Redux: Beirut Reborn But Losing Part of Its History
Beirut Reborn
Beirut Diaries
A History of Hope
Left: Beirut During 1975-1990 Civil War. Right: Same spot. Beirut reborn.
I often write critically of Lebanon. But my criticism is never an attack against the descent Lebanese. It is an attack against certain strains within Lebanese culture that I do not like: ultra-nationalism, racism and, especially, sectarianism.
In that the Lebanese are no different than any other people. Some are awful people with absurd delusions, but most are decent folk.
And I have a lot of fascination for Lebanon. Everything I read about the place speaks of a nation with great energy and where people live for the last moment. Beirut truly seems one of the most imaginative place in the world: thriving night life, excellent cuisine and some really stunning architecture.
The Civil War did great damage, but the city and nation are currently undergoing one of the most impressive rebuilding efforts which are making Beirut once more a jewel.
And Beirut is once again becoming a tourist attraction. And, quite smartly, is not interested in packaged tours but seeking rebirth as a vogue destination.
I’ve been reading a lot about Beirut in recent months and in that effort wanted to write a post highlighting a lot of what’s been done in the city recently:
Lebanese food, for me, ranks as among the best. Don’t believe me? Just read this blog: Taste of Beirut.
Redux: But this rebuilding is destroying a lot of the architecture and history in the city:
On a recent Saturday night in the Gemmayze district of Beirut, hundreds filled the streets, holding candles and waving signs to protest the destruction of the historic French colonial and Ottoman-era buildings that give this city its character. OUR HISTORY IS NOT FOR SALE read one. Another said BEIRUT IS NOT DUBAI.It certainly looks like it’s trying to be. Once known as the “Paris of the Middle East,” the city is now becoming an eyesore as it attempts to mimic the development of other regional business hubs.
Cranes and jackhammers have become as integral to Beirut’s urban landscape as the Ottoman and French architecture that once dotted the streets. A recent United Nations Development Program report said that Beirut will add 300,000 new buildings in the next decade, leaving the already-crowded city with virtually no public spaces. The country’s 15-year civil war, from 1975 to 1990, turned the capital into rubble, and now developers are rebuilding it with an eye toward dollars instead of toward repairing the religious rifts that caused the war in the first place.
With the downtown area turned to rubble, Solidere, a public-private partnership, moved in to begin the hard work of reconstruction. Critics, and there are many, say Solidere demolished the city center to erase all memory of the conflict and to build the Beirut of Hariri’s dreams, a modern cultural and economic hub that mimics the style of buildings found in the old city, but lacks the soul.
Yet the Solidere project priced out most of the Lebanese who used to live and work there. As mixed-income housing gave way to luxury buildings targeting rich Gulf Arab investors and expatriates, the 150,000 people who once lived downtown were forced to move farther out. “Beirut is no longer for the Lebanese,” became a common refrain. “Solidere has become a victim of its own success,” admits Gavin. “But you have to remember that in the beginning it was by no means clear that anyone would want to come back.”
Slowly, however, things are beginning to look up. Lebanon’s culture minister, Salim Warde, must now sign any order to demolish historic buildings. When a building in Mar Mikhael was recently ruined by its owner, in what some say was a deliberate attempt to have the structure taken off the “protected buildings” list, a group of activists, including Warde, arrived on the scene to stop the destruction. And Warde recently set up a hotline for citizens to report buildings that are being destroyed illegally.
Social media have also helped. Members of the Save Beirut Heritage movement can find each other and share information, as well as mobilize demonstrations. Netizens have sent photos of buildings being torn down to the group’s Facebook page, turning the site into a virtual city center for young preservationists’ dreams. “Maybe Facebook will save this city in the end,” Tarraf says. He’s only half joking.
Lebanon needs to be rebuild, but it should be done 1) with care and 2) first of the Lebanese still living in Lebanon.
Beirut has its own charm and should not seek to mimic Dubai. It is a shame that so much is being lost, as if for the second time. The architecture is historic and needs to be saved. A building like this deserves a second chance and not a demolition:
A reborn Beirut also has to be a Beirut which secures its charm, uniqueness and soul. A city not with skyscrapers, but with character. That is Beirut. Still not too late to save it.
