An inside look at the cannabis farming of the Bekaa Valley
Lebanon’s banks see soaring profits slow as trouble brews both at home and next door in Syria, while American muscle-flexing makes for costly compliance measures
The prices of some popular weapons on Lebanon's black market have dropped for the first time since the uprising against the regime of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad began in March 2011.
Bearing in mind that the demand that drove prices to record highs was almost all from Syria, the recent dip appears to strengthen reports that Syria's armed opposition is gaining ever-greater access to weapons and ammunition.
The two weapon types that recorded the largest drop are AK-47 rifles and rocket-propelled grenades. In March 2011, a good-quality Russian AK-47 or the Polish-manufactured version, known in Lebanon as a “Circle 11” from the stamp on the metalwork, cost around $1,100. By April this year, however, the rifle had doubled in price to around $2,200. The price climb for RPGs was even higher. A single grenade in March 2011 was worth $100 (itself a significant rise given that five years earlier it was selling for about $10). By April, however, it was nudging close to $1,000. Arms dealers were grumbling that they could not even find RPG rounds on the market.
However, since the beginning of May, both AK-47 and RPG prices have dropped to around $1,800 and $700 respectively. The cost of 7.62mm ammunition for the AK-47 also has declined from around $100 for a box of 50 rounds in April to $83 in June. Both AK-47 rifles and RPGs were the most commonly used, and sought after, weapons for the Free Syrian Army (FSA) and other armed opposition groups. The drop in prices suggests that the FSA is receiving a regular supply of armaments today, which has lessened demand in Lebanon.
It is widely believed that Saudi Arabia and Qatar have begun funding the FSA and that fresh arms supplies are reaching the fighters, mainly from Turkey. The New York Times reported in mid-June that CIA officers were in Turkey monitoring the flow of weapons to ensure that the recipients were not groups that shared Al-Qaeda's ideology.
The FSA also has had increasing success in raiding Syrian army depots and stealing weapons and ammunition, or co-opting Syrian army officers with access to arsenals. Indeed, the profits to be made from selling weapons have spurred Syrian soldiers to steal weapons and sell them on the black market, according to Lebanese arms dealers. That has led to some Syrian army weapons, including RPG rounds, to enter the Lebanese market.
The enormous profits to be made from selling arms has blurred political loyalties. There is a story presently circulating in the Bekaa about a member of a Syrian-backed political party who was in charge of the group's arsenal in his village. He struck a deal with a man from an influential family to sell the weapons to the Syrian opposition and they would split the proceeds. The weapons were duly sold across the border, but the second man then refused to share the profit with the party member. In revenge, the party member told the police where they could find the second man, who had a string of arrest warrants. The police laid an ambush and the second man died in a gunfight. The relatives of the second man then kidnapped the party member and he has not been seen since.
While AK-47 and RPG prices have declined, the cost of prestige weapons continues to climb. They include arms such as the AKS-74U, popularly known in Lebanon as the “Bin Laden gun” as it apparently was favored by the former Al-Qaeda leader. A Bin Laden gun costs $5,000 today, compared to about $2,800 a year ago. A Russian “Dushka” 12.7mm heavy machine gun is worth a staggering $9,000 compared to $3,000 in March 2011. Even that pales to the price of an American M4 assault rifle fitted with a M203 grenade launcher. Worth $5,000 in March 2011, today it will set you back at least $15,000.
NICHOLAS BLANFORD is the Beirut-based correspondent for The Christian Science Monitor and The Times of London
On a hot Saturday in mid-June, hundreds of young people across Beirut took part in a campaign to temporarily occupy key high traffic locations and replace them with ‘guerrilla gardens’. What took place was a welcome contrast from the tire-burning and road-blocking protests of late; instead, participants laid out patches of grass on sidewalks and roundabouts and picnicked under umbrellas to raise the profile of their cause for public green spaces.
Only two days before, the chief of the Beirut municipality, Bilal Hamad, held a press conference to announce the launch of the “Beirut is Amazing” initiative. Attempting to both respond to public pressure and direct the discourse, Hamad announced plans to rejuvenate the city’s parks. Unfortunately, the project is as uninspired as its name, and ignores an area constituting 77 percent of the city’s public green space — the Horsh Beirut. This park is a key issue of the guerrilla gardeners.
