I’m in Beirut for the first time in 14 years and can only say that the Lebanese are experts at carrying on regardless. I don’t need a flak jacket after all.
Strolling around Downtown, one would think the city is booming. People are out and about in the cafes and restaurants taking advantage of spring weather, seemingly oblivious that their homeland, under the cloud of political instability, is on the brink of bankruptcy. And despite Lebanon’s proximity to war-torn Syria and the sporadic targeted explosions that we see on the news, the capital gives the impression of being peaceful and dare I say, even serene.
In reality, Lebanon is a ticking time bomb, mostly through no fault of its own. And among the political elites I’ve been speaking with there are those who resent the fact that the international community has abandoned Beirut as being irrelevant to its prevailing geopolitical/economic interests. Concurrently, the country’s relations with GCC member countries have cooled.
Revenues from tourism have plummeted, partly because tourists from Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states, who’ve considered Beirut as their go-to vacation destination for decades, are largely staying away for two reasons: the perception that the country isn’t safe and also due to the fact GCC states do not approve of Lebanon’s diplomatic stance on the Syrian conflict, even though most Lebanese politicians support the Syrian opposition. Likewise, Arab investors have fled. In reality, Hezbollah, whose military wing is fighting alongside Bashar Al Assad’s forces, is tying the government’s hands, so it’s a shame that all Lebanese are being made to suffer when they’ve endured so much.
Added to the above is an accrued public debt of $65 billion (Dh239 billion)—one of the world’s largest—as well as a 31 percent budget deficit and you don’t have to be an economist to realise the situation’s gravity. Worse, union leaders seeking pay increases are calling for strikes without consideration for the country’s existing financial dilemma or where those extra funds can be sourced.
Former Prime Minister Fouad Siniora has lobbied parliament to raise taxes, slightly increase charges for electricity and cut the wages of university professors and judges, measures which may be necessary, but aren’t exactly vote-winning. Perhaps Lebanon would be able to muddle through this crisis as it’s always done if it weren’t for the burden of over one million Syrian refugees on its soil, a number expected to increase to 1.5 million by year’s end. Add to that 500,000 Palestinian refugees and it’s obvious that such a small country cannot cope with the influx and shouldn’t be expected to do so alone.
The tidal wave of desperate Syrians, many arriving with nothing other than a bundle of clothing, is not only burdening the economy but is also fraying Lebanon’s delicate social fabric. Xenophobia has started to manifest because citizens worry that Syrians willing to accept up to 40 percent less than the minimum wage are taking Lebanese jobs. Some Syrian parents unable to make ends meet force their children to beg on the capital’s streets where those kids are sometimes abducted and abused.
Rocketing rents
While it’s easy to empathise with traumatised Syrians, it’s understandable that the Lebanese suffering high inflation, rocketing rents and soaring prices are feeling swamped and insecure about their own futures. Minister of Social Affairs Rachid Derbas, who calls for stricter controls of refugees on border regions, says this should be an Arab plight; he’s also accused the international community of turning “Lebanon into a container for the Syrian refugees who feel safe and secure among us.” A minority of parliamentarians are calling for refugees to be repatriated to ‘safe’ areas of Syria when there are none. Others propagate the idea that they should be confined to camps close to the border. Neither solution is acceptable from a humanitarian standpoint.
As I’ve discovered while talking with various political decision makers, disillusionment with the international community is prevalent together with disappointment at the lack of material support provided by the GCC. Lebanon requires a massive injection of cash to cope with the basic needs of refugees, but thus far all it’s received are pledges.
It’s shameful that while big powers are quick to kick Lebanon around like a football during their proxy wars when this Arab country calls out for help, those same powers turn a deaf ear. As someone who first fell in love with Lebanon during its heyday in the early 1970s and understands firsthand its potential, I’m saddened to see it being deserted by its traditional friends. True friends aren’t merely those who celebrate along with you when the good times roll; true friends are the ones who rush to your aid when the chips are down. Lebanon is asking, “Where are they?”
Linda S. Heard is a British specialist writer on Middle East affairs. She welcomes feedback and can be contacted by email at heardonthegrapevines@yahoo.co.uk.
