BeachesHospitality and tourism 2018Special Report

Cocktails with a sea view

by Nabila Rahhal
written by Nabila Rahhal

Dalia Farran, owner of Sour’s beach bar restaurant Cloud 59, observes that wherever there is a body of water—be it the small village well, a river, or the sea—people gather around it for social activities: “Water brings life to the area,” she muses. This is certainly true for Lebanon’s coast, which is dotted with almost all kinds of socially inclined outlets: One can spend the day soaking up the sun’s rays in a beach club (where you pay an entrance fee to enjoy facilities such as a pool, deck chairs, and service), or enjoy a six course fish lunch or dinner in one of the many upscale restaurants by the sea.

One type of establishment growing in popularity is the beach bar, which falls in between a beach club and a restaurant. Such venues, unlike restaurants by the sea, have beach access and provide facilities like beach beds, showers, and in some cases, a pool. But instead of charging an entry fee as beach clubs do, beach bars make their money from what guests spend on food and drink.

Beach bars are not new to Lebanon, but their number has increased significantly over the past five years, largely fueled by experienced hospitality operators turning their eye toward the coast for seasonal investments and identifying opportunities in previously untapped beachside areas.

The trendsetters

The concept of such beach bars was introduced to Lebanon by a few entrepreneurial minds who saw value in combining the perfect sunset view with the perfect cocktail, and eventually, motivated by their success, others did the same.

Batroun district’s Pierre & Friends, arguably Lebanon’s first beach bar, is the brainchild of Pierre Tanous, a man who loved the sea, windsurfing, and his friends almost equally, and who started the project in 1994 as part-kitesurfing school and part-beach bar for enjoying drinks with his friends, recounts his son Jad Tanous. The project gradually grew into a fully-fledged business, and in 2003 Pierre & Friends became “official,” meaning they hung up a sign and streamlined their operations. Tanous says each year has been busier than the previous one, as people hear about the venue via word-of-mouth and international publications that placed Pierre & Friends on the “to-do” list of tourism in Lebanon.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

It was not long after Pierre & Friends became official that other beach bars started opening nearby, and today around six venues lie side by side on the narrow strip of pebbly shore in Tehoum, just before Batroun, with several similar outlets operating a little further north. “When people saw our success, more operators started opening similar concepts around us, and, as a result, hotels and bungalows started opening around us as well. All this benefited the area, as it brought more visitors to it,” explains Tanous.

Further north, Anfeh’s Tahet el-Rih public beach, along with its private chalets turned restaurants, picturesque blue and white motif reminiscent of Greek islands, and clean blue waters is emerging as a potential location for new hospitality operators to spread their wings. Simon Azar, manager of Chez Fouad, says his was the second family on the strip to transform their chalet into a beach restaurant—complete with a pool previously built when the property was a chalet—in 2016.

Azar says that right from the start they became known for their good food—they served local fish from Anfeh and used only fresh ingredients—and attracted a lot of clients, which forced them to grow their business faster than anticipated. “For two years we used the kitchen of the chalet and cooked in a very basic way—we barely had cutlery at the beginning,” he says, laughing. “The more we made money, the more we added to the restaurant and grew it. We had a lot of people visit in the first season, around 200 per day on the weekends and holidays, so it was a bit difficult, but we learned fast. Today I welcome around 550 people on a busy day and night combined. Azar adds that he has now transformed the entire chalet into a kitchen and has bought industrial cooking equipment. Azar is sure that it is only a matter of time until more outlets in Tahet El-Rih will be inspired by his success and capitalize on their assets.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Beach bars have not found ground yet on the shores of south Lebanon, with the exception of Sour where Farran also started a trend with Cloud 59. Farran explains that she acquired her spot back in 2003, when the municipality had taken control of the catering tents on the public beach in an attempt to organize them (see article on public beaches). “For me, it began as a parallel income from my main job with the UN, especially since I love the sea and music. At the beginning, people from Beirut and the north were wary about visiting the south, since they felt it was too far and unknown to them, but today I have many customers from Beirut, Jbeil, Tripoli, and even Akkar who have become regulars,” she explains, saying that she welcomes no less than 500 people on a busy day with half as many coming on a weekend night. She credits her success to the casual atmosphere that has resonated well with her customers, as is evidenced by the many user-generated posts on social media—which Farran says has also helped to boost the number of visitors to Cloud 59.

A change of scenery

The beach bar trend started in a “mom-and-pop” way with small operations gradually growing larger and more professional. Once the potential of beach bars became clear, hospitality operators with several well established venues in Greater Beirut decided to dip their feet in the seasonal coastal business as a means of diversification. Elie Barhoush, owner of Tonic cocktail bar, which has locations in Jounieh, and now in Okaibeh, says, “We have a location in the mountains, and we launched a beach bar two years ago in White Beach Batroun. We thought of opening at the beach because we saw potential in such a project as we realized that Lebanese like to go to coastal outlets in the summer, whether during the day or night. The concept of having a beach bar and restaurant is a growing trend that was set by Pierre and Friends and developed with time, and so we thought we could benefit from it.”

This season, Barhoush moved Tonic from Batroun to Okaibeh, next to Safra, which he says is a better opportunity for them, since it is a larger space and allows them to have a wide shore, a restaurant,  a bar, and lounge area. Barhoush believes that other projects will follow in the area next year because of its proximity to Beirut compared to Batroun: “People coming from Dbayeh and Beirut will find it closer than driving the extra way to Batroun to get the same type of pebbly shore, clean sea water, and vibes that they get in Batroun.”  

The seasonal hospitality business first came to be seen as an essential market to tap into in 2012 as a result of the war in Syria and the subsequent slowdown of the Lebanese economy, explains Danny Khoury, managing partner of DAWA Entertainment, which owns and operates bar restaurants Dany’s, Main Street, and Wall Street. “Work in summer in Beirut slowed down because locals were either in the mountains or by the beach and there weren’t enough tourists in Lebanon to make up for their absence. So we went to the mountains as well. This is our third season in Broumana, and we were among the first five outlets there,” explains Khoury, adding that back then, they had also thought of opening a beach bar in the Batroun-Kfarabida area but were hesitant about the location.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Khoury finally decided to open a Dany’s beach tent in Sour instead of in the north. “The crowd in Sour suits us because it is laid back like us, and this is why we chose it over Batroun. Another good reason why we chose Sour is the construction of the Jal el-Dib Bridge, which has created even more traffic than there was previously on that highway, so many people will prefer to head south to avoid that jam,” he explains, adding that demand for a concept like theirs has a key motivator. “There are many tents that serve alcohol there, but not in a cocktail bar and restaurant style. There is only Cloud 59 that fits this model, and when people don’t find a place in it, they end up going to other tents. So we can benefit from that market in addition to our loyal clients who know us from Beirut.” 

Seasons in the sun

Although the sun shines quite a lot in Lebanon, the season for beach bars is three months long at best. This means that such operations have to make their money in a short period of time. All of the beach bars mentioned operate day and night, although some owners, like Farran, say they are decidedly busier during the day. In an effort to keep people drinking for longer, both Dany’s and Tonic introduced sunset happy hour formulas to bars. Others, such as Cloud 59, place a minimum order charge ($10 on a weekend) to avoid the scenario of having people spend all day on a bottle of water. Azar requires all guests to order lunch when they come to Chez Fouad.

To Khoury, a short season means investment in the venue should be kept tight. “Summer escapes should not be big investments, even if you have the best location in a seasonal city. This is because the season is short, and so to a return a big investment of say $500,000, you would need at least eight years of good work. Eight years is a lot for a country like Lebanon, where the economic situation is weak,” he explains noting that his investment in Dany’s Sour was less than $30,000 since they made use of a mobile bar they owned and got support from their sponsors for the beach umbrellas and other items. “Otherwise, it would not have been possible to break even this year and make a little profit. We chose it that way because it is a new area for us, and we want to test it. If we break even and make money on the side, next year we will improve on it,” he says. Barhoush sees that although investment in some items like furniture can be kept low and still fit the rustic spirit of a beach bar, things like a good sound system and equipment should not be compromised.