The Horsh — destroyed by fire in an Israeli raid during the civil war — is a sprawling 330,000 square meter urban park that until now is reserved for the exclusive use of those selected by the Beirut governorate. Only two years ago this historic piece of real estate was a non-issue for most Beirutis. That was until a non-governmental organization called Nahnoo (Arabic for ‘us’) rallied supporters and started asking the right questions. Today, beyond their media campaign, Nahnoo has compiled research, consulted legal experts and urban planners, organized public events and coupled advocacy with a policy focus to lobby cooperatively with decision makers. The movement, however, isn’t without detractors — including many ordinary citizens from neighborhoods around the park. In typical ‘tragedy of the commons’ rationale, critics of the campaign say the Lebanese will not be able to collectively own such a pristine space without destroying it, pointing to threats as terrifying as barbecues, argileh, littering, and “immoral behavior”; thus, we must deprive ourselves of our public space in order to protect it. Hamad himself made these very arguments during a public forum organized by Nahnoo earlier this year. The forum attracted an almost full house at Hamra’s Madina Theatre, where the majority of the audience was too young to remember the park in its glory days. Many were also angry. They saw the park’s closure as an act of exclusion, one that deprived them of a much-needed refuge from Beirut’s concrete jungle and a meeting point in a city that has one of the lowest levels of public green space in the world. Of course, it is not simply about green space, and the reasons given for the parks closure are superficial at best.
In a sectarian and segregated city the park takes on new meaning. Its triangular shape separates the suburbs from the city with barb-wired walls, keeping Christian, Sunni, and Shia neighborhoods apart. The question that many are asking away from the spotlight reveals an unspoken yet palpable sectarian turf war: “Who will control the park?” Of course legally, the municipality would be required to ensure the park remains clean and safe. On the ground, control is exercised differently. Groups of young men loyal to this or that political bloc could set up shop, hang their flags and effectively “take over” the space. Some believe that Sunni and Shia youth will clash and the violence could ruin Horsh Beirut.
Those leading the campaign for public access to the park understand the risks and realize that a sense of community ownership is necessary for its survival once opened. This is why they are planning to use the space to bring youth together, undertake public education programs and create an active Horsh Beirut neighborhood association to play a role in ensuring responsible use of the park. The tug of war over this rare publicly-owned green oasis in a slowly suffocating city represents a clash between two ideologies: those with a ‘fear-of-the-other’ worldview and a new generation that refuses to submit to prevailing stereotypes and are adamant about reclaiming public space for the people; while the former sees the park through the prism of perpetual conflict and eyes it with suspicion, the latter looks to make the Horsh a space for community and unity, and a source of hope for the future. In many ways, it is the struggle between continuing to entrench the trauma of the civil war and moving Lebanese society forward.
ALI SAYED-ALI works in democracy and civil society development in the MENA region
Press reports that the Syrian government is printing money in Russia to pay civil servants salaries and to close its budget deficit have raised serious concerns.
Two issues — one political and the other financial — are at stake.
The decision to print Syrian bank notes in Russia has been known for some time, as the Minister of Finance, Mohammad Jleilati, announced at the end of May that his government was close to finalizing discussions with the Russian authorities for that purpose. It follows a ban imposed last fall by the European Union on printing Syrian bank notes; two EU members, Austria and Belgium, were among the countries printing Syrian currencies.
However, by going to Moscow, the Syrian authorities have only confirmed an increased dependency towards their Russian counterparts, with all the political consequences that this new state of affairs may entail. For months now, the consecutive rounds of sanctions imposed by the EU, the United States, the Arab League and Turkey have squeezed the Syrian government’s room to maneuver and increased reliance on Russia. Last December, for instance, the Central Bank of Syria announced that it had opened correspondent accounts with three Russian banks — VTB, VEB and Gazprombank — in a bid to avert new sanctions on its foreign assets by the European Union, which were eventually imposed in February.
Since then, there has been speculation that much of the country’s foreign reserves had been moved to Moscow, though a lack of transparency makes it difficult to confirm the location of these assets or their size (estimated at around $17 billion prior to the beginning of the uprising in March 2011). Other indications of this growing dependency include negotiations to have Syria join the existing Customs Union that consists of Russia, Belarus and Kazakhstan, or the recent series of bilateral agreements in sectors as varied as petroleum, electricity and manufacturing.
