The Deservingness of Feeling Anxious: Where are Migrant Domestic Workers in the War Narrative?
Sonia Caballero Pradas, University of the Witwatersrand
Introduction
Although Lebanon has a rich history of migration, the fear of escalating conflict between Hezbollah and Israel seems to focus solely on a local narrative. While the anxiety shared by Lebanese citizens is more than justified, the feelings of migrant workers in the country remain largely invisible. Among the Lebanese and refugee communities that weave the socioeconomic and relational fabric of the country, there is a significant group of women—between 250,000 and 400,000 migrant domestic workers (MDWs)—who face their own ongoing anxiety. In discussions about international evacuation, their experiences are often overshadowed by the so-called “expatriate” community, which enjoys more extensive protection guarantees. The narratives of MDWs and their deservingness to feel anxious are therefore relegated to a different limbo, one marked by a lack of representation, and intersectional violence.
Despite their invisibility in times of war, the influx of foreign laborers for domestic work is intrinsically tied to the conflicts that have shaped the country. While today domestic work is mostly sustained by women from Africa and Southeast Asia, before the Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990), households employed local women and others from the region, such as Palestinians and Kurds. The war’s divisions deepened societal rifts, leading Lebanese to distance themselves from local “others” with differing political views. Concurrently, the Sri Lankan conflict in 1983 spurred migration to Lebanon, introducing the Kafala sponsorship system. This labor regulation, often likened to modern-day slavery, places workers’ fates at the whims of exploitative recruitment agencies, individual employers, and dubious pseudo-consulates.
Looking back: 2006 War and the Forgotten Victims of the Beirut Port Explosion
From casual conversations to formal interviews, live-out MDWs from Cameroon, Ethiopia, and Sierra Leone have recounted the lack of legal safeguards they have faced since October 7th. Their experiences reflect the expected challenges that the Anti-Racism Movement (ARM), an organization advocating for improved conditions for migrants, is preparing to address.
Its recent report highlights a similar scenario during the 2006 war, where several employers in southern Lebanon fled due to intense bombings, leaving their female migrant workers locked inside homes. Following the war, the Sri Lankan embassy in Lebanon reported that some nationals arrived with sustained injuries after attempting to escape by jumping from windows or balconies. Others found themselves without a place to sleep in the new houses their employers rented after being displaced, further exposing them to gender-based violence. Paradoxically, some fellow compatriots with private property have capitalized on the situation by renting to internally displaced people from the South, with prices reportedly three times higher than before the genocide in Gaza began. The issue of deservingness also extends to housing concerns. With high demand and limited availability, testimonies reveal that landlords follow certain lines when selecting their tenants, in many cases fostering a policy of exclusion.
Instead of learning from past human rights violations, history repeated itself in 2020 following the Beirut Port Explosion. The six MDW victims were not only excluded from several death tolls but their remains were also denied the right to be returned to their home countries for mourning. Additionally, women from various countries were abandoned on the streets after their employers’ homes were destroyed in the blast. Yet, amid this bleak narrative, the agency of migrant women to reclaim their dignity and create their own platforms stands out. For instance, while some of us sipped overpriced coffee in chic Badaro, a group of Kenyan women staged a days-long protest in front of the Kenyan Honorary Consulate (HC), located in the same street, demanding repatriation.
Evacuations and The Role of Honorary Consulates
In recent weeks, there has been a glaring display of double standards regarding the escalating threat of war. Different embassies—mainly from the Global North—have provided evacuation options and revised their travel advisories for Lebanon, cautioning their citizens about the potential for border closures and urging those already in the country to prepare for prolonged sheltering. However, for other foreigners, the idea of escaping is a distant dream, as they receive no protection.
“There are stereotypes against Africans, but we are also human, we also feel fear”, a former Cameroonian domestic worker in Lebanon shared with frustration. The stigma surrounding working-class women of color permeates every aspect of their lives, from legal restrictions that strip them of control over their passports to the failure of institutions responsible for their care. While the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations outlines the responsibilities of Consuls in safeguarding their nationals’ interests, MDWs lack fellow representatives. Instead, their representation in Lebanon, beyond the kafeel or employer, is often limited to the Honorary Consulate of their home country—an institution whose efforts frequently fall short.
Article 22 of the Vienna Convention states that “[Career] Consular officers should, in principle, have the nationality of the sending state”. Contradictorily, Article 68 allows receiving countries to dictate the appointment of Honorary Consuls and define their moral and legal obligations. In Lebanon, these positions are typically held by Lebanese nationals, often wealthy businessmen with diplomatic immunity who can hold multiple jobs simultaneously. Apart from the language and cultural barriers that might hinder an Honorary Consul from fully understanding the well-being needs of the citizens under their care, HCs have often been closely tied to economic interests, such as connections with recruitment agencies. When these interests are combined with immunity, racism, and sexism, the safety of marginalized migrant women falls far from a priority.
The abuse allegations against the Kenyan Honorary Consulate in Lebanon highlight the lack of protection for MDWs. Before the protest by Kenyan women in Beirut following the explosion, they sent a letter to their Embassy in Kuwait, accusing the HC of multiple violations. These included unresponsiveness, ignoring workers’ pleas with automated WhatsApp messages, and barring them from entering the office. The HC officers dismissed the protesters’ claims, publicly exposing their identities on social media and failing to address the abuses, which included the disappearance of workers and their forced return to abusive employers they were trying to escape from. As the conflict intensifies, these workers are left to fend for themselves with inadequate means of protection.
Conclusion
In times of crisis, governments and their representatives abroad are duty-bound to take action. Without a president since 2022 and constrained by sectarian norms and a history of occupation that fractures the country along imaginary lines, the people of Lebanon find themselves with few options left. Yet, beneath this tragic situation, other lives linger, their stories slipping through the cracks of the popular narrative, unheard. Recent research has highlighted how crackdowns have left marginalized groups in a state of hiding and waiting, as seen with undocumented Syrians and queer individuals who have faced the consequences of scapegoating since last year. MDWs also find themselves at a lower priority in the pyramid of protection. In addition to being denied the possibility of escape, their right to feel anxious, like their local employers, does not make headlines in the press. Instead, they wait in a silent limbo that, for many, began long before October 7th. Beyond evacuation efforts, deeper ethical questions emerge from this population dynamic: How many tragedies must working-class migrants endure before their fears are recognised as equally valid?