The Beirut Blast: A Week On

The Beirut Blast: A Week On

The Beirut Blast: A Week On

By : Mona Fawaz, Mona Harb, Howayda Al-Harithy, and Ahmad Gharbieh

As we write this short reflection, the Beirut Port’s explosion of 4 August 2020 still runs deep shockwaves through every one of us. We are just beginning to absorb the unmeasurable losses that have fallen on our city and its people. Some 2,700 tons of Ammonium Nitrate were callously stored in a port hangar, in close vicinities of residential neighborhoods, for six years. It happened with the full knowledge of successive port authorities, customs’ officials, and many other public officials (and unofficials). They detonated as if to announce the resounding end of an era: Lebanon’s post-civil war corrupt order could not have gone down peacefully. Almost a week later, the city is mourning its dead, young and old, while most rescue teams are discontinuing their efforts to locate the remaining missing people. Bodies pile up in morgues awaiting to be identified by loved ones. Eager phones still ring to assuage the fears of friends and families, while confirming sadly the pain and losses of others. The city’s soundscapes are occupied by the screeching sounds of broken glass while trash piles up alongside debris and personal belongings. Generations of Beirutis who have gone through accumulated experiences of senseless wars desperately attempt to repress memories of earlier traumas and to convince themselves and younger ones that they are not condemned to reproduce earlier cycles of violence. The loss of life is substantial and cuts across layers of society. They include workers such as the Lebanese and migrant men who manned the city’s port at the time of the explosion and the guards who protected businesses in the vicinities. They also include wives and husbands, moms and dads, daughters and sons who were working nearby, passing by, or just sitting at home, conducting their normal lives. At least seven thousand individuals were wounded, 220 counted dead so far, 110 others still missing (Beirut City Governor, 9 August 2020). These numbers are expected to rise.

About eighty thousand homes were damaged and thousands of families are left homeless. The immediately surrounding neighborhoods of the port are formed of a mosaic of urban fabrics, arrays of residential, commercial, institutional, and religious buildings, historical and new, modest and luxurious. Apartments were blast open, businesses lost—whether small grocery stores or high-end restaurants, pubs, bars, workshops, ateliers, offices, or rooms for rent. Schools, hospitals, and daycares will no longer be able to teach, heal, soothe, or care.

 
Karantina (Photo: Mona Fawaz)
Karantina neighborhood. Photo by Mona Fawaz.

Karantina (Photo: Mona Fawaz)
Karantina neighborhood. Photo by Mona Fawaz.

If the blast effects spread to the entire city, the severe damage was primarily to the neighborhoods surrounding the port: Badawi and Karantina are the remaining historical working-class districts of the city; while nearby Gemmayzeh, Geitawi, and Mar Mikhael have been gentrifying for at least a decade. Karantina—the site of one of the first civil war massacres and the city’s historical workers’ warehouse district—experienced one more immense devastation hitting its vulnerable populations and fragile homes, some of which having crumbled. Immediately east of the port, Mar Mikhael and Gemmayzeh, where some of the only remaining clusters of Ottoman and French Mandate heritage buildings still stand, numerous structures display structural cracks, broken balconies, fallen façades, and more. Every building here and around has lost windows, doors, and often more. In Beirut’s historic core turned into a high-end downtown, building façades and large-scale glass panes and window frames have blown to pieces, eviscerating millions of public and private US dollars. The port, Beirut’s main lifeline where about eighty percent of direly needed food imports flow, is severely scathed and its full repair expected to drag over years. Beyond those vicinities, the impacts of the explosion expanded to all of Beirut’s districts, well beyond the limits of municipal Beirut, affecting homes, offices and shops in districts such as Badaro, Jnah, Ghobeiri, Furn al-Chebbak, Dora, Bourj Hammoud, and Sin el-Fil where glass panes were shattered, aluminum and wood doors and windows blown up.

In Karantina, an old building shows a structural break in its wall (Photo: Soha Mneimneh)
In Karantina, an old building shows a structural break in its wall. Photo by Soha Mneimneh.

In Geitawi, homes are exposed after the building facade crumbled (Photo: Mona Fawaz)
In Geitawi, homes are exposed after the building facade crumbled. Photo by Mona Fawaz.

In Mar Mikhael, a café and bookshop is in ruins (Photo: Ahmad Gharbieh)
In Mar Mikhael, a cafe and bookshop is in ruins. Photo by Ahmad Gharbieh.

In Gemmayzeh, old and new buildings are equally devastated (Photo: Ahmad Gharbieh)
In Gemmayzeh, old and new buildings are equally devastated. Photo by Ahmad Gharbieh.

It is poignantly flagrant that, yet again, it is city dwellers who are securing the first responses. Streets are filled with volunteers armed with brooms and shovels, helping clear up the rubble and wreckage, distributing water and food. Some are assisting friends; others are here to express solidarity by offering a helping hand or provide aid. In contrast to this vibrant mobilization, central and local government responses are slow, failing to put forward an immediate emergency plan or to organize an effective relief strategy. Rather than coordinators, state agents blend in the crowd of actors on the ground. Thus, agents of the police forces and the civil defense work side by side with members of political parties, non-profit organizations, religious and humanitarian groups, scouts, students, university volunteers, and many others.