As international calls for action to stop the bloodshed in Syria grow, Russia is likely to hold an increasing number of cards in its hand to pressure Damascus. From a financial and monetary point of view, however, the main issue of concern is not where Syria prints its currency but for what purpose. Indeed, while the story initially published by Reuters quoted Syrian bankers saying that the newly printed money was meant to finance the government’s deficit, the governor of the Syrian Central Bank strongly denied it, saying that the new bank notes would replace worn out bills, an operation the central bank “has been regularly doing since it was established just like every central bank around the world.” The government has also denied it was having any difficulties financing salaries and other payables; Jleilati recently said that the 2012 budget deficit was forecast at a reasonable 6 to 7 percent of gross domestic product, in line with expectations. The Minister of Finance has an obvious interest in downplaying the difficulties his government is facing, but while there is little doubt that the treasury is increasingly strained, it is difficult to claim that a collapse is imminent.
It will not be easy to identify the purpose for the government to print new bank notes. Since May 2011, the Central Bank has stopped publishing its monthly bulletin, which reported, among other things, the levels of money supply. What is clear, however, is that if the government were to resort to the printing press to finance its expenses, the risk is an immediate inflationary impact.
While the government had managed to keep a relative lid on the consumer price index for most of last year, prices have jumped in recent months, climbing 15 percent in January on an annual basis, and more than 30 percent in March and April — including a more than 40 percent increase in the food and beverages category. Relying on the printing press, therefore, risks increased social unrest.
However, the only obvious conclusion from this debate is that both from a political point of view and from a financial rationale, the options at the hands of the Syrian government are fast declining.
JIHAD YAZIGI is editor-in-chief of The Syria Report
Walid Daouk, Lebanon’s minister of Information, was given a baptism of fire upon taking his post in June 2011 when his pet piece of draft legislation, The Lebanese Internet Regulation Act (LIRA), caused a storm of opposition and vitriolic denunciations, leading it to being put on the back burner. Executive met with the minister to discuss life after the LIRA and the promise and perils within Lebanon’s media sector.
What was your incentive to develop the LIRA legislation?
I have not seen any legislation related to electronic media. What I had in mind was to protect the [news] websites. There are so many of them and they are of great importance. In the coming couple of years they will become more important than the newspapers. I said let’s not try to regulate, but fix it in some way. I had two ideas. The first was to put a label that will let us know where the website is domiciled. This would make it more credible.
The second part of the law was to help the websites get better services. What can you do if another website is able to steal your content as soon as you post it? So to protect the intellectual property rights of a website, I would say the registered website would benefit from the legal intellectual property rights in Lebanon.
Were you surprised by the backlash to your proposed law?
Unfortunately I didn’t lobby with the community because it didn’t occur to [me]. I saw there was a loophole in the law and I wanted a law that would benefit the owners of the websites. In my mind it was great, but unfortunately some people were against it and said that I am against freedom of speech. This is not true, in the second article of the draft law I said freedom of speech was fully respected.
Do you still think new websites, news or otherwise, should have to register with the government?
No, they don’t have to. The law is for those that want to. It is not obligatory.
Would Lebanese libel law also apply to the registered websites?
Yes, if a website is registered I would know where it is domiciled and therefore if people are illegally harmed by these sites they could take them to a Lebanese court.
Would content on social media websites be subject to these regulations?
No, absolutely not. This has nothing to do with it and you cannot control this.
Is LIRA dead in the water now?
It is put aside for now as there is a draft law that concerns all of the media and it is being studied within a media commission at the parliament. Definitely it is better to have everything within a greater code, but my idea was to address this loophole quickly. In any case it is optional. A media code in parliament in my opinion will take many years to pass, during which time we will still have the loophole.
With so many media barons represented in parliament, will this law pass?
It will but the questions are ‘if’ and ‘how’. It is so political. This is why I prepared my draft law to be quick.
On Twitter recently, you said you believed in “absolute freedom of speech in any blog or any media” but later tweeted “bloggers in some circumstances should refrain from telling the whole truth for the sake of the public and the community.” There seems to be an inherent contradiction here.
It is not a contradiction. I believe fully in freedom of speech. However, in some professions, such as lawyers or doctors, there is a ‘code of ontology’.
But doctors and lawyers are responsible to their patient and client. Who are journalists responsible to protect?
You can say whatever you want as long as what you say does not harm the public interest.
Who determines that?
There must be a code of conduct for journalists and the media sector but in Lebanon this does not exist. I am pushing for such a code.
Enforceable by law?
Definitely not. It should be by the media’s own adherence.
Most journalists don’t have access to the editor’s syndicate and there is no union or syndicate for broadcast journalists. What are you doing to formalize this profession and to ensure journalists can enjoy proper professional support and protection?
The syndicate was presided over by the same chairman for the past 50 years [Melhem Karam]. To join the syndicate was something pending his will. These days, however, we should not only leave the syndicate open for the ones who benefited from the time of Melhem Karam. Now we should open the syndicate for all journalists.
