Nearly a year after the ceasefire agreement between Hezbollah and Israel came into effect, the southern suburbs of Beirut have not yet turned the page on the destruction left by the violent Israeli raids that targeted them in late September 2024. The reconstruction process is suspended, along with the fate of the residents, and is awaiting a political resolution that will allow its funding. The affected people are also waiting to return to their homes, amid anticipation of a new Israeli escalation.
While trying to find studies or plans that address the issue of rebuilding the southern suburbs of Beirut, it seems that work on this has not even started yet, as we only find general discussions and broad proposals on the issue, since the necessary money has not yet been made available to start preparing the studies, and the entity that will be entrusted with the task has not been determined.
The region has its own political and security considerations related to Hezbollah, which make state involvement a complex matter. In 2006, for example, the reconstruction task was entrusted to the Jihad al-Binaa Association, which also took into account Hezbollah’s military infrastructure, as demonstrated by the recent war.
But today we are facing a reconstruction process that is more complex than it was in 2006, due to the expansion of the destruction, the political considerations associated with the process, the refusal of donor countries to fund it before the issue of Hezbollah’s weapons is resolved, and Israel’s clear keenness to monitor its most minute details, while working to restrict Hezbollah’s sources of funding.
In an interview with Daraj, when asked about the lack of plans, architect and urban researcher Christina Abu Raphael said: “The development of projects ready for implementation when reconstruction begins is linked to bigger issues in Lebanon, including funding and government policies.”
Abu Rafal believes that the Lebanese state should undertake the reconstruction and be responsible for organizing the urban space in all cities. “But what happened in 2006 was that the reconstruction issue was entrusted to a political party, and this led to strengthening its influence in this region.” She recalls the framework adopted during the “Project Promise” experience, where “the Jihad al-Binaa Foundation received the compensations that arrived through the state, and it carried out the reconstruction that was the state’s responsibility.” She affirms that “the goal was the return of the residents within a period not exceeding five years, and it succeeded, but in return, the state abandoned its responsibility in managing the urban space and gave it to a political party that produced the same influence.”
Abu Rafail points to the need to take advantage of reconstruction to improve infrastructure and increase public spaces, but she emphasizes “the main goal of bringing back the residents and involving them in this process,” even if it is at the expense of possible improvements to the area. She notes that “the suburb is part of Greater Beirut and its urban extension, which is something that government policies should take into account.”
However, this reconstruction effort also faces legal obstacles, as Israeli strikes targeted buildings constructed illegally on private property without permits, particularly in Burj al-Barajneh. Regarding this, Abu Rafail says it can be resolved by obtaining permission from the landowners. She also recalls the experience of 2006, when illegal housing units were rebuilt, and a law was subsequently passed granting amnesty for violations, thus legalizing the reconstruction that took place.
Another challenge that Abu Rafail points to is the repair of damaged infrastructure, as she speaks of technical difficulties resulting from the deep trenches caused by the use of bunker-buster missiles.
Many of those who lost their homes in the southern suburbs refuse to speak to the media for various reasons. Some fear the consequences of freely expressing their opinions, or succumb to pressure from their relatives, while others feel frustrated and believe there is no point in speaking out in light of the alarming situation.
Suleiman Faqih, a man in his sixties who lost his home in the southern suburbs and in his village in the south, says regarding the reconstruction of his home in the suburbs, “Until now, no one has contacted us. We are waiting for the housing allowance in January,” as Hezbollah provided housing allowances for a period of one year ending on that date.
When asked about the difficulties of being displaced from his home, he says: “Our situation is difficult,” but he points out that it is better than others, but he recalls what is “more difficult than the displacement itself, which is the caution and fear of the worst.” He adds: “Perhaps we were able to endure the displacement the first time, but the second time I do not know to what extent it can be endured.”
Faqih denies receiving any assistance from the Ministry of Social Affairs or any other government agency, stating, “There is absolutely no communication between us and the state.” He laments the neglect of “the state, which didn’t even offer condolences,” and asserts that he “doesn’t rely on it.” Regarding what can be done for reconstruction, he mentions individual initiatives undertaken by some who were able to repair their homes in the southern villages, something impossible in the suburbs where buildings are shared and closely packed.