Barhoush says a major expense in beach bars is annual maintenance as daily exposure to the salty sea air can be damaging to items like the point of sale or sound systems, so they have to be repaired almost every season. Tanous says he spends $10,000 to $15,000 per year on the maintenance of Chez Fouad, which includes repairing any damages caused by storms, as well as repainting, and setting up.

Farran sums up the struggles of seasonal outlets by saying, “Working on the beach is a challenge because of the heat and the seasonality, which means you have to find new staff almost every year. I think seasonal projects are a challenge everywhere. It’s like opening a new restaurant every year because you have to set up the place from scratch and hire new staff.”

A hazy summer sky

Another challenge faced by seasonal beach outlets as opposed to seasonal mountain outlets is that customers perceive beach bars as escapes to spend the day in, and therefore interact with them differently. “Weekdays on the beach are slower than weekends, since most people are at work. They are certainly slower than businesses in seasonal outlets in the mountains. For example, it’s a short drive to reach Brummana for an after work drink, while you would not head to Sour from Beirut for a similar outing; you would only visit at night if you were there since the morning, or if you are spending the night nearby,” explains Khoury.

Both Barhoush and Azar mention the fickle weather this year as a challenge, telling Executive in early June that the season had not yet picked up, despite being already well underway at the same time last year despite Ramadan also falling in June 2017.

Barhoush also mentions the rising number of beach bars and the competition among them as a challenge. “You have to give people good value and maintain standards to stay ahead of the game,” he says.

Despite the challenges, beach bars are breathing life into some areas along Lebanon’s coast, gathering people from all around the country for good times under sunny skies and offering alternatives for both residents of the area, and those who are staying overnight in coastal hotels and resorts.

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Environmental impactHospitality and tourism 2018Special Report

A sea of garbage

by Charlie Darwich-Houssami
written by Charlie Darwich-Houssami

As Lebanon’s summer season gets underway—off to a sleepy start thanks to Ramadan and atypical June weather—local media reports suggesting a drastic decline in the cleanliness of the country’s coastal waters have tempered the country’s beach mania.

Michel Afram, the director-general of the Lebanese Agricultural Research Institute (LARI), issued a warning in June that Lebanon had crossed the threshold in terms of environmental degradation. “The sea along Lebanon’s coast is extremely polluted,” Afram told The Daily Star. “This is nothing new, but it is surely getting worse.”

Wasting away

While a 2017 LARI study found that no water source in Lebanon was free of contamination—in results that harmonized with 2011 findings by the World Bank on several fresh water sources—Afram told The Daily Star that a 2018 study was underway, and would likely find even higher levels of toxic water contamination.

A June headline from local paper Al-Akhbar summed up the mood: “No region in Lebanon is free of pollution: Farewell to swimming.” Beirut.com followed, with: “Lebanese waters: Up to 100% pollution everywhere.”

A little dramatic, perhaps, but the severity of Lebanon’s coastal pollution is, without doubt, alarming.

The country’s coastline suffers from negligent littering, poor industrial waste disposal practices, and an extremely problematic national solid waste management plan. Greenpeace’s Julien Jreissati tells Executive that Lebanon generates around 2.5 million tons of solid waste per year, between 11 to 13 percent of which is plastic. Around 700 to 830 tons of plastic is disposed of in the country every day, much of it turning up on Lebanon’s beaches.

Lebanon’s landfills make an outsized contribution to coastal pollution, given that  the country’s three major, overworked dumps—Costa Brava, Bourj Hammoud, and Naameh—are right by the sea. Despite the lack of official case studies or government documentation, local media reports and eyewitness accounts suggest that garbage is being swept directly from these coastal landfills into the sea, particularly during periods of heavy rainfall. 

“What you see on the shores and floating on the surface of the water is only a small part of it,” Jreissati tells Executive. “Almost 90 percent of the waste goes under the seabed. These become microplastics eventually, since plastic decomposes into microplastic after hundreds of years but it never biodegrades—it is persistent in nature.”

Activists have consistently pointed to the environmental costs of such solid waste pollution, arguing that  leachate from garbage negatively affects the country’s marine life.

A toxic mix

The country’s waterways contain traces of heavy metals, with mercury, lead, cadmium, copper, and zinc all found in varying concentrations, according to The Daily Star. In 2011, an environment ministry report produced in partnership with UNDP found that the level of the chemical nitrate varied drastically between different coastal areas, with low levels recorded in Jbeil, but much higher quantities in Ramlet el-Baida. The US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) notes that accidentally drinking water containing high levels of nitrate can lead to blue baby syndrome, symptoms of which include shortness of breath and blue-tinted skin, and which—as the name implies—primarily affects infants. 

Sewage, too, has long been a major factor in the cleanliness of Lebanon’s coastal waters, although—given the variations in sewage treatment and disposal infrastructure in different areas—the level of water contamination are not uniform along the coast.

One way to determine this contamination level is to examine the levels of Escherichia coli—commonly known as E. coli—a type of bacteria that lives within the intestines of people and animals, strains of which can cause infections. According to the EPA, water containing over 126 E. coli colonies per 100 milliliters is considered dangerous to swim in, due to its potential negative health impacts. 

 A 2013 American University of Beirut study of water samples  from different Lebanese coastal regions found the cleanest sections to be Batroun, Jbeil, and Sour, based on the E.coli concentration, while the most polluted areas were Tripoli and Ramlet el-Baida. In Sour, only four E.coli colonies were present per 100 milliliters of water; in Ramlet el-Baida, Beirut’s last public beach, there were over 1,000.

The LARI 2017 study confirmed that Batroun’s waters host some of the country’s lowest levels of aerobic germs, while the sea off areas such as Tripoli and Ramlet al-Baida contains high levels of coliform bacteria (organisms found in fecal matter and used as a measure of sanitary quality). This is unsurprising, given that the latter is polluted by two sewage outfalls.

Despite the variations in contamination levels along Lebanon’s coast, Afram told The Daily Star that swimming in the sea from anywhere in the country posed a risk. “Just because some of these places have the least amount of contaminants, it doesn’t make the water safe to swim in,” he said, cautioning particularly against swimming with an open wound.

While the potential health impacts of Lebanon’s polluted coastal waters are hard to assess precisely, beachgoers over the past few years have anecdotally reported emerging from a refreshing swim only to develop rashes across their exposed skin.

Take a dip, if you dare.

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Hospitality and tourism 2018Public BeachesSpecial Report

The people’s beaches

by Nabila Rahhal
written by Nabila Rahhal

The French Riviera, Italy’s Amalfi Coast, and the shores of Greece’s Mykonos all have something in common: the existence of luxury private beach resorts and glitzy beach clubs alongside pristine and well-managed public beaches that are free for all. The presence of proper public beaches in a country is a significant contributor to its appeal to tourists—and hence its economy—not to mention a way to improve quality of life for the country’s residents.

While Lebanon has an abundance of private beach clubs and resorts, ask most Lebanese to name a public beach they would gladly visit—without being harassed by security guards from private beach resorts demanding they leave their “property,” or tripping over garbage—and they will be hard pressed to come up with an answer besides the Tyre Coast Nature Reserve.

Who’s responsible?

Lebanon’s coastline falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Public Works and Transport (MoPWT), specifically the Directorate General of Land and Maritime Transport. It is thus the ministry’s responsibility to protect and manage the country’s public beaches.

All beaches on Lebanon’s coast are, by law, public beaches, but only some of them are designated by the MoPWT as beaches for public use and therefore managed as such. The rest of Lebanon’s beaches are either neglected or used by private beach resorts as an extension of their projects. While no one can stop you from spreading a towel on any beach in the country, you may be harassed for doing so, if not prevented initially by gates and entry fees.

