When Theatre Can Wait: The ambiguity of silence in activist theatre

On October 17, 2019, riots broke out in Lebanon in response to heightened economic pressure and corruption scandals surrounding the political elite. Within days, Lebanon witnessed one of its largest protests with people flooding the streets across the country and repurposing public spaces. As a resident at the time and activist in solidarity, I searched for theatre arts initiatives within the protest movement. A colleague ended my hunt with one, clear statement: “Theatre can wait.” She argued that this was a time to regroup, to stand en masse with people in the streets. Only a few months later, the pandemic-induced lockdown that swept over Lebanon and abroad enforced another form of silence on theatre artists and activists. The streets went quiet, theatres stood empty, doors were shut. In both of these instances, with or without deliberation, theatre stood still. My colleague's words during the protests - and the context of pandemic lockdown that followed - led me to question when, if at all, theatre should be silent, specifically within the activist initiatives. In the midst of protest movements, what is the significance of socially engaged theatre practice that is still: is it a reflective pause, an opportunity to (re)consider activist strategies, to collectively listen and gather strength? If so, how is the significance of silence transformed when it is imposed by physical restrictions? The following provocation argues that engaging with the idea of silence is an essential skill within the context of socio-political urgency and protest-led calls to action that resound globally today.