Meet Maryam. Inspired in part by Delacroix's famous French Revolution painting of Liberty Leading the People, Maryam is our own Lebanese helmswoman. Maryam represents Lebanon, but she is also every Lebanese. She knows the whole turbulent breadth of the Lebanese experience and wants to lead us forward in a way that honors our history and embraces a hopeful future. Maryam has suffered at the hands of greedy and selfish politicians; she has been robbed and sabotaged by internal corruption and external attacks. Weary yet determined, Maryam carries on for the sake of herself and her children.
Maryam is the brainchild of Executive, brought to life by Ivan Debs
Maryam faces a storm-lit sky, laurel crown in her hair, fist raised in defiance. Blood streaks on her face and arm signal real wounds, yet her stance is unwavering. The headline “Bloodied But Unbowed” turns pain into purpose—rage tempered by dignity. Together, image and text capture a collective push for justice despite repeated blows.
Maryam strides out of the rubble, draped in a torn dress patterned with the Lebanese flag. She stands above cowering suits—symbols of corruption—while a shattered city smolders behind her. Bloodied but fierce, her clenched fists and forward step signal refusal to be silenced. With “JUSTICE NOW,” the cover turns her stance into an uncompromising call for accountability.
Maryam emerges from a vibrant mural shouting “Free Lebanon,” “Unity,” and “Rights.” Two suited men roll dark paint over the wall, trying to blot out her colors and words. Maryam presses her hand against the crack, holding back the erasure. The cover frames a fight between civic freedom and those determined to silence it.
Maryam, draped in the Lebanese flag, walks barefoot along a tightrope under a stark white sun. Blindfolded, she embodies a nation feeling its way between revolt and revolution. Below, rows of suits watch—symbols of power hoping she slips. The scene captures Lebanon’s perilous balance: courage tested by risk, yet moving forward.
Maryam appears as a many-armed figure, serene at the center of a fractured cityscape. Each arm reaches in a different direction—work, home, care, struggle—signaling the overload she’s forced to juggle. A broken chain behind her hints at constraints she’s outgrowing, even as new demands crowd in. “An Impossible Balance” names the truth: Maryam keeps everything moving, but the cost is unsustainable.
Maryam rises above a crowd, draped in white and holding a healer’s staff. Behind her, a giant cannabis leaf blooms—signaling the debate over medical marijuana as a lifeline. Birds wheel in a calm sky while onlookers search her face for relief and direction. “It’s a Miracle” frames her as guardian of a strained system that still manages to care.
Maryam stands in chains, fist raised, as a masked figure prepares to cut into a newborn labeled “2018.” The table reads “Elections,” with scalpels and forceps laid out like instruments of harm. Below, limp figures stamped with past years show a cycle of broken promises. “NO TRUST!” sums it up: Maryam sees a rigged ritual where voters’ futures are carved up, not cared for.
Maryam strides over shattered ground, hoisting the Lebanese flag into a smoky sky. Behind her, a determined crowd—students, workers, mothers, children—falls in step. Her cloak becomes a banner, turning grief into forward motion. “ABOUT TIME” declares the moment: Maryam leads, and the country follows.
Maryam cuts through a washed, abstract backdrop, gaze steady and arm raised like a beacon. No flag, no podium—just a citizen claiming space and responsibility. The gold earrings and medallion glint like small badges of everyday courage. “HEROES OF DEMOCRACY” becomes a summons: Maryam—and those like her—are the ones we’re searching for.
Maryam is bound to a stake, eyes closed in endurance, as suited, lizard-masked “tax devils” tap her veins. They collect her blood like wine, feeding themselves while citizens hang on distant poles. Torn clothes and flying banknotes show what’s been stripped from her—and from the public. “BLEED TO FEED” indicts a system that drains Maryam to keep the predators full.
Maryam and her partner huddle on a red, target-like ground, glued to a phone and laptop yet feeling defenseless. Around them, towering suit-clad machines with single, unblinking eyes close in—surveillance made monstrous. Wires and clawed appendages suggest hacks that pierce privacy and public systems alike. “EXPOSED” warns that even Maryam, as part of a couple, is left vulnerable by weak cyberdefenses.