According to Iffat Idriss of Operation Big Blue (OBB), an activist network that seeks to protect the Mediterranean coast, in 2001 the MoPWT developed a strategy that designated fourteen coastal areas in various Lebanese cities as public beaches. The plan proposed to receive bids from NGOs and institutions to manage these beaches on the ministry’s behalf. That strategy never saw the light of day, she says. (The MoPWT did not respond to multiple requests from Executive to confirm the existence of such a plan, or other information provided by sources for this article.)

Jean Beiruti, the head of the syndicate of seaside resort operators, claims that only seven truly public beaches remain today, and that the MoPWT had been working on managing and developing these beaches before its budget was recently reduced. This means that operational expenses, such as hiring lifeguards, maintaining the beaches’ cleanliness, and constructing bathrooms, can no longer be funded, explains Beiruti, and without a budget to fund the maintenance of public beaches, there may soon be none left.

The public beaches that are still maintained today are either run by a city’s municipality or—in the case, for instance, of Ramlet el-Baida—by an organization on behalf of the MoPWT. Executive met with three public beach operators to learn more about the different models of managing a public asset like a beach, in a way that ensures all stakeholders’ rights are respected while providing a well-run facility attracting locals and tourists alike.

Ramlet el-Baida

The only public beach in Beirut is in Ramlet el-Baida, one of Lebanon’s more expensive areas in terms of real estate—as evidenced by the lavish residential buildings facing the beach. The 1,300m long strip of beach was popular in the 1960s and early 1970s, before the civil war took over and transformed it into an abandoned dump. Idriss recalls that when OBB formed to help clean Lebanon’s coastline in 1997, Ramlet el-Baida’s shore and seabed was covered in meters-deep trash that had accumulated during the war.

It was while cleaning up the beach that OBB discovered that sea turtles lived in these waters, laying their eggs in Ramlet el-Baida’s sand. They requested and received permission from the director general of land and maritime transport at the MoPWT, Abdel Hafeez el-Kaissi, to monitor the turtles and make sure they are protected. This led to a good relationship between OBB and the maritime transport division, and so, when the MoPWT put the management of public beaches out to tender in 2001, OBB won the right to manage Ramlet el-Baida.

At the time, explains Idriss, the beach had acquired a reputation as a dangerous place because it was unmonitored and fights regularly broke out on it. The beach was also polluted, and despite OBB’s cleaning efforts, people continued to use it as a dumping ground. To counter this, the first thing OBB did when it took over management was to develop a strategy for running an eco-beach. This strategy took into consideration four main elements: service management, which included all basic services, such as a clean bathroom and shower area and lifeguards on duty; environment management, which ensured the cleanliness of the shore through proper waste management and a plan for sewage treatment; raising awareness among beach users on the importance of protecting the environment, through activities and signage; and statistics and information management, whereby OBB gathered data on beach and water quality. 

With this strategy in hand, OBB took over Ramlet el-Baida, divided it into physical areas to better manage people’s interest in and expectations of a public beach. These divisions remain today, splitting the beach into several different pockets: one for sunbeds that beachgoers can rent for a small fee; one for women who would rather be secluded from other beach goers; one with tables and chairs for rent; and another for free use, to which people can bring their own picnics, tables, and chairs. A final area was due to be designated for argileh and barbecues, to lower the likelihood of beach goers burning their feet on hot coals buried in the sand. The only restrictions OBB enforces are on alcohol and public indecency (suntanning topless or naked), which are both against the law in Lebanon. (Consuming alcohol in public is against the law in Lebanon, according to lawyers Executive spoke to, though this law seems to be enforced only rarely).

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Managing such an operation requires a budget for annual maintenance and the setting up of tents, lifeguard posts, and other equipment, as well as the means to finance the salaries of the 60 employees who work on the beach (lifeguards, security guards, and others). The ministry does not have a budget to support Ramlet el-Baida public beach, says Idriss, and OBB thus covers its expenses by selling snacks and water at the kiosk on the beach as well as  renting out sunbeds, chairs, and tables. The organization also relies on various kinds of donations, for example furniture, which they revamp and use to beautify the beach as much as possible.

While OBB has good intentions, it is working with limited  available resources and a tight budget since the MoWT does not have the financial means to support it. It does not help that the beach water is polluted with unregulated sewage disposal, according to multiple sources. And yet, approximately 2,000 people still access Ramlet el-Baida on a busy day, according to Idriss, swimming in the sea in spite of multiple warnings about the poor quality of the water.

Anfeh

Anfeh’s public beach, Tahet el-Rih, got its name due to its  protection from the wind. A rocky beach known for the blue and white walls of the structures around it (the result of a joint agreement between the municipality and the owners, struck more than a decade ago), Tahet el-Rih is reminiscent of Greek coastal villages.

Prior to the Lebanese civil war, according to Anfeh municipality lawyer Kamel Anjoul, some  residents acquired permits from the public works ministry to develop salt mines along Tahet el-Rih, as Anfeh was then known for salt mining. During the war years, salt mining was no longer a lucrative business and so many of these people converted their salt mines into small chalets for personal use.

In 2014, says Anjoul, some of these people remodeled their chalets again, this time into small restaurants to cater to those who were accessing the public beach. At the same time, he says, Anfeh’s seawater was gaining a reputation for being among the cleanest in Lebanon. This came just in time for Lebanon’s garbage crisis, when beach lovers were desperately seeking unpolluted beaches in which to dip their toes. Anfeh’s reputation drew in more visitors, encouraging more chalet owners to convert their chalets into restaurants, which, in turn, drew in more visitors. Anfeh’s popularity was also aided by social media, as user-generated photos of scenic blue and white houses by the sea inspired more visits.

Anfeh’s public beach today boasts around a dozen restaurants and snack shops, and attracts around 400 people per venue on a busy day, Anjoul says. This means that, on such a day, close to 5000 people might visit Tahet el-Rih—placing a lot of strain on waste management. When the chalets were for private use, their sewage went directly into the sea, but at low volume, since chalet owners tended to only use these properties during the day. But with the development of Tahet el-Rih as a tourist destination, this system was no longer feasible. Restaurants also generate more solid waste than a private chalet, and some of them were throwing this waste into the sea. The municipality had to intervene, Anjoul says. “The municipality mandated that the chalet-turned-restaurant owners develop a sewage network specifically for Tahet el-Rih, and this is what happened.” The sewage is now directed into a big tank that is drained daily, Anjoul says, with the system paid for by the owners and facilitated by the municipality.  “If the beach is no longer clean, we will lose the attraction which drew in the tourists to Anfeh in the first place,” he says.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Tahet el-Rih’s restaurants are a tourist attraction that has the potential to bring heightened economic benefit to Anfeh over time, especially as the municipality is working on several projects to attract other forms of tourism to the area. “A lot is being done to develop tourism in Anfeh, but we need funding for that, and we are trying to secure that from NGOs,” Anjoul explains. “But it takes time to prepare the needed documents and studies for such funding. We want to provide more for tourists to do when they come to Anfeh than just go to the beach for lunch and then go home. … If we are able to develop [it] in the way we want and have people spend a longer time in Anfeh, it will have a good impact on the economy overall.”

But one cannot escape the fact that these restaurants, despite their attractiveness and economic value, are in violation of the law, because they are built on a public beach. The municipality is aware of the sensitivity of this issue. Anjoul explains, “The current municipality is looking at the situation from a pragmatic perspective, saying that it is something that has already happened and so should be dealt with from that starting point, without looking at the past. So from now on, no one is allowed to build anything on the public beach. The municipality’s main goal is to protect the environment and ruins of Anfeh, while trying to manage the existing situation and make the best out of it.”

Sour

Sour’s beach was decreed a natural reserve in 1998 by the public works ministry, through Law 708/98, and officially named Tyre Coast Nature Reserve. The reserve is 3.5 kilometers long—from Rest House Tyr to the Ras el-Ain area—and stretches over an expanse of 3,300,000 square meters, making it the widest shore on Lebanon’s coast. It is managed by the Tyre Coast Nature Reserve Committee, which is made up of different ministerial representatives and a representative from the municipality, who is typically made head of the committee. The committee is  supervised by the Ministry of Environment (MoE), since the beach is part of a natural reserve.