Does the ministry have a role to play in that process?
The ministry has a moral role and I am trying to push it. I am going further, to have the syndicate become a federation, because now it does not include the broadcast journalists. We want everyone in the media profession included, such as the photographers and the sound engineers… I want to have a federation that is one body that is united and therefore stronger.
This is what you would like to see but have you seen any movement in that direction?
It is too early to say but the new syndicate was voted three weeks ago and I am pushing very hard in this direction.
Chapter 10 of the Audio Visual Law aims to limit political and corporate control of the media but is patently not enforced. Can the ministry do anything to curb the increasingly partisan and sectarian tone of the Lebanese media?
Unfortunately not, for political reasons I can’t even impose penalties against any defaulting media — that is to say media that is not in line with their conditions of contract, and unfortunately they are all breaching the law. However, I can re-equilibrate by improving the public media.
Previous cabinets wanted to protect their own [political] and religious media. No cabinet dared to strengthen the public media. They neglected it. I am saying it is now time to reinforce Tele and Radio Liban to give them their federative role.
This takes money. Where is this going to come from?
The government could get the money even if it will take a lot. I don’t have today the intention to be in competition with the private media, especially in television. But Tele Liban could have a niche where it could succeed, for example in education or local output. Commercial stations would not go there because it would not generate much advertising. Tele Liban’s news gets good audiences. We are around 4 percent, which in my opinion is good. We also have the national news agency, which has correspondents all over Lebanon. We are the first to broadcast the news but the majority of the media takes the news from the NNA and then do not credit it.
Lebanon’s predominance in Arab media has dwindled in the face of huge budgets and assertive media coming from the Gulf and other areas of the region. On a policy level can anything be done to ensure Lebanon maintains a prime position within the regional media?
Yes. I hope to have a Beirut media center. At the Dubai media center the majority of the workers there are Lebanese. The idea is to have a media city, or cities, in Lebanon where you can incorporate the studios and the newspaper buildings. I am confident we can attract these Lebanese ex-pats back to Lebanon.
Many of the TV licenses expire this year. Can we expect new terms of contract or will the status quo continue?
Unfortunately the status quo will remain.
Why unfortunately?
Because everyone knows there is a breach in the conditions of contract, and unfortunately for political reasons nobody is being penalized for these breaches.
Beirut’s perennial claim to be the capital of art in the Arab world is facing competition. Qatar’s ‘Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art’, the Saadiyat Cultural District in Abu Dhabi planning for the inaugurations for local branches of the Louvre and Guggenheim in 2015 and 2017, respectively, and the art fairs of Abu Dhabi and Dubai, could be seen as a surge of aesthetic appreciation in the Gulf, where there is also the money to back it up.
However, “You cannot buy culture,” claims Laure D’Hauteville, the creator and organizer of the Beirut Art Fair (BAF), who believes Beirut will always be the Arab world’s art capital.
Having organized the Abu Dhabi art fair in 2005 and 2006, D’Hauteville says, “The majority of the attendees there were either Lebanese or foreign. The locals have the money indeed, but they do not have the education or background in art.” D’Hauteville said Abu Dhabi’s Louvre has been postponing its opening for two years now and that it was uncertain when and how it will open.
Only getting bigger
For the third consecutive year, the BAF, an international event highlighting art from the Middle East, North Africa and South Asia (MENASA) region will be held in Beirut International Exhibition and Leisure Centre from July 5 to 8. This year’s fair is larger in scope than its predecessors with an indoor/outdoor space of 5,000 square meters (sqm) compared to last year’s 3,000 sqm, and with 40 participating galleries, an increase from last year’s 25. The expected number of attendees this year, according to D’Hauteville is 12,000, while last year’s fair had 9,000 people pass through the gates.
This year’s fair will also be showing an Andy Warhol portrait of 1970s American starlet Barbara Molasky, from the Cordeiros Galeria — the piece’s first-ever exhibition in the MENASA region. Pascal Odille, the fair’s art director said “It is quite prestigious to have [the Warhol] in Beirut since it has never been seen before [in the MENASA]”. He added, however, that “All the artists in Beirut Art Fair are prestigious in their own right, and it is not the Warhol alone that will bring people to the fair.”
D’Hauteville envisions the fair as a hybrid event with the commercial galleries’ displays running alongside a planned program of conferences, talks and special exhibitions, which will draw on the political events in the region since 2011.
