Two years have passed since the double explosion at the port of Beirut, which killed more than 220 people, injured 6,500 and threw 300,000 into the streets. Since the disaster, the city has recovered somehow, but Lebanon remains absorbed by an unprecedented crisis. And the problems are piling up day by day. Reportage.
The eroded silos of the port of Beirut are still standing. When you pass by them, you remember the events of August 4, 2020. That day, at 6:07 p.m., a second explosion – another occurred shortly before – sounded in a hangar where 2,750 tonnes of nitrate were stored. ammonium since 2013 without security measures. The explosion blows the Lebanese capital and resonates beyond. Clouds of dust, devastated houses, blood, deaths: Beirut, touched in its heart, is disfigured.
Despite the passage of time, a very bitter taste remains from this tragic event.
Every fourth day of the month, the families of the victims gather near the port or elsewhere in the capital, photos and candles in hand, to pay tribute to their loved ones and demand justice. Near the Mohammed al-Amine mosque, one can see portraits of each of the victims drawn by the artist Brady Black.
So many calls to remember those who lost their lives, but also not to forget that the ruling class has not yet suffered any consequences of the tragedy. “When we came out of the war in 1990, we had an amnesty law. All was forgotten and forgiven. At the same time, the policy of reconstruction was based on the eradication of evidence of what happened. We don’t want this to happen again. As a society, we must learn from the mistakes of war,” argues Ghida Frangieh, a lawyer with The Legal Agenda, a Lebanese non-governmental organization that follows the investigation into the disaster, monitors the actions of parliament and supports the families of victims.
A paradoxical landscape
Summer is in full swing when the To have to in the capital of Lebanon as the sad anniversary of the explosions approaches. Tourists are flocking there, the Lebanese pound having been relatively stable on the parallel market since May. Terrifying normalization: it oscillates around 29,000 pounds for 1 $US, while the official rate is 1507.50 pounds for 1 $US. The beaches are crowded and so are the restaurants in the trendy districts of Gemmayze and Mar Mikhaël, even if the electricity can suddenly go out in the middle of a toast.
The summer season in Lebanon means families returning for the holidays, the smell of jasmine, the salt water of the Mediterranean, the mezes, the shisha, the men playing backgammon and the grandmothers who, from their balcony, rope up their basket full of food. It is also the hikes in lush forests and the various traditions of its territory. And this portrait remains true despite the difficult situation of the country.
One of the neighborhoods most affected by the explosions, Mar Mikhaël, has partly recovered thanks to the citizens. Pastel colors are invited on the facades of some buildings, while others are still bruised. New cafes and shops have opened since the tragedy, while others have closed, unable to overcome the crisis. On weekend evenings, it remains difficult to circulate in Armenia Street as the sidewalks are crowded and cars with noisy exhaust pipes invade the space.
Those who earn their salaries in fresh dollars — or who receive money from the diaspora — can escape reality for an evening and treat themselves to cocktails at 150,000 Lebanese pounds each. For the others, who are still paid in pounds (the minimum wage in the private sector is equivalent to 1,325,000 pounds, or US$45 according to the current rate), the daily life is quite different. “You will see bubbles like this and you will think that things are going well: people are well dressed, restaurants are full. But as soon as you get out of those bubbles, it’s a whole different story. There is great despair,” laments Niels Juel, a regional Danish Red Cross official who lends a hand to the Lebanese Red Cross.
Justice suspended
On the sidelines of the growing socio-economic crisis, there is still the investigation into the 2020 explosions. But the exercise led by Judge Tarek Bitar has been repeatedly hampered by politicians who refuse to appear brandishing the immunity, and he has been suspended for six months.
Last March, the silos of the port of Beirut were debated. While the government wanted them to be destroyed, claiming that they were in danger of collapsing, the Minister of Culture classified them as historical monuments. The announcement of their destruction had provoked anger, pushing The Legal Agenda to go to court.
“It seems to be a way to erase the evidence of the crime and the witnesses to the explosion, argues lawyer Ghida Frangieh. For 30 years, we have held no one responsible for the war, with rare exceptions. Even for the economic collapse we have been witnessing since 2019. We must strive to break the cycle of impunity we have been stuck in for years. »
“Only the shadow of a State”
This delicate subject – and several others – is being put forward by the new opposition deputies who won their seats in Parliament during the legislative elections on 15th May last.
Thirteen MPs out of 128 now balance long-established sectarian parties. And eight women were elected, compared to six during the previous government. Is this enough to bring about lasting change? To reform the justice system? To overcome power outages? To put an end to the financial crisis which has deprived depositors of their savings for too long? To adequately manage the situation of Syrian refugees?
In the opinion of the new deputy of the Taqqadom party, Najat Aoun Saliba, a scientist specializing in atmospheric chemistry, there is a need to transform the way in which problems are handled in Lebanon. “It’s about creating a clean, inclusive and transparent process that we can share with people,” she says. The investigation into the 2020 explosions is also a priority, says the politician met by The duty “It’s the explosion or the murder of the century. We want to hold those involved accountable. »
It’s the explosion or murder of the century. We want to hold those involved accountable.
Remarks made by the latter on the OTV channel in June, indicating that Nabih Berri is a “school from which we should learn” – Berri has been the leader of Parliament since 1992; he leads the Shiite Amal movement and is close to two ex-ministers who refused to face Judge Bitar -, however, critics raised.
According to Maroun Mahfoud, a member of the Citizens in a State (Mouwatinoun wa mouwatinat fi dawla) party founded in 2016 – and who did not win a seat in the last elections -, it would be necessary above all to break completely with the system in place. , which he considers to be dominated by corruption and clientelism. His movement calls for a secular, democratic and just state. “We don’t have a parliament or a government. We only have a shadow of a state,” he told the To have to.
He got his master’s degree in 2019, then the financial crisis hit and his hopes of landing a job with a decent salary were extinguished. Then there were the explosions. “I wanted to give the system a slap in the face for the slap I received,” he says. Then he continues: “The exact reason why I am with Mouwatinoun is so as not to lose hope. »
Crises escalate
Because the horizon remains very dark. The Lebanese pound continues to fall, and inflation is felt everywhere.
The increase in food prices in the country is of concern to the World Bank. Oil, bread, labneh, diapers, feminine hygiene products — in short, all the basics — and medicine have become unaffordable. The price of gasoline has multiplied by 15 over the past year: the price of 20 liters of gasoline — almost 700,000 pounds — is now equivalent to a quarter of an average monthly salary. And food insecurity is on the rise. The numbers speak for themselves: 82% of Lebanon’s population now lives in multidimensional poverty, according to the Economic and Social Commission for Western Asia.
Added to this are daily power cuts: the national Electricity of Lebanon network only provides between one and three hours of power. To compensate, those who can afford it resort to diesel generators, which are very polluting, or to solar energy, which is very expensive. “Last summer in August when there was no electricity and it was very hot, people weren’t sleeping because they couldn’t get their fans to work. [ou leurs climatiseurs]. And in addition to not sleeping and not having enough to eat, they were queuing up for gas. The temperaments were bubbling, ”says Niels Juel.
In a context like this, it is therefore not surprising to see young professionals and entire families going into exile in search of a more promising future. With deteriorating conditions, salaries that do not keep up with the cost of living and insecurity, many Lebanese are looking for a way out.