Authors’ disclaimer: Executive issued the invitation for this expert contribution on the publicness of coastal spaces one month before the expansion of the Israeli war on Lebanon in September 2024. We, the authors, completed the contribution at the highly troubled time when a maritime blockade by Israeli warships became a threat against Lebanese coast from the southern shoreline to points in Beirut and further north. In this sense, we are now confronted with the new, conflicted image of the sea – the hostile staging ground for Israeli battleships – and the coast that serves as refuge for thousands of people who are sheltering on the scarce public space of Beirut’s urban shore after they have fled from their homes.
As one of the last bastions of public space along Beirut’s coastline, the corniche of Ein el Mrayseh stands as a vital outlet for diverse communities in a city increasingly defined by economic speculation, political polarization and sectarian divides. The shoreline underwent several interventions beginning from the visioning of the infrastructural work of the avenue des francais to the more recent and ongoing private businesses and resorts (refer to figure 1 for details about the dates disrupting the continuous shoreline promenade and creating portions of exclusivity). These hegemonic violations of the public space, whether by urban policies, private resorts or infrastructural expansions, triggered individual and collective interventions among the users.
Users interventions on public spaces is part of a common practice of appropriating the city. Our recent observations of such interventions on Corniche Ein el Mraysseh are in line with these practices aiming towards more accessibility to the sea, or creating more collective spaces. In some examples, static urban furniture is intervened on – such as removing one section of the balustrade to allow easy access to the sea rocks, becoming more transformable and accessible to the public. We reflect on these observations, shedding light on some stories currently happening at the corniche, under a complex relation between the users, the Beirut municipality, the reality of the space itself, and unfortunately, the ongoing Israel war on Lebanon.
Extending on a level stretch of urban seashore over nearly four kilometres from the Saint George Hotel, at the edge of Solidere on the east, to the Sporting beach club on the west, this coastal promenade is more than just a walkway; it is a vibrant tapestry reflecting the multiple spatial layers and modifications that the area underwent. Four distinguishable elements constitute the essence of this stretch: first and foremost, the Mediterranean Sea, what remains of the rocky landscape, the continuous sidewalk overlooking the water and finally, the coastal vehicular road that was built over several phases. Yet, the encroachment of high-end resorts and private developments threatens the natural unity of this rocky shoreline and accessibility to the water. The original essence of the Corniche as a public outlet for all residents, has long been struggling with punctual interventions and private interests. The Beirut shoreline, once a continuous and seamless public domain, grapples with fragmentation that challenges its’ essence.
The recurrent violations of the public domain along the shoreline have systematically divided the stretch into distinct sections connected by the pedestrian walkway, each with its own characteristics and particularities. Resorts equipped with jetties and private marinas, cafes and restaurants create isolated, separated environments that seem to turn their backs to the public promenade of the Corniche. This segmentation perpetuates a divide between affluent clientele and the general public, imposing entrance fees that cultivate an atmosphere of exclusivity. As private entities stake their claims, the public’s right to the coastline is increasingly challenged, leading to a loss of the shared experience that has historically defined the Corniche.
A reclaiming of public water
Amidst this encroachment, a quiet revolution unfolds. The Corniche remains a crucial site for collective expression and connection, where individuals reclaim their innate relationship with the water, which has been written and philosophized about for nearly all of human existence. In the liminal spaces between resorts, spontaneous gatherings and impromptu performances emerge. Balustrades and shading devices have in some cases become pathways to the sea, as people remove segments of railing or tie ropes around them to gain access. These acts of defiance transform static modules into dynamic forms of soft modularity, reflecting a collective desire to meld the constructed environment with the natural landscape.
These interventions are not merely physical alterations; they embody a deeper yearning for connection and inclusivity. Each gesture—whether removing a balustrade segment or creating makeshift pathways—speaks to a communal aspiration to reclaim the coastline. As users adapt the space to their needs, they breathe new life into the Corniche, allowing it to evolve alongside the city’s changing rhythms.
At the heart of this reclaiming spirit is a dedicated group of early morning swimmers led by Abu Reda, a daily visitor, who cares for the stretch between the Riviera and the fisherman port.

Figure 1 _ Evolution of violations into the sea. Source of diagrams: Authors. Google Earth 2011.
Rising with the sun, they swim in the Mediterranean waters, clean the beach, and construct makeshift seating areas from pebbles and driftwood. These soft interventions enhance a feeling of responsibility and informal ownership. Their daily routines set a welcoming tone for others to engage with the shoreline. The beach transforms into a lively gathering point, where individuals come together to share stories, laughter, and a sense of belonging. The act of cleaning has become a collective ritual, fostering a growing sense of informal ownership and pride among users. The playful interactions of these early birds breathe life into the space, as they craft seating areas and temporary structures that encourage lingering. The shoreline, once dominated by rigid structures, becomes a canvas for human expression. Children splash in the shallows, couples find quiet corners for intimate conversations, and the beach buzzes with activity, a testament to the resilience of community spirit in the face of privatization. In these moments, the Corniche emerges not just as a physical space but as a rich mosaic of collective memories.