Volunteers clean the rubble in Mar Mikhael (Photo: Mona Fawaz)
In Mar Mikhael, volunteers clean the rubble. Photo by Mona Fawaz.

Volunteers in Gemmayzeh (Photo: Mona Harb)
Volunteers in Gemmayzeh. Photo: Mona Harb.


In parallel, anger is mounting as people reckon with the devastating failure of the Lebanese political system to protect their livelihoods. Everywhere, conversations reflect distrust towards public representatives. When they ventured inside neighborhoods, the latter were received with verbal and physical insults. People are juggling multiple crises: they are exhausted by months of lock-down imposed by the COVID-19 response, weakened by the financial meltdown that has wiped out life savings and reduced the purchasing power of most segments of society to mere survival, threatened by the scarcity of food items, and frightened by rising levels of poverty now estimated at fifty percent by the World Bank. While they may disagree on the triggers behind this criminal act, most people are voicing outrage about the callousness of successive representatives and decades of unaccountable governance. The explosion is indeed experienced by many as a war on people, and the city boils with calls for protests in line with those we witnessed over the weekend.

Protest on Saturday, August 8, when tear gas and live ammunition were fired at protesters, and more than 700 were injured (Photo: Dounia Salamé)
Protest on Saturday, August 8, when tear gas and live ammunition were fired at protesters, and more than 700 were injured (Photo: Dounia Salamé)

Looking forward, it has become evident that recovery will be a tedious path. The fear is that the post-blast reconstruction will come to consolidate the very forces that led to the demolition of Beirut’s neighborhoods. We are reminded of the ways in which the post-civil war process of Beirut’s historic core in the early 1990s consolidated the divisions generated by the civil war on the city: how it severed the historical core from its connections to other urban districts through a network of highways, ripped the multitude of small scale claimants from their property rights, wiped out heritage buildings or voided them from their social and communal meanings, and handed over the management of recovery to a private real-estate company—Solidère, whose main goal has been to maximize speculative property investments for its shareholders. The outcome, visible to date, is a nameless “downtown” bereft of life, claimed mostly by banks and speculative investors, and unable to contribute to the life of the country beyond acting as the site of angry protests.

One of many banks in Beirut's historic core, devastated large-glass facades is a typical sight in the area (Photo: Mona Harb)
One of many banks in Beirut's historic core. Devastated large-glass facades is a typical sight in the area. Photo by Mona Harb.

Starco Tower, a landmark modern building in Beirut Downtown, has been severely affected (Photo: Mona Harb)
Starco Tower, a landmark modern building in Downtown Beirut, has been severely affected. Photo by Mona Harb.

Similarly, the postwar reconstruction of the 2006 Israeli war on Lebanon consolidated districts of Beirut’s suburbs and South Lebanon as political territory, placing the entire task of the postwar project in the hands of Hizballah and foreclosing any discussion about the relation of neighborhoods such as Haret Hreik to other districts of the city, preventing a communal discussion of urban livability, blocking the possibility of imagining an urban recovery where everyday practices are prioritized over capital interests or security concerns. A looming nightmare scenario would make of the post-blast reconstruction an occasion to consolidate the devastation brought about by the explosion. It could leave the districts severely hit by the blast to deteriorate slowly until the next economic cycle continues the gentrification process that has been wiping out the impoverished elderly population, the vibrant energy of struggling youth, and small industries. If aid and capital were to flow without consideration for people, it could also speed up gentrification, destroying another important pillar of Beirut’s history.

In a city abandoned by public institutions for decades, in a country stricken by bankruptcy and dominated by sectarian politics, many people struggle to organize their lives through non-partisan social and spatial infrastructures of mutual support and exchange. Any recovery process should start from there. Social and economic networks, both formal and informal, both tangible and intangible, need to be restored and empowered, including sites of shared memories and social significance. Beyond humanitarian aid and relief, a community-based recovery that is inclusive, participatory and environmentally-conscious needs to be envisioned and put on track; one that does not only reconstructs physical structures but also addresses the injustices and vulnerabilities that existed before the blast in order to build a stronger community, brought together by multiple social ties, local economic activities, and rich cultural heritage.


[This article was originally published by Beirut Urban Lab]

Past is Present: Settler Colonialism Matters!

On 5-6 March 2011, the Palestine Society at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London will hold its seventh annual conference, "Past is Present: Settler Colonialism in Palestine." This year`s conference aims to understand Zionism as a settler colonial project which has, for more than a century, subjected Palestine and Palestinians to a structural and violent form of destruction, dispossession, land appropriation and erasure in the pursuit of a new Jewish Israeli society. By organizing this conference, we hope to reclaim and revive the settler colonial paradigm and to outline its potential to inform and guide political strategy and mobilization.

