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Living in the Social Fabric’s Cracks: The Shelter Crisis in a Highly Privatized Beirut

Sonia Caballero Pradas, University of the Witwatersrand


Introduction

Public spaces, especially in sectarian communities with highly disadvantaged populations, serve as vital meeting points for diverse groups. Beyond fostering social connections, these spaces become arenas where citizens, often confined to segregated areas of the city, can engage and communicate across divides.

Consider Horsh Beirut, the largest green space in Lebanon’s capital, spanning 400,000 square meters. For over two decades, this park remained closed to the public, and accessible only to foreigners until June 2016. While Beirut’s municipality claimed the closure aimed to prevent sectarian conflicts, some argue it served the opposite purpose: to prevent diverse sects from interacting and forming social bonds in one of the city’s few public spaces.

The post-Lebanese Civil War reconstruction and its privatizing approach have intensified this segregation. Elites and wealthier classes, often with ties to politicians and real estate interests, increasingly favor resorts, and other private venues for their socializing activities over the rare, accessible green spaces, public parks and beaches, which have steadily diminished in recent years. Scholar Nadia Karizat describes this phenomenon as “prohibiting space”, asserting that “power is at the forefront of the story of space in Beirut”.

Private Property, Evictions and Nowhere to Go

In a city starved for public space, the concept of “prohibiting space” manifests tangibly as displaced individuals are evicted from abandoned properties and touristic areas, often with the suggestion that they could stay in collective shelters established at public schools instead. Yet, reports highlight overcrowding in these schools, which have become overwhelmed by the need for refuge. According to Beirut Urban Lab, 551 out of 1,471 schools have been mapped as offering shelter for displaced individuals. However, in addition to their capacity limits, these spaces frequently adopt exclusionary policies, often admitting only Lebanese nationals and turning away African and Asian migrant workers as well as Syrian refugees. This selective access evokes a similar notion of securitization that once restricted entrance to Horsh Beirut.

With nearly 1.4 million internally displaced persons (IDPs) in Lebanon, the impact of privatization extends beyond ethnic securitization fuelled by xenophobia and racism. Many of those evicted from their last remaining refuges include displaced Lebanese individuals from the South and the Dahyeh neighborhood of Beirut, particularly after the recent intensification of bombardments in the latter area. On October 21, the Hamra Star building became a focal point in the ongoing public-private debate, sparked by the movements of people in search of scarce shelter. More than 300 individuals sought refuge in this abandoned structure, which lacked basic amenities such as water and power. The enforcement of evictions by Lebanese security forces is largely justified by the protection of private property. Similar eviction experiences at Corniche Ain el Mreisseh and Sanaya Park in Hamra—two vital public spaces amid the chaos of crowded privatized urban life—highlight the pressing question of what remains available for public use. They also underscore the challenges faced by those seeking shelter as they navigate the precarious boundary between public and private for survival.

Revolutionising Space: Configurations of Owning and Belonging

In 1994, Solidere was established as a real estate company tasked with the reconstruction of Beirut Central District, also known as Beirut Downtown, following the devastating Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990). Once the largest fruit, vegetable, and flower market in the country, this area has since transformed into a business hub featuring luxurious commercial, financial, and administrative facilities. However, the modern urban regeneration of Beirut Downtown has led many to question its genuine public nature, citing the heavy security presence and restricted access as evidence. This concern was validated when displaced individuals seeking shelter in the wide, well-maintained streets of Beirut Souks in the Central District were forcibly removed. Many were left with no choice but to relocate to the expansive, scorching asphalt of Beirut Waterfront or the parking lots surrounding Martyr’s Square—a site of political nonconformism that was the backdrop for Lebanon’s largest uprising in 2019.

Indeed, as the October 17 Revolution unfolded in the streets, the #ReclaimingPublicSpaces movement gained momentum on social media. Protesters brought their own urban furniture into Beirut Downtown, setting up affordable street food stations, chairs, and argileh (waterpipes) along the sidewalks, effectively creating “pavement cafes”. They established stands for live music, activities for children, and spaces for discussions, as well as a medical aid station staffed by professional volunteers. In this way, protesters transformed the heavily privatized Beirut Central District into inclusive, accessible and safe spaces for all during a time of solidarity and uncertainty. These spatial configurations illustrate how solidarity and collective action can challenge prevailing neoliberal discourses and securitization efforts.

Reverse Solidarity: From Private Spaces to Public Action

While both governmental and international responses have failed to adequately address the diverse and complex needs of IDPs in Lebanon, individual acts of solidarity have emerged as a vital lifeline amidst the humanitarian crisis. Although these grassroots humanitarian efforts are far from sustainable, they strive to bridge the gaps left by years of political inaction and indifference, as well as the extensive privatization that has defined the country in recent decades.

For example, Le Colisée, a 60-year-old movie theater, has actively challenged the binary of public and private space by transforming itself into a refuge that questions the role of properties during times of despair, war and displacement. Located on Hamra Street, this landmark was closed for nearly two decades before being renovated by Lebanese actor Kassem Istanbouli, who has now repurposed it into a shelter open to individuals regardless of their nationality or status in the country. The transformation of Sky Bar Beirut from a private nightclub to a public shelter is equally remarkable. Once a world-renowned venue on the Waterfront, it now serves as a refuge for 400 IDPs. This shift has been made possible by the owners’ solidarity, as they provide access to the club’s facilities, including toilets and donated mattresses, creating a safe living environment for those with nowhere else to go.

Whether originally intended for sharing stories artistically on stage or as lively spaces for partygoers to enjoy booze and beats, both Le Colisée and Sky Bar are breaking the traditional boundaries shaped by sectarian rule and historical segregation. Through their owners’ vision of transformation and redefinition, these venues now serve a population in need, regardless of whether people used to visit them for their original purpose before. Meanwhile, Mohammad Al-Amin Mosque in Martyr’s Square, gated and fenced, remains closed to those seeking refuge from war, displacement and November’s first rains. In this context, the testimony of a displaced woman seeking refuge in a nightclub she had never stepped into before speaks to the power of human solidarity amidst political and sectarian failure: “Right now, we are united. Those who are providing us with everything, might not be from our religious sect, but they gave us what others cannot”.

Conclusive Remarks

What we are witnessing on the streets of Beirut—particularly the eviction of individuals from abandoned buildings and public sidewalks and squares—constitutes a discourse in itself and signals a significant restructuring of urban space that impacts the lives of millions. IDPs in Lebanon, through their forced mobility, and solidary groups, through their activism, are actively shaping the urban and social landscape. Just as during the Revolution, their initiatives to combat homelessness will once again transform the city.

Regarding Horsh Beirut, the starting point of discussion, it continues to sit at the intersection of functional public space and a refuge for those left with no option but to remain outdoors. Located near Dahyeh, the neighborhood hardest hit by Israeli bombardments, and close to Sodeco, which is home to esteemed schools, universities, embassies, and cafes, Horsh Beirut remains a powerful symbol of defiance against segregational and privatizing legislation. It joins the ranks of venues like Le Colisée and Sky Bar, all of which reflect solidarity and challenge the divisions that have long separated communities.