The fair will also feature for the first time a ‘Comics Corner’, with 30 original drawings. One of the comics featured will be that of Mohamad el-Sherkawi, the Egyptian artist “whose work was censored in Egypt, but we had no problem having it approved in Beirut,” according to D’Hauteville, who cites relatively minimal censorship here as another example of why Beirut has its advantages.
Street art and grafitti will be another new addition to this year’s fair. “From Street Art to VJing: the Urban Creation of Beirut” is aimed at attracting young art aficionados and to show how Beirut itself is a young city, according to D’Hauteville.
Again, she says that this aspect could not take place in the Gulf as, “the youth are not allowed to express themselves in that manner there.” This section will feature a live performance by street artists who will paint a wall to the music of Cesar Kahwaji, Vjay, and Lebanese rappers Eshekman.
Such fusion of art can also be found in “Correspondences”, a work curated by Catherine David, involving the letters of Abdel Rahman Munif, the Saudi author of “City of Salt” who was exiled from his country and Marwan Kassab Bachi (considered one of the Arab world’s greatest artists, according to the BAF program), who illustrated the letters. This will be the first time this work is displayed in an event such as this.
The business side
A cornerstone of the fair is its commercial aspect. This year, there are 29 galleries from the Middle East, seven from Europe and four from North Africa selling art at the fair.
It was stipulated that more than 80 percent of the work featured by the participating galleries should be by artists from the MENASA , to ensure the promotion of regional art. Thus, when a gallery from Armenia wanted to display works by Armenian artists only, the fair committee denied their request to participate.
“We have been receiving a lot of calls from Armenian people claiming that we are racist but we are not,” says D’Hauteville. “Armenia simply is not in the MENASA region according to the World Geography Division. We do have work by Armenian Lebanese artists such as Paul Gaggusian, and had the gallery met the condition, we would have gladly displayed the paintings.”
An additional feature to this year’s fair is the Art Collectors Committee, comprising a hundred art collectors, eighty of whom are Lebanese, who are supporting the fair through their presence and participation.
Still on top?
While Beirut is “the beating pulse of art in the region,” according to D’ Hauteville, Christine Thome, who heads Ashkal Alwan, the Lebanese Association for Plastic Arts, is reticent to call one city the ‘capital of art’.
Thome says she believes all cities collaborate together to benefit the civic society, which she sees as art’s ultimate aim.
Thome warns that the increased interest in Arab World art since 2011 is a double-edged sword. The West tends to lump all artists from the region into one glorified category called “Arab Art,” which Tome sees as a dangerous generalization. “Such attention comes with responsibility on the artist, and one must not sacrifice the quality of the work for the label,” she says.
In line with Thome’s opinion is that of Saleh Barakat of Agial Gallery, a three-time participant in the fair, who discourages the use of such “superlatives”. He sees that Beirut is indeed a dynamic city with a rich culture and history that is doing its part in the art world but adds, “If you compare it to the art fairs in Dubai and Abu Dhabi that make around $4 million in profit, Beirut Art Fair makes around $1 million.”
In addition to the money, Barakat says, the United Arab Emirates has the stability and the contacts to attract the best foreign artists, something again that Beirut is unable to offer.
Thus, while there is still much ammunition for either side in the debate over whether Beirut is the ‘art capital of the Arab world’ or not, perhaps those participating in the discussion would do well to step back and appreciate for a minute the picture they are trying to paint.
Uncultured egos that value competition over aesthetic are but the leaches of culture, while history always records true art for its time and place.
The American University of Beirut (AUB) recently acquired a major, never-exhibited-before collection of work by the artist Khalil Saleeby (1870-1928), who is considered the father of modern art in Lebanon. This collection was donated to AUB by Dr. Sameer Saleeby, 87, a distant relative of the artist, who had acquired part of it from his father, Shaheen Saleeby, and developed the rest by adding works of friends and students of the artist, such as Saliba Douaihy, Cesar Gemayel and Omar Onsi. The collection consists of about 60 paintings, 30 of which are of Saleeby’s work, and is well preserved in its original condition. Speaking at the opening of the exhibition on June 8, Dr. Saleeby said that he felt like the collection was his daughter and that he was now giving her up gladly.
Indeed, he has been trying to find a suitable home for this collection for some eight years. According to his sister, Layla Saleeby Dagher, who is also the President of the Alumni Association Board at Lebanese American University (LAU), Dr. Saleeby had been insistent on keeping the collection in Lebanon as he felt it represented a piece of our country’s heritage. According to Richard Brow, vice president for advancement at AUB, Dr. Saleeby told him that he had received two serious offers from foreign parties looking to buy the entire collection, but since that would mean that it would leave Lebanon, Dr. Saleeby refused to sell.
