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No Shelter but Each Other: Displaced LGBTQ+ Testimonies from Lebanon During Israeli Aggression

Kaliwa El Badi, Researcher, Community Organizer, Journalism Student, Lebanon

To be LGBTQ+ in Lebanon, and across many Arabic-speaking countries, is to navigate not only social and legal marginalization but also the enduring weight of colonial violence. In Lebanon, the recent Israeli aggression has once again exposed how queer lives are endangered not only by state neglect and societal prejudice, but also by the machinery of occupation and war. For many, being LGBTQ+ is inseparable from the broader struggle against erasure, displacement, and control—where identity is not merely personal, but profoundly political.

This piece examines the lived experiences and testimonies of LGBTQ+ individuals in Lebanon during the 2023–2025 Israeli aggression, tracing how political violence, forced migration, and social marginalization intersect to shape queer survival. Drawing on key-informant interviews and secondary research, it documents how queer people navigate collapsing support networks, return to unsafe environments, and resist erasure within oppressive systems. For safety and anonymity, only the first initial of each person’s name is used, with numbers added where necessary to distinguish between participants.

Fear, Rejection, and Hiding

Many LGBTQ+ people in Lebanon were forced to return to family homes they had long left behind—spaces where they had to hide who they were. After building safer lives with partners and chosen families, returning meant surrendering the freedom they had worked so hard to achieve, creating yet another layer of displacement and confinement.

During the Israeli aggression, R1 and his family were displaced multiple times to stay safe, first leaving Dahyeh for central Beirut, then Aakkar, and finally Koura. Each move represented not only a logistical decision but a survival response to unpredictable violence. The constant instability and uncertainty, never knowing where safety might exist or for how long, deepened their psychological strain and turned mobility itself into ongoing trauma. As R1 explained, life became increasingly difficult as his family struggled to make ends meet.

The war triggered a severe collapse in access to basic necessities. Without stable income, many depended on relatives abroad, local community networks, or charitable organizations simply to survive. Independent groups and NGOs stepped in to provide food and essential supplies, particularly to displaced families living in overcrowded shelters where resources were scarce.

Even before the escalation, LGBTQ+ people faced discrimination in accessing healthcare, and the situation worsened dramatically. Medication shortages affected many, but for transgender people requiring hormone therapy and those living with HIV, the consequences were life-threatening. Their medical needs were routinely overlooked.

Housing was another critical challenge, particularly for transgender people who already faced widespread discrimination. As displacement grew, finding safe and stable shelter became nearly impossible, compounding the precarity and danger for queer individuals. “So much is happening. We [LGBTQ+ people] are in extremely unsafe environments, and on top of that, we face rejection and isolation,” said R1.

Recurring Displacement: Queer Refugee Life in Lebanon

The experiences of LGBTQ+ Syrian and Palestinian refugees in Lebanon illustrate that displacement is not a single event but a continuing condition marked by trauma and instability. O1, a gay Syrian refugee who fled Syria in late 2024, described how the Israeli aggression in Lebanon revived the very violence and insecurity he had sought to escape. His testimony highlights the layered, recurring nature of displacement for queer refugees where each new crisis reactivates past trauma and deepens emotional exhaustion. “Even now,” he said, “even though I’m here, it’s still with me. I can’t forget.”

O1 also struggled to find stable work in a hostile environment. After losing his job, he relied on friends for shelter (arrangements that were often unsafe or unwelcoming). The memories of Syria’s violence and loss remained a constant presence, shaping his life in Lebanon.

Queer Palestinian refugees face similar struggles. With limited legal protections, inadequate access to services, and systemic discrimination, their daily lives reflect a long history of exclusion intensified by their sexual and gender identities. This cycle of displacement and re-displacement reveals the fragility of local support systems and the inconsistency of community networks. Beyond material survival, these refugees navigate the lasting emotional toll of state violence that follows them across borders and through generations.

Fractured Support Systems

The Israeli aggression targeted not only borders and buildings, but also the fragile, often improvised spaces that LGBTQ+ people in Lebanon had carved out for themselves. These spaces—sometimes a living room, a group chat, or a late-night walk—offered safety, recognition, and belonging. When violence escalated, many of these networks vanished.

Even digital spaces could not hold what they once did. Many mourned the loss of connection and visibility. “During the war, all of that disappeared,” said R1. “Online, it was all about sharing news of the war, which is valid and necessary. Still, it was hard not being able to see your friends because all of this was happening.”

Holding On and Reaching Out

O2 described how friends and families began building support systems “from scratch.” Without formal infrastructure, queer communities organized shelters, pooled cash, and distributed aid. These grassroots efforts reflected remarkable solidarity in the face of crisis. “There was no roadmap,” O2 said. “We were just trying to hold each other.”

W, who coordinated emergency relief, described the immense challenges: “We lacked data on queer folks in the South. We wanted to reach them directly, but didn’t have the tools. It was overwhelming.” Their experience underscored the importance of emergency responses rooted in local knowledge rather than dependent solely on international donors or NGOs

Concluding Reflections: Gaps in LGBTQ+ Support in Lebanon

Many LGBTQ+ people in Lebanon already lived in precarious housing or under conditions of social and legal vulnerability. The breakdown of support systems left them with few options and no safety nets. This reveals a critical gap in LGBTQ+ support strategies: without intentional outreach and decentralization beyond Beirut, many of the most marginalized remain invisible.

Crisis response frameworks and international programs that claim to champion LGBTQ+ rights often emphasize visibility and representation over urgent, material needs such as housing, healthcare, and economic stability. These oversights demonstrate that the challenges facing LGBTQ+ individuals in Lebanon are not solely social or legal; they are embedded in broader structures of political violence, displacement, and systemic neglect.

For queer people in Lebanon, survival is both a personal and collective act of resistance. In times of war and displacement, when the state and society fail them, they turn to each other. Their endurance offers a testament to solidarity and to the ongoing demand for justice—across borders, identities, and the shattered landscapes they continue to call home.