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No sign of Lebanon’s friends in times of need
Posted on April 30, 2014 by Linda S. Heard
I’m in Beirut for the first time in 14 years and can only say that the Lebanese are experts at carrying on regardless. I don’t need a flak jacket after all.
Strolling around Downtown, one would think the city is booming. People are out and about in the cafes and restaurants taking advantage of spring weather, seemingly oblivious that their homeland, under the cloud of political instability, is on the brink of bankruptcy. And despite Lebanon’s proximity to war-torn Syria and the sporadic targeted explosions that we see on the news, the capital gives the impression of being peaceful and dare I say, even serene.
In reality, Lebanon is a ticking time bomb, mostly through no fault of its own. And among the political elites I’ve been speaking with there are those who resent the fact that the international community has abandoned Beirut as being irrelevant to its prevailing geopolitical/economic interests. Concurrently, the country’s relations with GCC member countries have cooled.
Revenues from tourism have plummeted, partly because tourists from Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states, who’ve considered Beirut as their go-to vacation destination for decades, are largely staying away for two reasons: the perception that the country isn’t safe and also due to the fact GCC states do not approve of Lebanon’s diplomatic stance on the Syrian conflict, even though most Lebanese politicians support the Syrian opposition. Likewise, Arab investors have fled. In reality, Hezbollah, whose military wing is fighting alongside Bashar Al Assad’s forces, is tying the government’s hands, so it’s a shame that all Lebanese are being made to suffer when they’ve endured so much.
Added to the above is an accrued public debt of $65 billion (Dh239 billion)—one of the world’s largest—as well as a 31 percent budget deficit and you don’t have to be an economist to realise the situation’s gravity. Worse, union leaders seeking pay increases are calling for strikes without consideration for the country’s existing financial dilemma or where those extra funds can be sourced.
Former Prime Minister Fouad Siniora has lobbied parliament to raise taxes, slightly increase charges for electricity and cut the wages of university professors and judges, measures which may be necessary, but aren’t exactly vote-winning. Perhaps Lebanon would be able to muddle through this crisis as it’s always done if it weren’t for the burden of over one million Syrian refugees on its soil, a number expected to increase to 1.5 million by year’s end. Add to that 500,000 Palestinian refugees and it’s obvious that such a small country cannot cope with the influx and shouldn’t be expected to do so alone.
The tidal wave of desperate Syrians, many arriving with nothing other than a bundle of clothing, is not only burdening the economy but is also fraying Lebanon’s delicate social fabric. Xenophobia has started to manifest because citizens worry that Syrians willing to accept up to 40 percent less than the minimum wage are taking Lebanese jobs. Some Syrian parents unable to make ends meet force their children to beg on the capital’s streets where those kids are sometimes abducted and abused.
Rocketing rents
While it’s easy to empathise with traumatised Syrians, it’s understandable that the Lebanese suffering high inflation, rocketing rents and soaring prices are feeling swamped and insecure about their own futures. Minister of Social Affairs Rachid Derbas, who calls for stricter controls of refugees on border regions, says this should be an Arab plight; he’s also accused the international community of turning “Lebanon into a container for the Syrian refugees who feel safe and secure among us.” A minority of parliamentarians are calling for refugees to be repatriated to ‘safe’ areas of Syria when there are none. Others propagate the idea that they should be confined to camps close to the border. Neither solution is acceptable from a humanitarian standpoint.
As I’ve discovered while talking with various political decision makers, disillusionment with the international community is prevalent together with disappointment at the lack of material support provided by the GCC. Lebanon requires a massive injection of cash to cope with the basic needs of refugees, but thus far all it’s received are pledges.
It’s shameful that while big powers are quick to kick Lebanon around like a football during their proxy wars when this Arab country calls out for help, those same powers turn a deaf ear. As someone who first fell in love with Lebanon during its heyday in the early 1970s and understands firsthand its potential, I’m saddened to see it being deserted by its traditional friends. True friends aren’t merely those who celebrate along with you when the good times roll; true friends are the ones who rush to your aid when the chips are down. Lebanon is asking, “Where are they?”
Linda S. Heard is a British specialist writer on Middle East affairs. She welcomes feedback and can be contacted by email at heardonthegrapevines@yahoo.co.uk.