The reserve is divided into three sections, one of which is for agriculture and is located next to Ras el-Ain. The second section is designated as a sanctuary for sea turtles, fauna, and migrating birds, since it contains “wetlands of international importance,” as per the 1971 Convention on Wetlands. The third section is the public beach, which is 900 meters long. Every year, the Municipality of Sour submits a request to the MoE for a permit to manage that section of the reserve as a public beach for the summer season (May 15 – October 15), though at this point this has become more of a formality, explains Hassan Dbouk, the head of the Union of Tyre Municipalities. 

During the summer season, a 150 meter long stretch of the public beach contains 49 tents situated at a distance from the waves,  serving food and drinks to beachgoers. Those who sit under the tents or use the chairs provided by these establishments must pay for what they consume—some tents have a minimum consumption charge—and those who prefer not to pay can sit closer to the sea or in another section of the public beach, where they can use their own beach equipment and enjoy a picnic.

Photo by: Greg Demarque/Executive

Every year, permission to set up tents is granted to the same 49 individuals who have run these tents since 2001, says Dbouk. While he wishes they could open the area to newcomers, he claims that this is not possible under the current system. A big tent rents for $660 per month while the smaller ones cost close to $580. Aside from renting out the tents, the municipality also makes money from the beach via parking lot fees, which are set at $2 a day. Dbouk says 45 percent of the total revenue goes to the Tyre Coast Nature Reserve Committee and the rest is used by the municipality to cover their expenses, including maintenance and supervisory work.

At the start of every season, the municipality levels the sand on the public beach and removes the accumulated waste. They then check the infrastructure, which includes running water and the sewage system—the municipality has developed a sanitation network with two small pumping stations for the tented area only. The municipality also supervises the tents to make sure there are no violations to the rights of the public (infringing on the area designated for free public use) and that basic appearances and safety standards are met (clean kitchens and no broken furniture, for example). Finally, the municipality, in cooperation with the public works ministry, ensures the presence of lifeguards and other staff, while the Red Cross has a tent on the beach to treat any injuries.

While Sour’s public beach was always an attraction—the tents have existed in one form or another since the 1970s, says Dbouk—the past five years have seen a significant increase in the number of visitors, reaching up to 20,000 on a busy day (usually on Sundays and they have around ten such days per season). Dbouk says the beach could host even more, if its capacity were increased by adding a small section of the protected area to it—something he is against. He believes this growing popularity is due to Sour’s reputation for clean sea water and its proper management. It is a place, he says, where people can enjoy a day on a free beach without feeling they have compromised their standards of comfort and services.

This influx of visitors has become a bit of a challenge, explains Dbouk, although the municipalities union is happy with the boost to Sour’s economy from the visitors. Still, managing waste on the public beach has become more difficult, and this year the municipality plans to add additional bins in an effort to control this. Controlling the wildlife sanctuary area of what is, after all, a natural reserve, is also starting to become difficult, since the volume of visitors means that the protected area is sometimes encroached upon by wandering beachgoers. Dbouk plans to raise this issue with the reserve’s committee to reach a satisfactory solution for all parties.

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Beach resortsHospitality and tourism 2018Special Report

The livin’ is easy?

by Nabila Rahhal
written by Nabila Rahhal

A quick online search for ‘Lebanon in the 1960s’ reveals dozens of photographs celebrating Mediterranean leisure. Some show people lazing on the sand in what appears to be a public beach, others are of smiling women water skiing with a backdrop of the glittering sea and an equally glittering resort, and others still are of those enjoying a swanky beach club—defined as properties where one pays an entry fee to access a pool area and services—and five star resort pools, which are the same concept but with a hotel by the sea.

It is clear that the sea was one of the major attractions for tourism in Beirut back in the day. Today, a few of the beach clubs and resorts from the 1960s are still operational and many others have entered the arena, outgrowing the boundaries of Beirut to spread across a significant portion of Lebanon’s 225 km long coast—pretty much wherever is not occupied with agricultural or industrial areas.

While these outlets had their years in the sun, lack of proper planning, sea pollution, a highly competitive market, and a dearth of tourists have all taken their toll on beach resorts and clubs—and hence on beach tourism in Lebanon.

Back to the beginning

In the late 1950s, saints ruled Beirut’s coast starting with Lebanon’s first resort hotel Saint Georges (located in downtown Beirut) and moving on to beach clubs Saint Simon and Saint Michel, both of which were in Ouzai, on the southern outskirts of Beirut—which was back then the “it” location for beach clubs in Beirut. “The concept of beach clubs was popular historically and the most beautiful and biggest beaches were in Ouzai and Jounieh. Jounieh served more as a public beach, but Ouzai was where the best clubs were: St. Simon, St. Michel; Pepe Abed also had a beach there and it was “the” place by all means. When planes would come to Lebanon [tourists] would see that, and the first thing they would do is book a hotel in Ouzai,” recounts Roger Edde, owner of Eddésands Wellness and Beach Resort in Jbeil. This proliferation of saintly resorts led people to affectionately call Ramlet al-Baida’s public beach Saint Balesh (Saint Free). Sporting Beach Club was another successful beach club of that period, and it remains in operation to date, banking on its now vintage and nostalgic appeal.

Between the late 1960s and 1978, several resorts opened their doors, including Riviera, which opened as a hotel in 1956, and then got a permit to develop its beach in 1968. Summerland opened its doors as a resort in 1978, while La Siesta, a resort in Khalde, launched in the 1970s. “La Siesta was among the best resorts in the country. In July 2017, the owners decided to reopen it and bring back fond memories to many,” says Walid Yammine, the resort’s current general manager.

The intensification of the civil war in Lebanon brought an end to all these midsummer night dreams and Ouzai’s glitzy resorts became home to those fleeing the war, while other resorts and beach clubs in areas heavily exposed to bombing were temporarily—or permanently— shut down.

While the civil war brought the shutters down on Beirut’s resorts, it brought a new dawn to coastal properties starting from Nahr el-Kalb to Safra, and gave birth to the concept of chalet clubs or private beach resorts where one has to own a chalet—or be a guest of someone who does—to enter. Such chalets were often used by their owners as a refuge from the war (see box page 25 for more on modern day chalet projects).

The rebirth of resorts

With the end of the civil war in 1990, investors once again turned their eyes to the shore to study the feasibility of recreating the heydays of Lebanon’s beach tourism. Ouzai had changed demographically and was no longer suitable for beach clubs, so investors headed further south to the sandy beaches of Jiyeh, on the outskirts of Saida, with Bamboo Bay beach club opening in 1999 and Voile Blue, also in Jiyeh, in 2003 (it later moved to Jbeil).

But it was not until 2003 that beach resorts—complete with a hotel and multiple F&B outlets—made a comeback in Lebanon with international brand Mövenpick opening in Beirut’s Raouche, and newcomer Eddésands opening first as a beach club then as a hotel two years later. In explaining his decision to open a beach resort in Lebanon, Edde says he wanted to somehow recreate, in his hometown of Jbeil, the beautiful surroundings and quality of life he enjoyed when living on the shores of south of France. What began as a small rustic project that mainly catered to family and friends soon expanded: “In 2003, we decided to go big and go for something that would compete with the likes of Nikki Beach [one of the first luxury beach resort concepts] when it comes to funky nightlife and a beach bar,” he says.

At the time, large scale hospitality projects by the beach—especially in a then remote area like Jbeil—were rare and Edde says his intent of enticing people to come from Beirut to Jbeil for the resort was met with outright skepticism. But he says he knew the project would be a success for several reasons: “I knew it would work in Lebanon because, when [living] in the south of France, I met many Lebanese who had come back to Lebanon and were looking for fun activities like they had abroad, so I thought that if I made a good offering, people like me would come. Second of all, the Arabs, the European elites, and the Americans back then were in the south of France. Why? Because it is on the Mediterranean, they have the good weather and fun facilities. So I thought a good idea would be to have another destination like that, but in Byblos [Jbeil],” recalls Edde, adding that his idea worked and the resort was wildly successful during its peak years.