“Dr. Saleeby knew that the Lebanese government is unequipped to handle such a body of art,” said Dagher, adding that he also rejected the idea of private galleries as his goal was not to sell the paintings, but to have them available for the public. Therefore, and after briefly considering opening his own museum, he turned to universities. According to Dagher, he first approached both LAU and AUB eight years ago with one main condition, that the collection be accessible to the public. “This condition, along with the long-term nature of the project and the cost involved were initially a challenge for both universities” said Dagher. AUB entered into long talks with Dr. Saleeby, during which Peter Dorman became president of AUB and Brow entered his current position. The parties were then able to come up with a solution that suited AUB and met the condition of public access, and in November 2011, Dr. Saleeby’s “daughter” had a new home.
Two floors in the newly acquired AUB Mayfair building have been renovated into an art gallery that temporarily exhibits the paintings, and there are plans for an on-campus fine arts museum with access to Bliss Street. This museum will be located above the archeology museum and involves renovating the Post Hall building.
“This is a major project that requires an ambitious sum of money and AUB is looking at endowments to cover it,” said Brow, though he said he was unable to give the exact figure as plans are still being discussed with museum experts. Brow said that AUB is approaching individual patrons of art interested in financing the project but are waiting to know the exact budget before they commit.
This museum is to be called the “Rose and Chaheen Fine Arts Museum”, after the donor’s parents and upon his request. According to Brow, several collectors have also approached AUB offering their collections on a loan basis, or as donations. Brow declined to give names, but did confirm that one of the collections offered is even larger than Saleeby’s.
The exhibition opened to the public on June 12, and will run until November 2012. It is curated by Octavian Esanu, who was recently appointed by AUB as its first curator. Esanu is already planning for the gallery’s next exhibition, which will draw on the rest of Saleeby’s work and may include other artwork on loan to AUB. Whatever he decides, this gallery and the future museum are hopefully a step in the right direction toward public appreciation of fine art in Lebanon.
"For a situation like ours we do need scandals,” says Zeina Kassaify, head of the Lebanon Association for Food Safety (LAFS).
The uncovering of caches of expired products in warehouses, poor food preparation procedures in kitchens and generally improper food storage practices may have done the Lebanese economy no favors, says Kassaify, but it did provide a “wake-up call” for the food safety sector.
Accordingly, she says there has been an increased interest among restaurant owners in the activities of her organization, founded in 2010, which carries out inspection, monitoring and certification.
Nabil Rizkallah, general manager of food safety consultants GWR Consulting, echoes this view, describing a marked uptick in business over the past year, while Paul Ariss, head of the Restaurants Association, reports, “more than 300 ventures have signed contracts with food safety consultants and professionals.”
However, while the demand for food safety certification may be on the rise, the context in which these certifiers operate, and the absence of an active independent Lebanese accreditation body to oversee them, means that even if a restaurant has more certificates than menu items, customers may not be able to trust that the seals on display reflect the culinary reality in the kitchen.
Lebanon did establish its own accreditation body, the Conseil Libanais D'Accreditation (Colibac) in 2004. However, to date it is not operational, explains Léna Dargham, acting director general of the Lebanese Standards Institute (LIBNOR).
LIBNOR is a member of the International Standards Organization (ISO), an affiliate member of the European committee for standardization (CEN) and the Codex Alimentarius contact point in Lebanon (see table). LIBNOR uses ISO 22000 standards, European and Codex Alimentarius standards alongside HACCP (Hazard Analysis and Critical Control Points) and other international systems and standards, to publish its own guidelines for Lebanese establishments. LIBNOR, however, does not have a certification or accreditation role in the food industry.
What this means is that certification companies operating in Lebanon are accredited abroad and often with reputable bodies. However, removed from their accreditors and functioning in the Lebanese context, a gap between the standards and practices as written on paper, and their implementation in reality, may have emerged.
Kassaify, without disclosing the names of the companies in question, claims that certifiers, in order to increase their client base and turn a profit, “were being lenient with [restaurants].”
What’s certification worth?
Upon the establishment of LAFS, which functions as a non-profit, non-government organization, Kassaify went to food establishments that had contracts with these certifying companies to inspect them.
The grade she gave to many was “below zero,” says Kassaify. “You cannot have hired a company to do a certification or implementation of a system and still be below zero after nine years. There is something wrong with this.”
