people work together. “If we keep pushing [for peace] as people, as students who have a platform– it is important to mention it. — It’s for the children, at the end of the day,” she stresses.

Angel also reminds students to recognise their luck, acknowledging her own struggles with education. “Being grateful, being able to realise your privilege—it helps you cope with your own education,” she says. “I know education is hard, it also pushes you. Once I get educated, maybe I can do something in that area later on in life, to give back.” 

Her message serves as a more unique call for action, one that urges students to use their platforms to advocate for peace and to remember the children who are losing their futures to war. It stands as a stark reminder of our responsibilities towards others regardless of whether one feels intimidated by the arguable complexity of the political context.

The conversation then turned to the summer’s riots. Angel, now living in the Black Country, came to the UK from Lebanon as an asylum-seeker, so the events of the summer hit particularly close to home. “Over the summer, we witnessed violent riots threatening asylum seeker accommodation from the fallout of the Southport stabbings, what was it like witnessing that?” I ask.

“It’s instilled fear in me, it was really shocking” she recalls. “I did not expect a lot of people to come out and be clearly and blatantly against [those seeking asylum in the UK]”. As hotels were set alight, mosques attacked and libraries looted, Angel, like many people of colour last summer felt deeply fearful in even stepping outside: “I was afraid of what might happen. I had to go to Manchester for my Visa appointment.”

“It’s something I’ve never witnessed before. I was scared going out on buses, going out on the street,” she admits, describing a sense of unease that permeated her daily life in the weeks following. The illogic of the rioters’ claims seemed so clear to the student, so when such horrific violence broke out across England, it was difficult to comprehend the scale. “It was so hard to witness. I don’t understand the guy who committed the crimes, he was Christian – but it was hatred towards Muslims,” she reflected on the painful contradictions of the violence.

Perhaps most poignantly, despite the fear and confusion around her at the time, Angel’s instinct was to return to the tragic loss of innocent young lives in the stabbings, much like how she had earlier spoken about the devastating events in Lebanon and in Gaza. For Angel, our focus should always be on the impact of violence on the innocent in our society, particularly children. “They’re just kids. They should be at home doing their homework or playing outside,” she laments.

Angel gives us a lesson in leading with empathy and thoughtfulness for all

Even in discussing the children who did participate in the riots, she reflects on the deeper forces at play, wanting to spotlight the dangers of “what kids are exposed to on the internet, what makes them commit these hate crimes”. “Their anger is aimed at the wrong thing. The problem is with the government and the media that portray immigrants as the problem,” she asserts, adding “I’m also a person with dreams and hopes, I’m not here to steal anyone’s jobs, I’m here to give back to a country that made me feel at home”.

It is in this approach that Angel gives us a lesson in leading with empathy and thoughtfulness for all: for the Israelis waiting hundreds of days for the return of their kidnapped relatives; the Palestinians starving in tents outside dilapidated hospitals or the Lebanese mothers burying their baby monitors in gardens, fearing they could explode at any moment —“It’s for the children, at the end of the day”.

“It’s really important that people, especially students, to keep them in our mind. It is a privilege that we are studying. I’m able to study at Warwick, to pursue my dreams, whereas a lot of Lebanese people right now are in camps, they’re displaced, it’s sad to see.” And in the context of this conflict, Angel’s own Maronite community, unrepresented by Hezbollah, is often forgotten whilst the fragile ceasefire struggles to hold. So armed with respect but little envy for those who devote their time towards anti-war movements, she jokes, “I’m so glad I don’t do politics.”

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