Beirut: As Syria holds its breath for potential US-led military strikes, its fragile neighbour Lebanon is bracing for the fallout.
The threat of cruise missile strikes across the border adds another element of uncertainty for a country whose politics are closely intertwined with those of its larger neighbour and that has been attempting to cling to peace since the Syrian conflict began 21/2 years ago.
The pressures on Lebanon, a country that has been without a government since March amid sectarian wrangling, are multifold. It’s economy has suffered, sectarian fault lines have been agitated, and kidnappings, rocket attacks and armed clashes increasingly punctuate daily life. Over the past month, tit-for tat bombings have joined the fray, with bomb attacks on two mosques in the northern city of Tripoli on Friday killing more than 40 people in the worst bombing incident since the Lebanese civil war.
Adding to concerns is how the Lebanese Shiite movement Hezbollah might react to a cruise missile strike on Syrian President Bashar Al Assad, its ally. A strike launched from ships in the eastern Mediterranean could cross over Lebanon — though caretaker Foreign Minister Adnan Mansour has told local media that the country’s airspace will not be open for use.
Still, amid the uncertainty, some airlines have adjusted their schedules to avoid night flights to Beirut.
In the background is the constant stream of refugees, straining Lebanon’s already creaking infrastructure and competing for scarce work. The number of Syrian refugees is poised to cross the 2 million mark — the United Nations says more than 700,000 of them are in Lebanon, while the government puts the number at well over 1 million, making at least one in every five people in the country a Syrian national.
Lebanese officials have expressed concern that any airstrikes will send another wave of Syrians over the border, with increasing numbers already crossing over in anticipation of the attacks.
“This has already gone beyond our capacity, and we’ve reached a very dangerous level of tension between refugees and host communities in every single spot in this country,” said Ramzi Naaman, coordinator of Lebanon’s refugee response plan.
Naaman said new border restrictions have been imposed to curb the flow of refugees, with immigration officials being asked to ascertain whether those crossing are fleeing from areas of violence.
“This is a country that is politically torn,” he said. “These people are going into the labour market, which is causing a lot of competition. These are the perfect ingredients for a disaster.”
On highways and intersections across Beirut, Syrians cluster in the early mornings, hoping to find work. Some have been coming to Lebanon for years, others are newly displaced by violence. They complain that they are subject to curfews that do not apply to locals and that work is increasingly difficult to come by.
“I’ve been coming here for 15 years, and this is the hardest time I’ve known,” said Abu Ali, a 45-year-old from Deir Al Zor, as he waited on a highway where cars stop to pick up casual workers for $15 or $20 a day. “A year ago we thought it was bad, but now it’s harder. This week there’s been nothing, last week as well.”
The increasing divide between rich and poor is adding to instability, according to Georges Corm, a former Lebanese finance minister.
“There are two Lebanons,” he said. “There is the Monte Carlo, Dubai-style Lebanon which is a few square kilometres and has an average annual growth rate of 30 to 40 per cent, and then there’s 10,400 square kilometres where people live in poverty and the situation is getting worse.”
But despite its inability to provide basic services, and at times appearing to be at the precipice of war, Lebanon has managed to cling on.
“Of course Lebanon is living dangerously, but it’s not the first time in its history, and there’s a natural resilience,” Corm said. “Lebanon has never had a strong state. It’s always under pressure of fracture, but it’s capable of self-managing itself in very difficult situations. This is the positive nature of Lebanon — it goes on, in spite of everything.”
Corm argues that economically, things are not as bad as they are made out to be, with well-off Syrians making up for the lack of Gulf tourists who once frequented the city’s designer stores. In addition, property and financial markets remain buoyant, he said.
Still, outside his office in the capital’s sleek downtown district, shops and restaurants are newly shuttered. Gulf states have issued travel warnings.
Washington Post
