There is something profoundly disturbing in this image reported by the New York Times: thousands of Lebanese driven from their homes by Israeli bombardments, forced to sleep on Beirut's waterfront promenade, while others quietly continue their morning jogs, walk their dogs, or pedal their racing bikes.
This cohabitation is not a picturesque detail. It reveals one of the most insidious perversions of our time: our collective capacity to normalize the unacceptable.
The Indecency of Routine
Read more: trump pushes israelLet me be clear: I don't blame Beirut's joggers for continuing to run. Read more: killing doctors becomes Everyone survives as they can, and maintaining one's habits in the face of chaos sometimes stems from preservation instinct. What disturbs me is what this scene reveals about our relationship to others' suffering when it becomes familiar.
After all, how can one step over entire families taking refuge on a sidewalk while focusing on one's stopwatch? How can one walk their dog to relieve itself mere meters from children who no longer have a roof? This capacity for adaptation isn't resilience—it's moral anesthesia.
Lebanon has been living this proxy war for decades. Israeli bombardments are no longer exceptional events; they've become the background noise of a society that has learned to function despite everything. But at what cost?
The Geography of Indifference
This Beirut corniche crystallizes all the inequalities of the contemporary world. On one side, those who still have the means to maintain their leisure, their bourgeois rituals, their small daily comforts. On the other, those whom violence has stripped of everything, reduced to squatting in public space.
And between the two? Nothing. No visible solidarity, no collective emotion, not even apparent embarrassment. Just this obscene coexistence that says everything about our era: we have learned to live with the intolerable as long as it doesn't touch us directly.
This indifference isn't specifically Lebanese. It's universal. How many times have we looked away from a homeless person to check our phones? How many times have we continued our worldly conversations while stepping over misery?
The Failure of Institutions
But this normalization of the abnormal reveals above all the collapse of institutions supposed to protect the most vulnerable. Where is the Lebanese state in this story? Where are the international organizations? Where are those famous "humanitarian corridors" we keep hearing about?
Thousands of people sleep in the open air in a capital city, and the system's only response is silence. Worse: it's adaptation. We get used to it, we organize ourselves, we make do. The displaced find their bearings on the corniche, joggers adapt their route. Everyone accommodates.
This collective resignation suits everyone: Lebanese authorities who no longer have the means to assume their responsibilities, the international community that can continue pretending to be indignant without changing anything, and even ordinary citizens who can continue their little lives without feeling guilty.
War as Scenery
What's playing out on this Beirut promenade is the transformation of war into scenery. The displaced become elements of the urban landscape, just like palm trees or public benches. We get used to them, we no longer see them.
This aestheticization of suffering isn't new. Our screens have taught us to consume the world's misery as spectacle. But when this logic settles into real life, when it structures a city's social relations, it reveals something deeper: our collective inability to keep indignation alive.
Because indignation, contrary to what we believe, isn't a spontaneous feeling. It's a constant moral effort, vigilance at every moment. And this effort, apparently, we no longer have the strength to provide.
The Urgency of Awakening
This Beirut scene should wake us up. It should remind us that normalcy is never neutral: it's always someone's choice. Choosing to continue jogging while families sleep on the ground is choosing one's comfort over their dignity.
Of course, one can always invoke individual powerlessness in the face of great collective dramas. But this excuse doesn't hold: it's not about solving the Israeli-Lebanese conflict in one morning, it's about refusing to let others' suffering become invisible.
The real question isn't whether these joggers are bad people. The real question is understanding how we got here: how we built societies capable of digesting any horror as long as it doesn't disturb our habits.
On Beirut's corniche, this March morning in 2026, our era's drama plays out in miniature: indifference erected as a system, resignation disguised as wisdom, and the programmed forgetting of our common humanity.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: What does the article "Beirut or the Obscenity of Normalcy in Wartime" discuss?
The article examines the disturbing contrast in Beirut where some residents continue their daily routines, such as jogging and walking dogs, while thousands of others are displaced and living on the streets due to Israeli bombardments. It highlights the moral implications of this coexistence and the normalization of suffering in society.
Q: How does the author describe the behavior of Beirut's joggers?
The author suggests that the joggers' behavior reflects a survival instinct, but it also points to a troubling moral indifference. The ability to maintain personal routines in the face of others' suffering is described as a form of "moral anesthesia," indicating a disconnect from the realities of those in distress.
Q: What broader message does the article convey about societal indifference?
The article argues that the indifference observed in Beirut is not unique to Lebanon but is a universal issue. It critiques how societies can become desensitized to suffering, allowing individuals to coexist with violence and hardship as long as it does not directly affect them.