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is often described as unique and exceptional with little resemblance to other historical or ongoing colonial conflicts. Yet, for Zionism, like other settler colonial projects such as the British colonization of Ireland or European settlement of North America, South Africa or Australia, the imperative is to control the land and its resources -- and to displace the original inhabitants. Indeed, as conference keynote speaker Patrick Wolfe, one of the foremost scholars on settler colonialism and professor at La Trobe University in Victoria, Australia, argues, "the logic of this project, a sustained institutional tendency to eliminate the Indigenous population, informs a range of historical practices that might otherwise appear distinct--invasion is a structure not an event."[i]

Therefore, the classification of the Zionist movement as a settler colonial project, and the Israeli state as its manifestation, is not merely intended as a statement on the historical origins of Israel, nor as a rhetorical or polemical device. Rather, the aim is to highlight Zionism`s structural continuities and the ideology which informs Israeli policies and practices in Palestine and toward Palestinians everywhere. Thus, the Nakba -- whether viewed as a spontaneous, violent episode in war, or the implementation of a preconceived master plan -- should be understood as both the precondition for the creation of Israel and the logical outcome of Zionist settlement in Palestine.

Moreover, it is this same logic that sustains the continuation of the Nakba today. As remarked by Benny Morris, “had he [David Ben Gurion] carried out full expulsion--rather than partial--he would have stabilised the State of Israel for generations.”[ii] Yet, plagued by an “instability”--defined by the very existence of the Palestinian nation--Israel continues its daily state practices in its quest to fulfill Zionism’s logic to maximize the amount of land under its control with the minimum number of Palestinians on it. These practices take a painful array of manifestations: aerial and maritime bombardment, massacre and invasion, house demolitions, land theft, identity card confiscation, racist laws and loyalty tests, the wall, the siege on Gaza, cultural appropriation, and the dependence on willing (or unwilling) native collaboration and security arrangements, all with the continued support and backing of imperial power. 

Despite these enduring practices however, the settler colonial paradigm has largely fallen into disuse. As a paradigm, it once served as a primary ideological and political framework for all Palestinian political factions and trends, and informed the intellectual work of committed academics and revolutionary scholars, both Palestinians and Jews.

The conference thus asks where and why the settler colonial paradigm was lost, both in scholarship on Palestine and in politics; how do current analyses and theoretical trends that have arisen in its place address present and historical realities? While acknowledging the creativity of these new interpretations, we must nonetheless ask: when exactly did Palestinian natives find themselves in a "post-colonial" condition? When did the ongoing struggle over land become a "post-conflict" situation? When did Israel become a "post-Zionist" society? And when did the fortification of Palestinian ghettos and reservations become "state-building"?

In outlining settler colonialism as a central paradigm from which to understand Palestine, this conference re-invigorates it as a tool by which to analyze the present situation. In doing so, it contests solutions which accommodate Zionism, and more significantly, builds settler colonialism as a political analysis that can embolden and inform a strategy of active, mutual, and principled Palestinian alignment with the Arab struggle for self-determination, and indigenous struggles in the US, Latin America, Oceania, and elsewhere.

Such an alignment would expand the tools available to Palestinians and their solidarity movement, and reconnect the struggle to its own history of anti-colonial internationalism. At its core, this internationalism asserts that the Palestinian struggle against Zionist settler colonialism can only be won when it is embedded within, and empowered by, the broader Arab movement for emancipation and the indigenous, anti-racist and anti-colonial movement--from Arizona to Auckland.

SOAS Palestine Society invites everyone to join us at what promises to be a significant intervention in Palestine activism and scholarship.

For over 30 years, SOAS Palestine Society has heightened awareness and understanding of the Palestinian people, their rights, culture, and struggle for self-determination, amongst students, faculty, staff, and the broader public. SOAS Palestine society aims to continuously push the frontiers of discourse in an effort to make provocative arguments and to stimulate debate and organizing for justice in Palestine through relevant conferences, and events ranging from the intellectual and political impact of Edward Said`s life and work (2004), international law and the Palestine question (2005), the economy of Palestine and its occupation (2006), the one state (2007), 60 Years of Nakba, 60 Years of Resistance (2009), and most recently, the Left in Palestine (2010).

For more information on the SOAS Palestine Society 7th annual conference, Past is Present: Settler Colonialism in Palestine: www.soaspalsoc.org

SOAS Palestine Society Organizing Collective is a group of committed students that has undertaken to organize annual academic conferences on Palestine since 2003.

 


[i] Patrick Wolfe, Settler Colonialism and the Transformation of Anthropology: The Politics and Poetics of an Ethnographic Event, Cassell, London, p. 163

[ii] Interview with Benny Morris, Survival of the Fittest, Haaretz, 9. January 2004, http://cosmos.ucc.ie/cs1064/jabowen/IPSC/php/art.php?aid=5412