An unsettled sea

The political situation being what it is in Lebanon, beach clubs and resorts would have a couple of great years before a crisis hit and business slowed down only to skyrocket the following season. During the 2000s, investments continued to be made in coastal areas—mainly in Jiyeh and Rmeileh in the south and Jbeil in the north—but they were more in beach clubs than resorts.

With the onset of the Syrian crisis in 2012, tourism in Lebanon went into a steady decline (see overview page 16). As result, many beach clubs have either shut down or re-conceptualized their experiences to stay afloat in a competitive market (for more on beach clubs, see article page 41). On the other hand, beach resorts—with their hotels—seem to be more equipped to weather a stormy sea.

Hotels remain operational throughout the year, therefore sustaining a resort property during the winter. “Veer opened in 2012 as a beach club with only a few bungalows. The next year we opened a hotel property with 31 rooms. The original plan was just to have a beach club, but beach clubs are purely seasonal, so we decided to go into the hotel business to be able to work year-round although there is still a difference between the volume of work in the summer and in the winter,” says Adella Bassim, operation manager at Veer, adding that in winter they work on low-season rates and mainly  cater to corporate accounts in their vicinity in by hosting conferences and events.

Indeed, all resort operators Executive interviewed spoke about the conferences and events they host on their properties during the winter. General manager of Mövenpick Chadi Gedeon speaks of his hotel as being a “five star business hotel with resort facilities,” while the general manager of Kempinski Summerland Hotel and Resort Daniele Vastolo says they attract pharmaceutical companies who come for conferences and reserve hotel rooms.

For Nizar Alouf, board member of Riviera Hotel, the beach club and hotel complement each other. “Having a hotel really helps us in summer, and the beach adds value to the hotel as well. Tourists have a wide variety of hotels in Lebanon to choose from, so when looking among them they choose Riviera because of the pool, especially in the summer. In winter, they come for the service and also for the beach because we have good weather in Lebanon year-round and foreign tourists appreciate that,” he explains.

At first, the 86 chalets in La Siesta were planned to be rented out on an annual or seasonal basis, but the market demand was more in weekly or weekend usage, explains Walid Yammine, general manager of La Siesta, so they re-conceptualized them as hotel rooms that people can book on a nightly basis. Yammine says they were fully booked for the Eid weekend and expects to have a strong summer for the chalets, driven mainly by local Lebanese and expats looking for a getaway.

Another day in paradise

To maximize their revenues, many of these resorts allow for day visitors to access the property by paying an entrance fee, just like they do at a beach club. “The beach club is more economically beneficial for us because we have daily entrance fees, whereas we only have 35 rooms in our property. But they support each other in that we have many people who come spend the weekend in the summer—30 percent of those who come to Veer stay in the hotel. In the summer we have an occupancy of 85 to 100 percent,” says Bassim.

Three months after its re-opening in 2017, Kempinski Summerland Hotel allowed day passes, which at first were for a limited number of people to ensure quality service, but then gradually the number of guests increased. “We decided to have this because we did not want to be seen as a lonely entity; we want people to enter. Summerland was very popular with the Lebanese in the 80s and 90s, so how would they feel if they cannot access it?” asks Vastolo, explaining that the hotel also has 500 privately owned cabins whose owners are allowed to bring four guests each. This and the day passes support the hotel by bringing in more business to their F&B outlets, he says.

Managing a budget

The slowdown in tourism, the dwindling purchasing power among locals, and the increased cost of doing business have created a situation where resort operators are feeling the stress. Edde says, “One of the biggest expenses we are paying is electricity because we can’t use the Lebanese government supply—when it is available—because it is not regular and will damage our sensitive machinery. And then you have to put an entrance fee which is comparative [to the region], and when you do that, you are losing money,” adding that their costs end up being higher than the revenues generated from their clients.

Alouf also mentions taxes, explaining that since Riviera is located in an upscale area they have to pay more maritime taxes than neighboring resorts or beach clubs in Beirut. “When Riviera is paying a certain amount of money to the state, and beach B is paying less than that, what shall we do? Shall we make customers pay more than they do in beach B? It is a real problem,” says Alouf, explaining that they finally decided to increase their entry fee while improving their services in order to distinguish themselves from other resorts in proximity. Still, with a short season and lower resort occupancy during weekdays compared to the weekend, Alouf argues that operating a resort is not as profitable as people assume. “We have the taxes, electricity, services, treatment of water, and maintenance, which is very costly being exposed to sea air and water. People think what they are paying is pure profit, but it is not the case,” says Alouf.

La Siesta’s Yammine says maintenance of their 20,000 square meter resort is the biggest expense. “Fixed expenses are the highest; as for operational costs we try to manage by having the right staff at a good salary. We try to cover our fixed costs during the summer when we have the high season,” he says, explaining that they have managed their profit by creating affordable options for their customers that include packages that combine both entry fees and some F&B expenses, and affordable F&B choices.

Waves of pollution

Whether it is a resort or a beach club, the impact of the waste crisis and subsequent ministerial decisions on sea water, and thus on beach resorts, cannot be overemphasized. All resorts operators Executive spoke with, no matter where they were located in Lebanon, said that the fact that the sea is polluted with both visible and invisible waste has negatively impacted their business.

Vastolo says the sea is more of a liability than an asset for them at Kempinski, which is located in Jnah on the border of Ouzai. “For us it is very frustrating because we are very close to the sea, and this should be one of our strengths, and instead it is something we cannot really capitalize upon because of the sea pollution. We are very happy that there is a neighboring hotel which will open its doors soon, and we actually hope that with the opening of this hotel, the government will be more sensitive to the fact that people will come here to enjoy the sun and sea, but unfortunately next to it there is open sewage overflowing on the sand and going straight into the water. It definitely affects the quality of the water, and this is something you cannot run away from. We have a red flag displayed constantly on the sand and when our clients ask us why, we have to be very transparent and tell them,” he complains. Gedeon says that at Mövenpick they constantly monitor their online reviews, and complaints about the quality of sea water are increasingly prominent.

Yammine says that not only are E. coli levels in the sea water near their resort constantly high—they run regular checks—but they also suffer from visible garbage which they have to clean several times per day to maintain the quality of their shore. “When you are by the beach and see a piece of a garbage the first impression you will get is that our resort is dirty, even if the garbage is not from us, so we are trying to avoid reaching that point. The waste crisis that happened only two years ago is not something to take lightly since a lot of garbage was thrown [out] haphazardly during that period,” he says.

Veer suffers from both visible garbage and the near constant emissions from the Zouk power plant, putting a damper not only on guests’ experience, but also on their outdoor furniture—which has to be cleaned daily or will turn black—and on the quality of the sea water adjacent to them.

Even in areas where sea pollution is low, people’s impressions regarding the sea water in Lebanon leaves them hesitant to take a dip. “People love to come to Eddésands, but they spend most of their time in the pools. I tell them ‘I swim every day and drink water from the sea,’ but they don’t believe me. They don’t even dare to come into the sea when we have a fabulous sandy beach where you can walk for 50 meters in the sand and you cannot benefit from it. You are really fighting a difficult war,” Edde says.

All of the resort operators Executive met with say that as a result of the sea water pollution, they put in extra efforts into their pool experiences either by having additional pools or by providing pools with distinctive features.

A brighter horizon

Despite these challenges facing resort operators in Lebanon, it seems not all hope is lost for a stronger beach tourism offering in Lebanon. Investments are being made into resorts in several areas along the coast, which indicates that people still see potential there.

Existing resort operators are keeping the faith knowing that, with the proper master plan and real intent for change, things could turn around. “As hoteliers, we would love the government to take a stand and say, ‘You know what? We have a coast line, so let us capitalize on that.’ This is what Italy did in the 1980s when they were in the same condition as well, but the government decided to take a stand and make the coast attractive. Italy is just the same as Lebanon in that we have good food, history, fun, and mountains, but Italy has invested so much money and commitment from generation to generation to be more attentive, and we are getting the results now,” says Vastolo, who is Italian. For the sake of beach tourism in Lebanon, let us hope we decide to do things the Italian way.

