Remaking Beirut Contesting Memory, Space

Remaking Beirut: Contesting Memory, Space,
and the Urban Imaginary of Lebanese Youth

Craig Larkin
University of Exeter
Throughout the centuries Beirut has had an endless capacity for reinvention and
transformation, a consequence of migration, conquest, trade, and internal conflict.
The last three decades have witnessed the city centers violent self-destruction, its
commercial resurrection, and most recently its national contestation, as oppositional political forces have sought to mobilize mass demonstrations and occupy
strategic space. While research has been directed to the transformative processes
and the principal actors involved, little attention has been given to how the next
generation of Lebanese are negotiating Beiruts rehabilitation. This article seeks
to address this lacuna, by exploring how postwar youth remember, imagine, and
spatially encounter their city. How does Beiruts rebuilt urban landscape, with its
remnants of war, sites of displacement, and transformed environs, affect and inform identity, social interaction, and perceptions of the past? Drawing on Henri
Lefebvres analysis of the social construction of space (perceived, conceived, and
lived) and probing the inherent tensions within postwar youths encounters with
history, memory, and heritage, the article presents a dynamic and complex urban
imaginary of Beirut. An examination of key urban sites (Solidères Down Town)
and significant temporal moments (Independence Intifada) reveals three recurring tensions evident in Lebanese youths engagement with their city: dislocation
and liberation, spectacle and participant, pluralism and fracture. This article seeks
to encourage wider discussion on the nature of postwar recovery and the construction of rehabilitated public space, amidst the backdrop of global consumerism and
heritage campaigns.
INTRODUCTION
The music evoked Beiruts Golden Age. . .Marwans voice burned with anger.
I hate the way they are demolishing the old centre and plonking down a new rootless, soulless ghost town with only a handful of old buildings preserved. Ignorant
arrogant assholes! What do they think theyre doing? We need to continue the
Correspondence
should be addressed to Craig Larkin, Department of Politics, Amory Building, Rennes Drive,
Exeter, EX4 4RJ; c.larkin@exeter.ac.uk.
An earlier draft of this article was first presented at the June 2008 CRASH Conference, The Culture of Reconstruction: Interdisciplinary Perspectives on the Aftermath of Crisis, at the University of Cambridge, and
then at the Conflict in Cities International WorkshopJerusalem and Other Contested CitiesNotre Dame,
Jerusalem, January 1012, 2010. I thank the participants of both conferences for their questions and comments
and the anonymous referees of City & Community for their constructive criticism and guidance. I am also indebted to the Lebanese students who generously allowed me to interview them. Finally, I thank Conflict in
Cities and the Contested State, funded by the Economic and Social Research Council (RES-060-25-0015).
City & Community 9:4 December 2010

doi: 10.1111/j.1540-6040.2010.01346.x
C 2010 American Sociological Association, 1430 K Street NW, Washington, DC 20005
"
414
REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

country, not reinvent it. Every single fallen stone should come back to its place. We
should rebuild the souks, restore the crumbling buildingspreserve the essence of
a city thats been there at least five thousand years.
The Last Migration, Jad el Hage, 2002.
Beiruts endless capacity for reinvention and transformation is best observed in its city
center. This pivotal district has known as many labels and urban forms as it has historic
lives. The medieval bourj, Ottoman provincial port, French colonial Place des Canons,
independent Martyrs Square (Sahat al-Shuhada) have finally been succeeded by an ultramodern global cityscape. This most recent reimagining, a consequence of 15 years of
devastating civil violence and self-destruction (19751990), preceded by 15 years of futuristic urban landscaping,1 has become both a symbol of Lebanons national recovery and
an object of postwar critique. Beiruts commercial resurrection and deliberate rebranding as a leading Arab metropolis and dreamscape of visual consumption has stirred fierce
debates and contests over the nature and scope of urban reconstruction in the aftermath of conflict (Kassir, 2003; Nagel, 2000, 2002; Sarkis and Rowe, 1998; Sawalha, 2010).
These frictions have been further compounded by the resurgence of sporadic violence2
and popular mobilization, which has transformed the Down Town into a strategic battleground between rival political coalitions over competing national visionsdemonstrated
by mass demonstrations, rallies, and tent protests (March 14 Freedom Tent and the
Hizbullah led Tent City). While Beirut may once again be a city in transition, its future
is invariably tied to an ongoing negotiation of its past.
This article seeks to explore this process by examining the contradictory impulses of
remembering and forgetting, erasure and recovery in the context of a postwar city. In
a sense the focus is less concerned with global memory debates over justice, reconciliation, and truth (Nora, 2001; Ricoeur, 2004) but rather local encounters and resistance
to the restructuring of urban space (de Certeau, 1988; Soja, 1989). I hope to contribute
to the growing debate concerning Beiruts rehabilitation, both on the level of its physical restoration and its national collective reimagining. Beyond discourses that problematize the citys social amnesia (Hanssen and Genberg, 2002), historical myopia (SMakdisi,
1997), nostalgic longing (Khalaf, 2006), and management of cultural heritage (Fricke,
2005), there is a need to understand how the next generation of Lebanese is negotiating Beirut. How do postwar youth remember, imagine, and spatially encounter their city?
How does Beiruts rebuilt urban landscape, with its remnants of war, sites of displacement,
and transformed environs affect and inform identity, social interaction, and perceptions
of the past?
The choice of Beirut as a case study stems from the fact that it has become perhaps
the worlds largest laboratory for post-war reconstruction (Charlesworth, 2006:54), subject to the globalizing forces of consumerism, privatization, and regulation (Davis, 1990),
the regional impulses toward Dubiazation led by Arab Gulf real estate conglomerates
(el Sheshtawy, 2008), and architectural attempts to promote the reunification of the
Lebanese people (Traoui, 2002:9). The focus on Lebanese youth is both in response to
the lack of previous academic research and an attempt to observe and evaluate how postwar spaces and sites are inhabited and inscribed with meaning, across generations (Friedland and Hect, 2006; Makdisi and Silverstein, 2006). Previous analytical approaches to
young people and urban spaces have observed both the marginalization of youth (Davis,
415
CITY & COMMUNITY

