In the arena of Lebanese architectural heritage some combatants are better at the game than others. Today activists, archaeologists, politicians and real estate developers have entered the stadium to battle it out over what is probably Lebanon’s oldest sporting venue. At issue is the fate of a Roman-era hippodrome downtown in Wadi Abu Jamil. Unchecked construction and the rush to build mega-sized steel and glass towers have taken a toll on historical sites in the city for nearly 20 years. The hippodrome site is privately owned and most of it has already been developed and built over, but a remaining plot of land in the middle of the former track has become the focus of many interests, all angling for different outcomes.
Some two thousand years ago the hippodrome hosted horse and chariot races. Today, it sits neglected in the heart of Beirut’s rebuilt downtown of exclusive villas and upscale shopping areas. Overgrown with tall grass and littered with garbage from nearby construction sites, it is almost impossible to imagine the hippodrome’s former glory. Assuming that you can get past the heavy security to even approach the site, the hippodrome today is virtually indistinguishable from any other neglected ancient ruins. But in spite of its current state, it has great significance: Lebanon is home to two out of five Roman hippodromes in the Levant — one in Tyre, and its twin in Beirut. The hippodromes of Lebanon are unique because they are the only ones in the world adjacent to Roman baths.
The great irony of the situation is that some of the loudest critics are largely responsible for the current state of the hippodrome. In March, former culture ministers Tamam Salam and Tarek Mitri held a press conference denouncing plans to build over the open remainder of the site. But the sale and development of various plots at the site in the preceding years were approved by both of them. Solidere, the private company in charge of reconstructing Beirut Central District, justified this earlier development using in-house archaeology experts. Development started by moving Roman-era baths to a different location nearby [see map], and progressed to the point where former Prime Minister Saad Hariri built a large private residence and garden squarely on top of the hippodrome.
So tight is the security at the site that current Culture Minster Gaby Layoun and his top advisor, Michel de Chadarevian, were not allowed past the rusty metal walls that have long encircled the area. “I went there with the minister last month and they would not allow us to even have a look,” de Chadarevian says. “We asked Saad Hariri’s office to let us look around, but we were denied access. We are not even allowed in to remove the grass.” Executive was directed by Hariri’s office to Future Movement Members of Parliament Salam and Nabil de Freige for comment, but neither was available for comment.
Build over, preserve under?
After signing off on development of much of the site, in 2009, Salam, then culture minister, placed the hippodrome on a list of protected historical sites, but the damage was already done. An area surrounding the reconstructed Maghen Abraham Synagogue was all that was left and today represents the plot of contention.
According to the culture ministry, the owner of the undeveloped plot, Nazem Ali Ahmed, consulted Italian architects to find a solution that would generate revenue, while also meet the requirement of having the ruins available for public viewing. His solution, while still in the early stages of development, is to construct a roofed, open air museum. The ruins would be viewable underneath thick glass flooring from walkways and landings. A second level would be reserved for retail and commercial space. Its height will be limited by the current regulations laid out by Solidere, the ministry says. Solidere did not respond to repeated requests for comment.
De Chadarevian says that the current plan to preserve the hippodrome is based on similar efforts in Greece to enclose ruins under glass and install modern walkways and viewing areas. He explains to Executive that the ministry is “happy to have an investor interested in creating and building a museum for free. We will not pay anything. He will do everything and we will all benefit.” (There have been unconfirmed media reports of a $30 million Kuwaiti-funded hotel and museum on the plot.)
This plan set off a public outcry from preservationists and archaeologists. Josef Haddad, founding member and current secretary of the Association for the Protection of the Lebanese Heritage, disputes the notion that a glass enclosure would preserve the ruins. “The glass will trap the heat and humidity and accelerate the deterioration of the site,” he says, pointing to the fact that Rome’s ancient ruins are largely out in the open and exposed to the elements. Under the current plan, portions of the ruins downtown, excluding the fragile section that was once spectator seating, will be removed during construction and replaced when the building is complete.
“We are surprised that out of all ministries, the Ministry of Culture is working the hardest to destroy the hippodrome,” Haddad says. “It belongs to the Lebanese people, not private landowners.” Haddad says that he and the Association for the Protection of the Lebanese Heritage “are doing our best to halt the process,” but adds that a real solution can only come from Solidere, Nazem Ali Ahmed, and the culture ministry.
Jeanine Abdul Massih, professor of archaeology at the Lebanese University, does not believe that constructing what would essentially be a shopping mall over the ruins would do the site justice. “If you want to really preserve it you need to take the whole thing, not just a part of it,” she says. “If you only preserve part of it, what do you really have left of this beautiful stadium? You cannot preserve just a part of a stadium to give an idea of what it was like.” Abdul Massih suggests protecting and restoring the entire site, and adding it to a Beirut historical walking trail. “We need to connect the people with the history,” she says.
Little room left to fight
“We are preserving this place — if the ministry could destroy all that Solidere has done in order to regain all of our antiquities, we would be very happy,” de Chadarevian says, striking a somewhat populist tone. In preservationist circles that might normally be a welcome statement, but he does not hide his contempt for activists seeking to reach a new deal for the hippodrome. “All the campaigns on Facebook, this is rubbish,” he says. “I asked them, ‘do you know what this is? Have you ever gone there and had a look around?’ No, they have not. So why are they even talking about this?”
According to de Chadarevian, the root of the problem is the location of Hariri’s home, and his former cabinet members using their influence to steer development deals. “The only problem is that new construction will block the view from Saad Hariri’s residence,” he claims, and points blame squarely at the two previous culture ministers: “[Tarek Mitri and Tamam Salam] agreed to destroy what remained of the hippodrome years ago.” Several members of Hariri’s Future Movement have rejected this claim.
Professor Abdul Massih suggests a land swap between the Beirut municipality and Nazem Ali Ahmed could resolve the dispute and come as close to satisfying all parties as possible. But the prime location of the hippodrome means this is a highly unlikely outcome. The current construction plan for the hippodrome site has top-down blessing, from Prime Minister Najib Mikati to the Ministry of Culture, as well as Solidere and the Beirut Municipality. Now, the municipality’s final approval of the building plans is all that stands in the way of commercial development at the hippodrome site. [No one from the Beirut Municipality was available for comment].
For those seeking full preservation, the overall outlook is grim. It is also nothing new, says Abdul Massih. “So many other beautiful things here have been destroyed, so nothing would surprise me,” she says. “But I will fight to preserve it.”