As for the jurist, “there is no solution in sight” for the issue of reconstruction. He says, “We are waiting for a political solution, and everyone knows what it is.” He leaves it at that without details and complains about the “restrictions” on aid reaching those affected by their families in the diaspora.
Faqih, who had saved some money in banks, like many of those affected, has lost hope of recovering his deposit. He believes that the idea of granting those affected even a portion of their savings is not feasible due to the “quota system and exploitation.” He points out that Hezbollah provided housing allowances for those whose homes were destroyed. The man reiterates his hope for a political solution “less costly than the ongoing daily war. My village in the south used to be classified as second-line, but today it is on the first line. If any war breaks out, we will lose hope for our village, of which about 60% has been destroyed.”
Reconstruction has thus become a dilemma that can only be resolved through a political settlement between Lebanon and Israel. The process cannot begin in the absence of funding, but rather with the continued Israeli threat to launch a new war, and even to target the machinery used in construction, as Israel imposes its authority on the start of the process, while those affected wait for relief.
When the question was raised about possible solutions to overcome these obstacles and begin reconstruction to a number of people, it became clear that no one had an answer, but everyone was waiting, hoping that the bombing of the suburb would not be renewed.
During this waiting period, the state can push banks to give depositors a portion of their deposits, which may help those affected to withstand the financial pressures resulting from the loss of homes, shops and job opportunities.
It is a suggestion that seems surprising that Hezbollah has not put forward, as it is trying to exploit the situation to feed the feeling among its supporters that the state has abandoned it, a feeling that is associated with the rise of the influence of the two parties: the Amal Movement and then Hezbollah, and which contributed to the formation of the current identity of the southern suburbs of Beirut.
The southern suburbs of Beirut, whose name carries significant political weight and points to a complex identity, are now awaiting reconstruction. Before the recent war with Israel devastated it, and before it witnessed one of the most profound manifestations of defeat—both morally and militarily—with the assassination of Hezbollah Secretary-General Hassan Nasrallah and the party’s top leaders, it was almost the de facto center of power in Lebanon. This reality stemmed from the profound transformations this small area underwent over the past century, evolving from agricultural land to a refuge for marginalized displaced persons, before ultimately becoming the country’s political power center.
Back in the early 19th century, Mount Lebanon and its surroundings were an important center for silkworm production and the export of silk to Europe. In this area, which became known as the southern suburbs of Beirut, Christian families settled, small factories were established, and mulberry cultivation, essential for silkworm rearing, spread. According to the historian Fouad Khoury, the Shiites in the area were a minority.
Between the 1920s and 1930s, the silk industry collapsed due to competition and the global recession of the 1930s, mulberry cultivation declined, and Christians began migrating from the southern suburbs to areas east of Beirut or even outside Lebanon. The motive for displacement and migration was the search for new job opportunities and services, including education.
According to Salim Nasr in his study “The Roots of the Shiite Movement,” no more than 10 percent of the Shiite community lived in cities until the late 1940s. At that time, political representation of the Shiites was monopolized by six prominent landowning families, according to Nasr, who adds in his study that the Shiite community, which represented less than a fifth of the population at the time, had virtually no influence on Lebanese society and politics by the end of the 1950s.
In the 1960s, the southern suburbs of Beirut began to witness waves of migration from the south and the Bekaa Valley in search of work, after farmers in the countryside had suffered. Many of these people found work loading goods at the Port of Beirut and in some factories, in jobs considered arduous and requiring little skill. Thus, the Port of Beirut became a symbol of the marginalization of the Shia, who did not have significant representation in the state at the time. The phrase “the Shia are porters at the port” became used in political discourse to signify class and sectarian marginalization, and the deprivation of members of this community from services, decent job opportunities, education, and administrative positions.
This marginalization formed the core of the discourse of Mr. Musa al-Sadr, the founder of the “Amal” movement, in the sixties and seventies, when he spoke about the “deprived” and demanded political and economic justice for the Shiites.