In scrutinizing the problem’s origin, Kassaify says she uncovered that companies eager to ensure a client base in the country were unwilling to impose standards so rigorous they might scare business off.
As they say though, it takes two to tango, and GRW’s Rizkallah reports that restaurants may put pressure on food safety auditors to provide certificates, logos and seals as soon as they forge a relationship with them. Indeed, his firm instituted a commitment label at the behest of customers who “asked for something to show their clients.” GWR only issues the label once a restaurant passes their audits with a grade better than 85 percent and no major nonconformities. It reassesses each premise on a monthly basis. Rizkallah says, however, “Some eateries will actually approach certain ‘certification’ companies that issue what is called a ‘certification in process’, which is given upfront and not after being audited. This is a very easy way out.”
Ensuring credibility
Seeing that the food industry genuinely adheres to food safety standards requires a twofold pressure, says Kassaify. First, it requires a regulatory system that is extensive, compliant with international standards and implemented strictly, with clear penalties for violations. Second, it requires a consumer culture in which customers hold restaurants accountable, and ask their public representatives to ensure establishments are policed for food safety and punished if in violation.
Furthermore, a reliable food safety certification industry requires a series of checks and balances, with accreditation bodies that oversee the certifiers to ensure that they are awarding certifications appropriately. And finally, independent consultancy bodies should be available for the food industry to confer with, in order to bring their practices and premises up to scratch before calling in a certifier.
Colibac should, according to the 2008 text of the draft Food Safety Law, “specify the local and international laboratories, accreditation agencies and pre-testing and control bureaus, whose food safety-related certificates are recognized by Lebanon.”
However, as Colibac is presently not operational and all the functioning certifying companies work with the approval of an overseas accreditation agency, close monitoring of the certifiers may often be unfeasible, opening the space for shortcuts to be taken and standards to slip.
For example, GWR’s Rizkallah points out that overseas certification bodies often cannot verify the relationship between certifying bodies and consultancy firms, which should operate independently to avoid conflicts of interest. In Lebanon, the interaction of consultants and certifiers locally is unregulated and unmonitored, he says, exposing the sector to corruption and enabling the unethical awarding of certificates.
Business still cooking
Yet, while the certification industry may not be ethically watertight, Kassaify says there has been a definite increase in interest in her organization’s services in the past year, with businesses approaching LAFS rather than vice versa. Moreover, she says, some certification bodies have approached LAFS for assistance in implementing minimum standards in food outlets. But most of this activity is at the top end of the market, among well-known restaurant chains that have an interest in franchising. At the lower end of the market, she explains, there is no perceived added value in seeking certification and therefore no interest.
Likewise, Rizkallah says that while food safety scandals have expanded the market for companies like his, the demand for these services is coming from bigger restaurant chains, which he says, make up “less than 1 percent” of the market. That’s a tiny number of the some 7,000 permanent eateries and at least a further 1,000 seasonal restaurants, which Ariss estimates are doing business in Lebanon. He estimates that about 90 percent of the latter are unlicensed.
However, within some municipalities, the Ministry of Economy and Trade, which oversees the Directorate of Consumer Protection, has initiated training and policing schemes to ensure businesses meet basic food safety standards.
The ministry has trained 327 staff in 27 municipalities across Lebanon to oversee establishments’ adherence to consumer protection laws. Monitors from the Directorate of Consumer Protection patrol local food businesses alongside municipal police, and the ministry reports positive feedback from participants on its food safety initiatives.
Rizkallah, whose company is contracted by several municipalities to inspect food outlets’ premises, attributes the successful implementation of better standards to citizens within the municipality putting pressure on their elected local representatives to improve regulation. He also says there is a correlation between municipalities with better food safety standards and those in which the electorate permanently resides: That is, in municipalities along the seaboard. Standards tend to be lower in mountain municipalities where the electorate is often nonresident.
Straying from extra expense
Cost may be one deterrent to small eateries seeking certification. Rizkallah says many small enterprises feel they cannot afford a food certification program. LAFS, as a nonprofit, only charges clients the costs it incurs in carrying out laboratory tests and providing training. However, the seal it awards is not an internationally recognized certification. Acquiring such a standard can prove costly, and the returns may appear limited. Large chains with advanced food safety systems have invested extensively in the area; for example, Roadster, which was the first ISO 22000 certified restaurant chain in the Middle East, spent upwards of $300,000 to bring its premises and practices up to the standard, says its food safety manager Lea Naoufal. (Only a handful of restaurants have ISO 22000 certification, says Rizkallah.)