Despite sporadic governmental attempts to exert controlover these practices, such as wiping out the temporary seating places and flattening the pebbled beach, the relationship between community efforts and authorities remains complex. While Abu Reda and his friends strive to create an inviting atmosphere, they occasionally encounter confrontation from municipal authorities concerned about the informal nature of their activities. This dynamic underscores a broader narrative of governance in Beirut, where local actors assert their rights to public space while navigating the challenges of a city crippled by an economic crisis that has eroded the livelihoods of its citizens and where public spaces that should serve as gathering points are de-prioritized and fall into neglect.
But daily users like Abu Reda are now joined by much larger groups. The city, still reeling from the aftermath of the economic crisis, now grapples with the heavy weight of displacement and despair. As hundreds of thousands of Lebanese families flee the Israeli hostilities, many find themselves seeking refuge in public spaces that were once meant for communal enjoyment. As of this writing, the Ein el Mrayseh Corniche is now one of the most crucial public spaces in the city, as it has become a makeshift home for the displaced.
A new microcosm of precarity, fears, solidarity, determined normalcy, and hope
Over a span of two weeks, the Corniche and waterfront area have filled with families who cannot afford rent or find accommodation elsewhere. Some spend the nights in their cars, roaming the city in search of safe parking spots, while others sleep on the ground or in tents.
Despite the compassion shown by fellow citizens, various associations, and political groups attempting to offer support, a climate of fear and prejudice has also emerged. oncerns that the growing tension over property and resources may escalate into community conflict.
Yet, amid this precarity, Corniche Ein el Mrayseh has become a fragile sanctuary for the displaced, where the weight of grief and fear hangs heavy in the air. Families fleeing the bombs, many having lost loved ones, gather along this coastal stretch, seeking refuge by the sea, a space that feels conceptually accessible yet starkly distant from the homes they’ve been forced to abandon. The Corniche, marked by the presence of vendors catering to urgent needs – offering food and supplies for children – mirrors the desperation of a community in crisis. Amid this sombre atmosphere, colorful balloons lit at night provide children with fleeting moments of distraction.
Also at night, the threat of bombings has given way to a new routine. As midnight approaches, the spokesperson of the Israel Defence Forces addresses Lebanese residents in the form of a videos or statements that circulate on social media, telling them that their neighborhoods will soon be bombed—sometimes in as little as fifteen minutes after these statements are released—causing residents to flee quickly en masse. They gather at the Corniche for late-night commisserations, exchanging coffee, notes, and stories of loss and fear. During every night since the start of Israel’s violent aggression against Lebanon without any sincere concerns for basic human civility, a new wave of forced migration thus substantiates the new utility of the Corniche as a refuge, where people connect and find solace amid uncertainty. After the raids subside, those who are able return home to assess the damage and try to catch some sleep before facing the next day. This phenomenon highlights the evolving nature of life along the Corniche, where the nightlife has become a response to the ongoing conflict, reflecting both fear and a collective effort to reclaim a sense of normalcy.
This public space, while devoid of a true sense of belonging offer a semblance of safety. As such the Corniche stands today as a testament to solidarity, a place where countless stories of journeys from all over the country intertwine. As we navigate the complexities of this evolving crisis, we are struck by the forced resilience of the people of Beirut. In this evolving crisis, the heart-wrenching reality remains: our citizens are being bombarded by circumstances beyond their control, forced to confront the harsh reality of homelessness in the very spaces meant for connection and belonging. The struggle for dignity and the fight for public space continue, even as the city grapples with the weight of its new reality.
The Corniche stands today as a poignant reminder of the struggle for public space in a city long captured by elite interests and profit seeking. It remains a space where the spirit of the people rises against the tide, reclaiming a fundamental right to the water that transcends the boundaries imposed by towering developments.
Looking ahead, the community-led initiatives along the Corniche should not be viewed as mere temporary fixes. They represent a vision for a more inclusive and vibrant public space capable of thriving amidst the city’s challenges. Proposing formal urban policies that recognize and encourage these informal partnerships can facilitate a more harmonious coexistence between private developments and public access.
Such policies could empower residents, allowing them to actively participate in the planning processes that shape their environment. By integrating community efforts into comprehensive urban policies, Beirut can transform its public spaces into dynamic areas that reflect the active participation of its citizens in shaping the city’s future.
In a time of escalating tensions and ongoing displacement, the Corniche Ein el Mrayseh emerges not only as a physical space but as a vital symbol of resilience and resistance. It illustrates how, against all odds, communities can reclaim their right to public spaces and create a more equitable urban future in Beirut. Maybe, an urban future that can draw lessons from public interventions that defy top-down hegemonic policies. Observing such soft interventions by users, who found a safe scape next to the sea, is a crucial step towards a more participatory urban approach.
[1] For more details about this topic, please refer to the article by the Authors “Rigid and Soft modularity: the case of a Beiruti shoreline” published in June 2024 in Vitruvio International Journal of Architectural Technology and Sustainability
[2] Solidere, is a private company responsible for reconstructing the Beirut Central District following the end of the Lebanese Civil War, 1990. As a convention, Solidere’s nomenclature now refers to an area covering Downtown Beirut where the company intervened.