The passing of Joseph Samaha

I’m on the road. I arrived in Damascus from Amman by car about an hour ago. Now I’m settled in the Omayad Hotel which has wifi in the rooms. Great!
But I learned from commenter David that the veteran Lebanese journoJoseph Samaha has died. I agree it’s a huge loss to Middle Eastern intellectual life. David points out that As’ad Abu Khalil has a good post about Joseph on Angry Arab.
I have very little to add to that. As’ad knew Joseph much, much better than I did. I do remember a good evening we had in Beirut back in November 2004 with some friends who had invited a small number of other guests, of whom Joseph was one. It was an excellent conversation. (I knew his friend Fawaz Trabulsi a bit better than him, back in the 70s.)
Anyway, As’ad’s post is really informative. One of his longest ever; and it reveals a lot about what a great loss Joseph’s passing is. (It also tells us some nice things about As’ad. Maybe an increased sense of human connectedness is one of the legacies of the passing of a good person.)

6 thoughts on “The passing of Joseph Samaha”

  1. I came across a splendid quote by Joseph Samahah last September, via OSC. The context was Samahah’s take on Bush’s speeches where Bush asserts that the war can only be won through weapons and thoughts, and his attempts to convince the Senate to agree to using alternative methods in the investigations to permit the use of torture.
    Samahah memorably observed that “there is no need to agree to these alternative methods since watching Bush is torture enough.”

  2. I had never heard of Joseph Samaha. I was reading the enormous thread that developed out of As’ad’s short post and link to his critic Blankfort on Counterpunch. People started putting in items reporting the death of Samaha. Then As’ad’s long post appeared. I didn’t read it all until I saw your post just now, Helena. It’s a great portrait of a friend, and of a friendship. I wonder which one of them understood the other better? There is a peculiar remark about Samaha being “democratic” because he could have friends, even best friends, who disagreed with him, whereas As’ad regards himself as combative, and sharp. Is As’ad right? is that what “democratic” means? Or is As’ad actually the democratic one? How can you have democracy without dispute? It is the disputatious ones that give democracy life, isn’t it?

  3. Dominic,
    I may be wrong, but I think As’ad’s distinction is between one who can argue with the opposing thought, without shouting so loud as to drown him out, as opposed to one who has so little tolerance for “the other” that cannot withhold one’s wrath, hence precluding the possibility of any meaningful discourse. I think it is in that sense that As’ad considers Samahah “democratic” and himself “combative”.
    I don’t know about your comfort level with Arabic, but if you are interested many of his best talks and articles have been translated. But as As’ad points out, his command of Arabic was rare. Especially his use of “eehaam”, usage of a word in three or four different meanings in a position where each meaning adds a different perspective and all meanings are true in the applied context, was extraordinary. And the content was usually more beautiful than the style.

  4. «جو لو بو»: زاوية في قلبي انطفأت
    سحر مندور
    قال لي يوماً: كلما ناديتني «سماحة» رفّ قلبي.
    ومنذ ذلك الحين، لم أعد أعرف كيف أنطقها. أخاف أن أقولها مرة من دون أن يرق قلبه لها، فأرتبك. قرّرت أن أنهي تردّدي، ورحت أناديه: «جو لو بو». هكذا، بالفرنسية، «جو الوسيم».
    يقف فجأة في اجتماع التحرير في جريدة «السفير»، يوم كان رئيس تحريرها، ويخرج على عجل ليجيب على هاتفه الخلوي. كنا نظنّ، نحن المجتمعين هناك، أنه تلقى اتصالاً من وزير أو زعيم ما. في إحدى المرّات، اتصلت به وقت الاجتماع، وأجاب. فاكتشفت حينذاك، أنا ووسام سعادة، أنه يجيب على اتصال وسام وعلى اتصالي مثلما يجيب زعيماً، أو وزيرة. أو ربّما، كان يتحجّج بنا، وبأي وزير وزعيم، ليهرب من اجتماع إلى موعد غدائه الثابت، عند الواحدة والنصف ظهراً.
    جعلني صحافية وجعل خالد صحافياً. منحه ملحقاً ومنحني، من دون سابق إنذار، وظيفة. مرّ بمكتب «الشباب» الذي كنت أزوره في «السفير» وطلب منّي دخول اجتماع. ضحكت للنكتة، لم يضحك هو. أظن أنها لم تكن نكتة. أدخل الاجتماع. يقول لي: أنت موظّفة هنا، أين تريدين أن تكتبي؟.
    أغرمت به كما تغرم المراهقة بأبيها. عشت «أوديب» معه طويلاً وكنّا نضحك، أنا وإياه، من أوديب الذي حلّ متأخراً. أبي بعيد عني، هو كان قريباً، وبخجل من العواطف يريحني. يمنحني المال كي أسافر، يحتضنني كل صباح في «السفير»، ويأمرني بقراءة صفحات وصفحات انتقاها لي مما يقرأه يومياً قبل العاشرة صباحاً، ثم يطلب لي القهوة.
    اغتيل سمير قصير، هرعت إلى مكتبه لأحتضنه. لقد فقد صديقه. قلت له: ماذا ستكتب؟ هزّ برأسه مثلما يفعل دائماً، تاركاً للحاضرين حرية فهم مغزى هزة الرأس هذه. أمرته: سترثيه، أنت صديقه. قال: لا أعرف كيف، لا أعرف. وكتب في اليوم التالي افتتاحيته التي شرح فيها فكر سمير، ولم يقل في الحب وفي الوداع أكثر من ثلاث كلمات: «سمير قصير، زاوية في القلب انطفأت».
    سماحة، أمس، زاوية في قلبي انطفأت.
    http://www.al-akhbar.com/ar/node/23525

  5. I would like to send my condolences to Joseph Samaha who was a great loss to Lebanon. I met him while conducting my research for my MS in journalism in July 1997. He was one of the journalists I interviewed and actually the most helpful. He spent hours with me discussing the foreign media and how journalists in Lebanon interpret it. I learned so much from being around him and he made me feel so welcome. I kept him in mind for many years, but unfortunately never went to see him and thank him for helping me out. I really regret not doing that. I was so saddened to hear about his death and that Lebanon lost such a smart and patriotic person. He will be missed.

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