[/media-credit] Click on image to enlarge

[/media-credit] Click on image to enlarge

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Hospitality and tourism 2018Overview

A good summer?

by Nabila Rahhal
written by Nabila Rahhal

The celebration of Eid el-Fitr on June 16 marked the beginning of summer 2018 in Lebanon. As the season kicks off, all those in the tourism industry are speculating over whether it will be as good a season as summer 2017, or whether tourism will take a turn back to the bleak summer days of 2012 to 2016. Despite a rocky end to 2017—with current Prime Minister-designate Saad Hariri’s since-rescinded resignation at the start November—the first quarter of 2018 was off to a good start. According to the Ministry of Tourism, the total number of tourists in Lebanon rose from 345,168 in the first three months of 2017 to 362,398 in the same period in 2018. This jump was led mainly by tourists from Europe and America, who together constituted 49.56 percent of all visitors to Lebanon in the first quarter. Performance numbers for the second quarter of 2018 are not yet available, but since summer has become the main touristic period for the country, all eyes will be on the next two months to determine what to make of 2018.

Of summers past

Tourism in Lebanon—the success of which had always been a roller coaster ride, dependent on internal and regional stability—was set on a downwards trend with the onset of the Syrian crisis in 2012, before  taking a slight upwards turn in 2017, most likely as a result of the election of Michel Aoun as president at the end of 2016, and the resulting increase in political stability. However, this upturn was nothing to write home about, according to those in the hospitality industry, and was not comparable to the tourism witnessed in Lebanon in summers before the Syrian crisis. So far, according to those in the industry, it seems that 2018 is shaping up to be a repeat of the preceding summer.  “Summer 2017 was a very good one compared to the previous year [2016], but not to be compared to the strong summers like 2008, 2009, and 2004. We are still very far from those summers. [Summer] 2018 is shaping up to be hopefully the same as 2017, but not better,” says Chadi Gedeon, general manager of Mövenpick Hotel and Resort Beirut.

Indeed, the dismal touristic seasons of recent years have lowered the expectations of Lebanon’s hoteliers. “We are seeing a light [at the end of the tunnel] this season, with better reservations so far in the year, and [we] are seeing more foreigners in the city,”  says Nizar Alouf, board member at Riviera Hotel. “We hope that finally June, July, August will be good for Lebanon, and of course for us. The hotel industry these days is not looking to make money but to break even or not to lose money compared to the loss of money in past years.”

Will they or won’t they? 

Although 2017 was marked by the slow but steady return of tourists from the Gulf, Hariri’s resignation announcement in November 2017 caused regional tensions to rise again, explains Daniele Vastolo, general manager of the Kempinski Hotel.

Whether summer 2018 will see more visitors from the Gulf to Lebanon is a subject of speculation amongst Lebanon’s five star hoteliers. “Every business today in Lebanon is suffering, in my opinion, from the boycott of the Gulf and Arab tourists over the last few years,” Roger Edde, the owner of the Eddésands Hotel and Resort, says. “This [boycott] is supposed to be formally lifted this year. What may help us is that there are serious tensions between Turkey and the GCC countries because of Turkey’s connection with the Muslim brotherhood and Qatar, and so many who had deserted us for Turkey might change their minds.” He continued: “Besides, Turkish people don’t speak Arabic, while Lebanese do. Lebanon is a small country that [Gulf nationals] know very well. They miss Lebanon.”

Gedeon says Movenpick had seen an increase of Arab Gulf visitors over this year’s Eid, as compared to the same period last year, but that with travel advisories cautioning nationals from some GCC countries against visiting Lebanon not yet officially lifted, he is not expecting a drastic increase in their numbers. Thus, business continues as usual and hoteliers must keep looking to develop other markets while keeping a longing eye on the Gulf.

Going local

For Beirut’s Kempinski Hotel, local Lebanese looking for a “staycation” have grown into a significant market this year. “In the last few months, we have been very strong with the Lebanese market itself, and 40 percent of our guests are Lebanese,” Vastolo says. “You have expats coming to visit their family, and, as a new market, we are having Lebanese coming from the south or the north for a little retreat here.” Moreover, he noted, new Kempinski hotels in Africa would likely make African guests a future growth market for Kempinski Lebanon.

Gedeon says that expatriate Lebanese have become the country’s main leisure tourists. “Ideally, our occupancy is supposed to be a 50/50 division between leisure and business, but these days, unfortunately, it is 70 percent business,” he says. “This is because there is no real leisure segment in Lebanon yet. We have the Lebanese expats who come back for the summer and this is our leisure market: they come for two weeks and don’t want to open their house or sometimes they don’t have houses in Lebanon. It is a strong segment but it is not enough.”

Widening the net

For the past few years, most of the people making up the tourism crowds in Lebanon have been Lebanese expats, residents of Lebanon, and Europeans. The tourism industry has thus had to diversify its offerings to cater to these groups of tourists, whose expectations of a vacation may differ from those of a tourist from the Arab Gulf—which had prior to 2012 been the main market to which Lebanon catered. As such, alternative tourism segments such as rural, religious and food tourism have been developed, bringing significant advantages to the communities in which they have been established.

Driven by the search for non-polluted beachesnd the high entry fees of most private beach clubs and resorts, beach tourism has been developing on public beaches like Sour’s, and Anfeh’s Tahet el-Rih, and is attracting Lebanese and European tourists alike. Beach bars, where one can enjoy a drink steps away from the water and without paying an entry fee, are also gaining popularity and have attracted seasoned hospitality investors. Meanwhile, beach resorts and clubs are coming up with innovative packages and concepts to attract new customers, but are struggling to stay abreast amid mounting costs and encroaching marine pollution, which works against their best efforts to provide a refreshing escape for those who choose to pay entry fees.

Only time will tell what summer 2018 will bring to the Lebanese tourism industry, but stakeholders in the sector will hopefully have learned their lesson, and will continue to work on the country’s nascent alternative tourism options and on the new markets that have opened to Lebanon—while not forgetting about our neighbors, the tourists from the Gulf.

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LeadersOpinion

It starts with you

by Executive Editors
written by Executive Editors

A driver throws a sandwich wrapper from his car window onto the street. A pedestrian casually tosses an empty plastic bottle into the sea during his daily morning walk on the Corniche. A family enjoys a lovely day picnicking on the beach or in the mountain and thinks nothing of leaving their trash behind. These are frustratingly and sadly daily occurrences in Lebanon, and they must stop. Now.

It is often said that the Lebanese have been spoiled by domestic help and tend to think that there is always somebody to clean up after them—hence littering with no afterthought—but this does not explain why the same Lebanese who walk the extra mile to place a piece of garbage in the bin in a foreign country think nothing of tossing it on the street in their own. This issue runs deeper. It seems that Lebanese do not feel a sense of ownership when it comes to public spaces, and while maintaining a sparkling clean home, they are apathetic toward littering on the street, beach, or mountain—public spaces to be enjoyed by all residents of Lebanon.

It is not a stretch to say that the vast majority know that littering is bad, but many do it anyway. There is a clear disrespect for public spaces in Lebanon. One factor could be the lack of civic education among many Lebanese. Civic education was only included in the Lebanese curriculum in the early 2000s and, therefore, the generations before that year were not taught to respect Lebanon, or their collective rights and responsibilities as Lebanese to maintain a clean and healthy environment. The generation educated from the year 2000 onwards have learned about the importance of collective responsibility, so hopefully they can share these ideals with their parents, teaching them not to litter rather than learning from them how to ruin Lebanon’s natural environment.