By 1974, 63% of Shiites, or about two-thirds of the population, lived in cities, with more than 45% concentrated in Beirut and its suburbs. With this shift, the movement of Sayyid Musa al-Sadr emerged in the early 1970s to express the demographic, social, and economic transformation of the Shiites from the periphery to the city of Beirut, according to Nasr. By 1975, more than 40% of the rural population had emigrated, and the emigration rate in the south exceeded 60%.
The Amal Movement tried to push for the achievement of its socio-political demands before the outbreak of the civil war in 1975. Al-Sadr used religious and moral rhetoric, in addition to rhetoric of marginalization and deprivation, and succeeded in attracting the Shiites and in achieving gains for the sect.
The current identity of the suburb can be considered to have begun to take shape since then, as it began to enjoy political weight. In 1978, about 3 years after the outbreak of the civil war, the disappearance of al-Sadr constituted a shock to the Shiite community, especially in the suburb, which was in the process of transforming from poor suburbs into a political-social center for the community, and a stronghold of the “Amal” movement, which the disappearance of al-Sadr helped to mobilize the Shiites behind.
About a year later, in 1979, the revolution succeeded in Iran, which formed a key milestone before the Israeli invasion of Lebanon began in 1982. Then Hezbollah was formed, and declared its commitment to the doctrine of the Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist, led by the Shiite religious authority who appointed himself Supreme Leader, Sayyid Ruhollah Khomeini. Its founders declared their belief in jihadist resistance to confront Israel and liberate the land. Among them were individuals who had defected from the Amal Movement, and competition ensued between the two Shiite movements to win the loyalty of the Shiites, until bloody confrontations broke out between them in the southern suburbs of Beirut, the Bekaa Valley, and southern Lebanon between 1988 and 1990, known as the “War of Brothers,” which ended with a Syrian-Iranian understanding.
The two rival parties became the dominant forces in the southern suburbs of Beirut, but Hezbollah, benefiting from Iranian support, worked to establish service institutions and waged a significant propaganda campaign, particularly during operations against Israel, successfully garnering support. Even after the civil war ended and the political balance shifted, the southern suburbs continued to be portrayed as marginalized and deprived. The rhetoric of being “porters on the port” persisted in political discourse, used to instill in the Shia community the fear that they would return to a state of marginalization if Hezbollah’s or Amal Movement’s weapons were touched—a sentiment that continues to be echoed to this day.
The suburbs thus began to take shape through haphazard construction, especially around the airport. In 1995, after discussions that lasted for more than two years, a decision was made to establish a public institution concerned with organizing the southwestern suburbs of Beirut, which became known as the “Al-Issar Project”.
Prime Minister Rafik Hariri at the time considered his project to be a solution for tens of thousands of citizens living in this suburb, to overcome the “inhumane” conditions in which they live. The decision to establish the institution was reached after discussions with Hezbollah, the Amal Movement, and the Supreme Islamic Shiite Council. The party stipulated at the time that the issue of preserving the population presence in that area be resolved by linking the evacuation operations to securing housing alternatives.
The attempt to reorganize the area was perceived as targeting the environment of Hezbollah and the Amal Movement. Both parties saw the organization of the area and the gradual imposition of state authority as a erosion of their own influence, which clashed with the state’s plan. Furthermore, insufficient funding and a lack of political will led to the project’s neglect, while informal settlements proliferated in the absence of urban planning, making reorganization extremely difficult today.
Hezbollah’s influence, in particular, increased, and the party began to control state institutions in the suburbs, from police stations to municipalities. This alienated citizens from the state, which was emerging from a civil war. The sectarian power-sharing system contributed to strengthening this alienation, as citizens throughout Lebanon were treated as subjects of their respective sects.
The suburbs rose higher and higher, witnessing what could be considered an economic renaissance until they reached what could be described as the center of political decision-making in Lebanon. The Shiites gained influential representatives in the state, capable of obstructing any decision, even the election of the president. Yet, the rhetoric of marginalization continued to be used to instill fear in the masses, to instill a sense of a return to the past, and to control their destiny and decisions.
For its part, the state remained hesitant in the face of this reality, and in the face of the painful reality produced by the war, it remains that the state must deal responsibly with this region, embrace it, and begin with the capabilities available to it to undertake its reconstruction.