1990; Sibley, 1995; White, 1990) and young peoples role in subverting and constructing
spatial/social order (Hil and Bessant, 1999; Robinson, 2000). This dialectic is certainly
evident in Beiruts city center although it is questionable how much power Lebanese
youth have to resist and contest the elitist cityscape and construct alternative spaces. The
alienation of Lebanese youth from the city center, while reflecting global urban trends
(Tienda and Wilson, 2002), presents a more worrying reality in a city still struggling to
recover public spaces and still fractured by sectarian symbols, political divides, and geographies of exclusion/inclusion. This article seeks to probe how urban marginalization
is linked to broader processes of postwar dislocation and liminality.
In addressing the overlapping themes of space/memory/identity I will draw on French
sociologist Henri Lefebvres (1974/1991) concept of three interconnecting modes of socially produced space: the perceived, the conceived, and the lived. The first space is a
product of human design, urban planning, and spatial organization. The conceived by
contrast contains the abstract, the imagined space, as well as the visual order, signs, and
codes of the city, dominated by political rulers, planners, and economic interests. Finally,
lived space describes how people inhabit everyday life, the way they create their city as
users through practices, images, and symbols (Hanssen, 2005). While Lefebvres framework is a useful starting point to desegregate the multiple layers of discourse, ideology,
and practice that have shaped Down Town Beiruts construction and imagining, it is crucial also to explore the citys urban spaces of uncertainty (Cupers and Meissen, 2002:
152), which defy functional reduction but rather are hybrid, fragmented, and unstable,
emerging from encounters and confrontations between people.
Finally, any analysis of Beiruts posttraumatic landscape must take account of the citys
immaterial sites, spaces, and absences, which shape the territory of the imagination and
mediate daily urban encounters. As Friedland and Hecht (2006:35) suggest, material
and immaterial sites are bound together by the invisible bonds of memory, memory
which is not regression to the past, but a progression from past into present into future. . . . Central places, holy places and sacred places and memory places are those placement where everyone remembers, if only remembers that something has been forgotten
and cannot be remembered what it is. Huyssen (2008:3) explains this mnemonic process as the construction of an everyday urban imaginarythe cognitive and somatic image
which we carry within us of the places where we live, work, and play. It is an embodied material fact. Urban imaginaries are thus part of any citys reality rather than only figments
of the imagination. What we think about a city and how we perceive it informs the ways we
act in it. Urban imaginaries transform and are transformed by global and local encounters with capitalism, modernity, power, and globalization. Such a dynamic negotiation of
space and placeimagined and lived, materially and immaterially reconstructed, monumentalized, and in fluxoffers an insightful framework for examining how Lebanese
youth navigate Beiruts contested sites and rehabilitated center.
METHODS
My observations primarily emerge from extensive anthropological field work, involving

over a hundred in-depth interviews with Lebanese high school and university students3
conducted in the summer of 2005 to the summer of 2006 in the aftermath of the March
8 and March 14 popular mobilizations. Various titles and prescriptive labels have been
given to the period between February 2005 and May 2005 in which protest, euphoria,
416