But until a real social contract is adopted, the environment in Lebanon will continue to suffer immeasurably. Our shores are drowning in waste while a significant portion of our seawater is heavily polluted. All of the beach operators—whether of public beaches or private resorts and clubs—who spoke with Executive said that the biggest challenge they face is littering, despite regularly cleaning the shore, sometimes multiple times per day. There are many factors that contribute to this waste onslaught—including the ongoing garbage crisis—and the eradication of littering will not be a panacea to all of our environmental problems. But we have to start somewhere, and the best place to start is with ourselves. It is arguably easier to get someone to walk a few extra steps to dump a piece of garbage in a bin instead of throwing it on the street than it is to get those in authority to solve the country’s waste management problems.

This does not mean the government should not intervene to force citizens to reduce littering. Civic education is the first step toward doing so, as it is only through the proper education of our youth that we can implement future change. For those who are beyond the age of civic education, a national awareness campaign against littering is needed to encourage people to treat public spaces like their homes and stop their rampant littering. Both of these steps, however, may be not enough of a deterrent against littering for some people and this is why some punitive measures should be introduced. It was only when driving without a seatbelt in Lebanon became a fineable offense that people began to strap in.  Personal consequences for actions are the only thing that works for a wide number of people, and, as such, a fine should be imposed on those who are caught littering in public spaces.

Not littering may seem like a small step to take, but indeed, the longest journeys begin with a single step. If we want to save Lebanon’s beaches and make them enjoyable for both tourists and locals alike, then it is time to take that step. Right now. No excuses.

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Last wordOpinion

Access to information in Lebanon

by Ghassan Moukheiber
written by Ghassan Moukheiber

The same questions come up often: “How can I use the Access to Information Law (A2I)?” or “Can I use it at all, or has it joined the ranks of the dozens of good laws that are not enforced in Lebanon?” Lebanese citizens, once hopeful that transparency in the country would be heightened with the passing of the A2I Law on February 10, 2017—after years of preparation—are now disappointed by the many unfortunate examples that show how difficult, or seemingly impossible, it is to actually enforce. The latest in the series of such disappointments was the delay in releasing a copy of the naturalization decree, ultimately published after significant pressure on the website of the interior ministry. So, is the A2I Law dead?

To all such citizens, take comfort that the A2I Law is alive, but requires a stronger will and better means for enforcement. The law is an important milestone on the road to preventing and fighting corruption in Lebanon, but not an end of the road by itself—it requires citizens to monitor and promote its full enforcement. Below are some facts to illustrate issues that are not always well understood:

The A2I Law is in full force and effect. It does not require any implementation decree to become obligatory, as is falsely believed in good or in bad faith, by citizens and administration alike. All entities listed in the law, collectively referred to as “the Administration,” must abide by all its provisions without false excuses, such as waiting for an implementation decree that is in the making. However, all should make sure that such a decree—albeit useful if properly drafted and enacted—should not modify or limit the very broad and powerful rights provided by the law.

Enforcement remedies are available. Many administrations responded positively to requests for information. Others, unfortunately, did not. In such cases, in addition to the legitimate, if not necessary, political blaming and shaming—and until the National Anti-Corruption Commission is established by law—the reluctant administration can be subject to a judicial injunction passed by the judge of urgent matters of the Shura Council. This was successfully done in the past and citizens are encouraged to seek such remedy in the future.

The law is about more than just access to information. Many, including politicians and lawyers, overlook the fact that the law also provides new provisions: to protect private personal data and to mandate a written rationale for all individual administrative decisions, under the sanction of annulment. Both subjects were in debate over the naturalization decree. The following caveats must be noted: First, the protection of personal data should not be an excuse for not providing access to personal decrees; and second, judges and lawyers should be encouraged to strike down non-motivated administrative decisions using the A2I Law in order to force a change in behavior of reluctant administrations.

Automatically published information is more important than access to information upon request. This includes; annual activity reports, regulatory administrative decisions, and, most importantly, information about funds, within 15 days of their expenditure. The challenge remains to have all the above appropriately written and published on dedicated webpages for each administration. Many supportive initiatives are underway. The law further exposes the counter-trend decision of the government to put the electronic version of the Official Gazette behind a paywall. This measure is in violation of the general principle of transparency underpinning the A2I Law, and therefore requires a reversal through the development of a free, fully-fleged legal web portal. Also, the same general legal principle of transparency, and article 56 of the constitution, mandate that all administrative decrees and decisions be automatically published in the Official Gazette, including, but not limited to the so-called individual decrees, such as naturalization and pardon decisions.

As the saying goes in the legal world, “You win your case twice: once when the judgment is passed, and then again when it is enforced.” The same applies to laws. We won first, after many years of effort, when the A2I Law was enacted. The challenge now, for citizens and politicians alike, is to keep-up the efforts of another nature, to win again, by making sure that the law is properly enforced by all concerned administrations.

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CommentEconomics & Policy

Let’s have a serious talk about drugs

by Joseph el-Khoury
written by Joseph el-Khoury

The cannabis debate never completely goes away in Lebanon. This is not surprising, given that the country is a major producer and consumer of the psychoactive plant. Everyone who is anyone has an opinion on the drug, usually expressed through impactless sound bites. The discussion was reignited on June 18 by an Internal Security Forces (ISF) Facebook post reporting a “drug bust” that led to the arrest of three teenagers, accompanied by a picture showing rollups, a plastic bag with a small amount of hash, and one joint. The post drew widespread mockery online, with comments from Facebook users thanking the police for “saving” them and making them feel much “safer.” Beneath the sarcasm,  the inadequacies of our drugs laws were duly exposed.

Retribution or rehab?

This viral ISF misfire was followed by an official, theoretically binding, circular issued by Attorney General Judge Samir Hammoud on June 26—World Drugs Day—urging his colleagues to immediately refer drug users to the Drug Addiction Committee, in accordance with article 199 of Law 376 (1998). Since the law was passed 20 years ago, judges have had the option of referring individuals arrested for drug possession to a rehabilitation committee based in the Ministry of Justice. However, a survey released earlier this year by SKOUN, a local non-profit outpatient therapeutic center, found that a very low number of arrested drug users had been referred. There are a number of explanations for this, stigma and ignorance being obvious ones. But for years the committee has also received no political backing, remaining chronically underfunded and understaffed.

The value of the rehabilitation offered via this committee is questionable, even to those arrested and referred to it as “addicts.” The term addiction has itself lost popularity in clinical circles as it does not account for the wide variety in patterns of use and the impact on the physical and mental health of the user.  Evidence from a multitude of studies worldwide suggests it is likely that the majority of those arrested for possession of cannabis, or even harder drugs, are not addicted to them and do not require intensive treatments like detoxification and residential rehabilitation. Most drug use is recreational, though some remains problematic and can lead to loss of functionality, mood disorders, and psychotic illnesses in the absence of physical dependence.

The traditional structure of rehabilitation in Lebanon focused on the tail end of heavy drug use: mostly opiate-dependent young men who had fallen by society’s wayside. Some organizations, such as Oum el-Nour, did evolve, and now offer a more diverse approach, such as community programs and specialist centers for women.  In 2012, the Ministry of Public Health launched its opiate substitution program, which widened Lebanon’s treatment horizons, but also widened the rift between the proponents of total abstinence and the advocates of harm reduction.

Despite an absence of reliable statistics, patterns of illegal substance abuse in Lebanon continue to evolve. New drugs have come onto the market—such as spice, salvia, and ketamine—and are often sold mixed together and laced with toxic contaminants. The use of cannabis is also on the rise, with studies revealing a wider public tolerance and increased use amongst the younger generations. The electronic dance scene has also exploded, with Beirut becoming an international destination for techno-fueled nights out. With this reputation came MDMA and a variety of stimulants, expanding the inventory of party drugs, which was long-dominated by cocaine.

Each country has an idiosyncratic drug ecosystem responsive to social, political, and economical factors that regulate supply and demand. In Lebanon, the establishment has realized that action needs to be taken, yet they and the public seem incapable of having a mature debate on which drug policies to adopt.

Shifting policies

Whether you think drugs are harmless entertainment or the affliction of our generation, it is hard to find a convincing argument for putting adolescents in jails that fail to rehabilitate. Outside of Lebanon, the drug problem has been approached in a more innovative manner, with an emerging trend toward decriminalizing or legalizing some or all drugs. All policy options carry risks and have caveats. But generally, a body of evidence is building to support this liberal perspective. Portugal, the Netherlands, Uruguay, the US, and—most recently—Canada have all been more than willing to experiment with this approach.