Of course smaller enterprises would incur much lower costs than Roadster, which, Naoufal says, feeds approximately 1 million people per year, but those costs are not insubstantial. Ariss estimates the cost of food safety certification is between $1,500 and $2,000 per year, “depending on the company and the services that the restaurants require.”
Rizkallah’s company can train a business with about 15 staff and inspect its premises 12 times per year for approximately $2,500. The return is not a certification, as GWR Consulting is not accredited, but rather an award label. However, as Rizkallah points out: “The cost excludes any structural improvements [removing walls, installing ventilation, etc.] that should be carried out by the restaurant… This kind of cost is sometimes prohibitive.”
If a restaurant then wants to be certified according to accredited international standards, it will have to bring in a certifying company to audit its premises, which adds a further layer of expense. For example, Bureau Veritas, which provides such certifications, estimates that an average-size business can gain ISO 22000 over the course of three years at an approximate cost of $6,000, excluding the cost of structural adaptations.
All in the mind
A simple lack of understanding and awareness of food safety protocols and measures is also a contributory factor to restaurants not seeking certification. Rizkallah points out that in Lebanon there is “no guidance given for implementing food safety.” For the time being, however, food safety advocates keep up their struggle for improved standards. It’s a battle waged on two fronts, addressing consumers not in the habit of demanding higher standards on one side, and the food safety sector and regulatory bodies on the other. But, until such time as the regulation and certification system is copper-fastened, customers will need to remain vigilant: As so long as there are loopholes and plausible shortcuts, profit-seeking food outlets and certification bodies are likely to take advantage.
Enab got its name from the vine that connects all the grapes together,” says co-owner Hasan Rahal. “We wanted a name that reflects the idea of the Lebanese family life.”
This concept comes across well in the decor and the general ambiance of the venue. While the idea seems somewhat déjà vu — yet another establishment boasting a Lebanese menu in a pleasant setting — Enab has some interesting features that distinguish it from other places in the same milieu.
To walk into Enab, is to walk into the dars, or salons, of times gone by. The light, wide space opens up into several rooms, each painted in a different vibrant color, thereby creating a different mood. The traditional architecture is complimented by equally authentic accessories found throughout the space, such as the sink with the antique faucets or the wooden chest full of drawers. “Each item we used was handpicked and chosen to match the ambiance of the space. They are items commonly found in village homes,” says Rahal.
Outside, a serene garden with a rocky wall echoes the Lebanese mountainside. Within are the plants traditionally grown in Lebanese homes such as gardenia, jasmine and lemon and orange trees.
Enab’s atmosphere and setting encourage people to enjoy typical Lebanese traditions such as the sobhiyeh (morning gatherings over coffee), tawleh (backgammon) with argeeleh in the afternoons and long dinners over mezza and arak.
“Enab is the story of every Lebanese household and we want everyone to enjoy it,” says Rahal. “We are not restricted to one class of society and our prices are a reflection of that: they are very fair considering how generous our portions are and what the prices of the competition are like.”
Indeed, the prices Enab offers are reasonable: a typical meal of a salad, four mezza and a mixed grill plate costs around $20.
A plateful of profits
The people behind Enab are Hasan Rahal and Zaher Rizkahllah, who, between them, also own the Second Cup franchise, the Zucca Beirut restaurant and Karam — a Lebanese restaurant popular in the Gulf, according to Rahal.
For this project the owners chose Mar Mikhael as their location and then started looking for an old house with a garden in that area. The initial investment for the project was $2 million dollars, according to Rahal, an amount they hope to return in three years time on the basis of their current turnover rate of around $150,000 a month.
Four months into the project Rahal claims they are taking in around 250 customers on a weekday, and 350 on both Saturday and Sunday, of whom most are local Lebanese.
Another strategy that Rahal says will help them reach the $2 million target is a franchising strategy in the Arab region, which is tipped to begin next year.
Enab prides itself on being a restaurant, and not merely a café, says Rahal, who adds that the menu focuses on the sort of dishes that our grandmothers used to cook. When asked about Layla’s or Frieda’s having the same kind of menu, Rahal replied that those places offer a fusion cuisine with a twist on old favorites, while Enab focuses on the traditional dishes as they are.
While that may be a new idea in the modern setting that Enab offers, the menu could do with having a few signature dishes. In short, go to Enab for the mood and the quality preparation of old Lebanese favorites, not because you are hoping to discover a new recipe or dish.