Decriminalizing is usually the least problematic first step, as it involves the state foregoing the use of incarceration for drug use. It does not require a significant shift in philosophy, as prison sentences could be replaced by fines and investment in prevention and treatment efforts.

Legalization, however, carries with it a logistical nightmare. It requires a strong state apparatus able to guarantee the sources of production and distribution of drugs. I do not believe the Lebanese government would be able to regulate a legal drug production and retail industry. For example, calls to legalize cannabis for medical purposes—recently backed by the MPs of Baalbek-Hermel—ignore the fact that the overwhelming majority of cannabis is used for recreational purposes in Lebanon. Exporting Lebanese cannabis for medical use would mean depriving recreational users of a cheap local supply. This might be welcome to some, but the counter effect would be an even greater reliance on criminal networks to source and sell cannabis to recreational users.

Politicians, bloggers, and advocates have too often used populist discourse to gain the support of a large section of the population, while dismissing the basics of drug economics and global experience. It is worth mentioning that the US is only now investing millions in researching the impact of cannabis on mental health, in particular psychosis.

As its stands, the takeaway message has to be that the drug conversation should continue, in a transparent and honest way. Supporting liberal laws for dealing with drug production, dealing, and use should not automatically mean support for recreational drug consumption. Cannabis is not a harmless path to achieve happiness. In the event that it is legalized, it should be put at least on an equal footing with alcohol. Limitations on who can use it and under which circumstances should be enforced. Legal or not, substance abuse in all its forms should be discouraged, especially for those still in the developmental stage before adulthood.

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CommentEconomics & Policy

Refugee rights not up for debate

by Bassam Khawaja
written by Bassam Khawaja

In the past month, Lebanon has seen a number of troubling developments regarding the presence of Syrian refugees, with leading politicians heightening calls for the return of refugees to Syria and making unfounded accusations of an international conspiracy to settle them in Lebanon.

As countries around the world have turned their backs on refugees, Lebanon is hosting an estimated 1.5 million Syrians, by far the highest number of refugees per capita in the world. At the Friends of Syria donor conference in Brussels in April, Lebanon made important commitments to refugee rights, including on residency status, education, legal protection, and nonrefoulement—the prohibition on returning people to places where they are in danger. These could have a real and positive impact on the lives of Syrians in Lebanon—if they are  carried out. But since then, things have taken a turn for the worse.

Following Brussels, Lebanon’s president, speaker of parliament, and foreign minister slammed a joint EU-UN statement that mentioned a “choice to stay,” saying that it suggested permanent settlement in Lebanon. But that phrase was part of a recommendation that only related to people displaced within Syria, not to refugees in Lebanon.

Just after Lebanon recommitted in Brussels to not forcibly returning refugees, politicians turned up the volume for their return. Although not calling outright for forced returns, President Michel Aoun said he would seek a refugee “solution” without the UN. He also called on the United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia, and Egypt to help facilitate refugee returns. The Foreign Ministry, meanwhile, summoned the UN refugee agency’s country representative and accused the agency of scaremongering after UNHCR put out a neutral statement saying it was not involved in the return of 500 refugees to Syria in April.

Most recently the caretaker Foreign Minister Gebran Bassil gave UNHCR two weeks to develop a strategy for refugee returns and alleged that it is trying to discourage returns to Syria. He then froze residency permits for UNHCR staff in Lebanon—without the  government’s backing—accusing UNHCR of hindering the return of Syrian refugees by “spreading fear.”

Bassil claimed that by interviewing Syrians prior to their return, UNHCR was causing refugees to fear returning to Syria. But these interviews are part of UNHCR’s core mandate to protect the rights of refugees and ensure they are aware of the conditions in Syria so they can make an informed choice about whether to return at this time. UNHCR cannot “encourage” or facilitate returns of refugees before it has assessed that conditions in Syria are safe.

The attacks on UNHCR are a troubling escalation of pressure on refugees. Since the beginning of the crisis, Lebanon has generally respected the international prohibition on refoulement, and has—with some exceptions—not forcibly returned refugees to Syria. But while there is no evidence that recent returns of Syrians have been forced, Human Rights Watch found that returns from Arsal last year were not voluntary, but were the result of harsh living conditions, largely as a result of Lebanese policies that have restricted legal residency, work, and freedom of movement.

Refugees who want to return to Syria voluntarily are free to do so. But under international law, Lebanon cannot force or coerce refugees or asylum seekers who have a well-founded fear of persecution in Syria to return. Lebanese politicians have claimed that areas in Syria are “safe,” but this ignores the volatile nature of the Syrian conflict, in which more than 900,000 people have been displaced within Syria in the first four months of 2018 alone.

And aside from generalized conflict, many refugees fear arrest, torture, and forced conscription if they return. These fears are well founded. Human Rights Watch has for years documented widespread patterns of arbitrary detention, torture, and deaths in Syrian government custody. If Lebanese politicians are so eager for refugees to return, they should stop using UNHCR as a scapegoat and focus their efforts to addressing the real barriers to  return, including Syria’s unlawful detention practices and the government’s use of urban planning laws to seize private property without due process or compensation.

Lebanese politicians have justified these calls for return by claiming that Syrians are hurting Lebanon’s economy—arguments made largely without evidence. The presence of Syrians has certainly put a strain on services including waste management, electricity, and education, but these services have also been bolstered with international aid in response to the crisis. And while the war in Syria has certainly taken a toll on Lebanon’s economy, there is little concrete evidence that the presence of refugees has done the same. Meanwhile, refugees contribute to Lebanon’s economy, paying for rent, phone bills, and shopping in Lebanese stores—aside from the billions of dollars in humanitarian aid to Lebanon.

But despite aid to Lebanon, the international community’s striking failure to resettle meaningful numbers of refugees has contributed to the crisis here. Syrian refugee admissions to the US have dropped almost to zero. The European Union is still hiding behind the EU-Turkey deal  to keep refugees out of Europe.

There is an urgent need for a fact-based discussion around the issue of refugees in Lebanon. The government should keep the commitments it made in Brussels and end attacks on the international community and baseless speculation about an international plan to settle refugees in Lebanon. Meanwhile, the international community should step up both humanitarian aid and resettlement of refugees to demonstrate that Lebanon has not been abandoned to bear this burden on its own.

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EditorialOpinion

Trickle down trash

by Yasser Akkaoui
written by Yasser Akkaoui

The destructive nature of the Lebanese never ceases to bewilder. While we claim to be the most civilized nation in the Levant, we have managed to slowly hollow out our mountains, toxify our rivers, turn our seaside into landfills, and contaminate our air with heavy metals and cancerous fumes—and we do not even care. With perennially selective vision, we turn a blind eye to the floating decapitated cows’ heads, human feces, and plastics, and just dive straight in among them.

To observe this willful blindness, all one needs to do is go and watch our fishermen on Beirut’s Corniche reeling in their dinner from the murky sewer water. These images rightly belong to far less developed nations, but now this reality is ours.

There has been a stunning degradation in our civil behavior. While Lebanese brag about how clean their homes are, they have total disregard for anything beyond their doorstep.

Why would they care? Successive governments have failed to develop policies, strategies, or indeed any plan that will preserve the only truly valuable national asset that we have—our nature. These same government officials are the first to acquire licenses to chew up our mountains, or bicker over garbage contracts to fatten their pockets while they tan in ostentatious villas built on public coastal land.

All this did not happen overnight. Ours is a decadent culture contaminated by more than 40 years of increasing ignorance and deteriorating awareness and leadership.

The garbage is up to our necks and it will drown us—unless we open our mouths, taste the scum­­, and renew our calls for an environmental policy that is quickly developed, implemented, and reinforced. One that is free of loopholes, self-interest, and corruption, and one that must make amends for years of contemptible negligence toward our natural environment.

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