and popular mobilization followed the assassination of former Prime Minister Rafik alHariri. Among supporters of an emerging March 14 Alliance, led by Saad Hariri (Future
Movement), Samir Geagea (Lebanese Forces), and Walid Jumblatt (Progressive Socialist
Party), it was commonly known as Independence 05 or the Independence Intifada
(intifadat al-istiqlal); in the West it became dubbed the Cedar Revolution or the Beirut
Spring. While this period witnessed seismic social shifts and political realignments
from high profile assassinations to mass protests, the resignation of Karamis government
to the withdrawal of Syrian troops after a 30-year presenceit also provided an opportune moment to examine the fears, hopes, and disenchantment of Beiruti youth and
their encounters with their urban surroundings (Corm, 2005). Students were selected,
using a combination of random sampling and snowballing techniques, from 10 different educational institutions throughout Lebanon. Given the sensitive nature of representation and proportionality in Lebanon, a country of 18 politically recognized religious
sects governed by a rigid system of confessional power-sharing,4 my sample attempted to
reflect Lebanons rich and diverse religious composition and its social, economic, and
geographical divides. Therefore 33 percent of students were from a Christian confessional background, 26 percent were Shii, 24 percent were Sunni, 13 percent were Druze,
and a few were from the resident minority communities: Armenian and Palestinian. Students were chosen from a varied range of schools and universitiespublic/private, secular/religious, and rural/urban; with interviewees coming from Beirut, its surrounding
suburbs and farther regions such as the South, the Bekka, Tripoli and the coast, the
Shouf, and Metn Mountains. It can be difficult to delineate exactly Lebanese residency
due to the high levels of displacement, mobility, and the ever-increasing expansion of
Beiruts suburbs. Students often referred to their family village, prewar district, or current
home depending on the context and nature of the discussion. In an attempt to obtain
an interview sample that reflected the full spectrum of Lebanese society, family names,
residency, political affiliations, economic background, and religious confession informed
the selection process.5
Interviews were conducted within school settings for High school students, while University students were given the freedom to choose a place they felt most comfortable with.
The interview process was semistructured and openended, allowing themes and stories to
emerge naturally. Arabic and English were used interchangeably depending on the context and fluency of the student. These youth, ranging between 15 and 22 years old, are
a generation without personal recollection of the conflict but with vicarious memories
passed on by their parents, communities, and localities. In a sense this is a residual, transgenerational Postmemory (Hirsch, 2008, 1997) that both connects and reimagines the
past, according to present needs and social contexts.6 I also make use of site observations
(20012004, 2007) that derive from time living in the region and observing conflict resolution groups, forums, peace conferences, and everyday experiences. The article draws
on a variety of secondary sources including journal articles, newspapers (Arabic dailies),
NGO reports, and internet sources.
The article comprises three parts: the first will briefly consider Beiruts official reconstruction process; the second part examines how Lebanese youth conceive Down Town
Beirut in terms of war memory, heritage, and nostalgia. The final part will explore their
spatial practice and physical engagement with the city in terms of dislocation and liberation; spectacle and participation; and plurality and fracture.
417
CITY & COMMUNITY

ERASE AND REWIND: BEIRUT, THE ANCIENT CITY OF THE FUTURE7
Beiruts dynamism is invariably born out of Lebanons troubled historic past and its disputed national imagining: a mountain refuge for religious minorities (Druze, Shii, Maronites); a forged compromise of colonial powers and indigenous elites; a republic of
tribes and villages; a cosmopolitan mercantile power-sharing enclave; a playground for
the rich; a battleground for religious and political ideologies; a fusion and combustion
of the Arab East and the Christian West; an improbable, precarious, fragmented, shattered, torn8 nation. The dichotomies and visions appear as endless and complex as the
Lebanese experience itself. Certainly, it helps explain the ambiguous and contested place
Beirut has always held in the collective understanding, whether under regional domination or subject to Western colonial influence. Lebanons gradual emergence as a statea
consequence of Ottoman governance (Mutasarrifiyya era 18601914), French mandatory rule (19201943), and the movement for national Independence in 1943has often
been overshadowed by the recurrence of internal civil violence1820, 18601864, 1958,
and 19751990. The most recent and devastating of these internecine conflicts (1975
1990) claimed an estimated 170,000 lives, displaced two-thirds of the population, and
resulted in the descent into militia rule and Syrian and Israeli armed intervention (Hanf,
1993; Khalaf, 2002).
Throughout this turbulent period of prolonged war, Beiruts central district was both
the epicenter of its fiercest violence and the focus of the most concerted reconstruction
plans. While ongoing militia battles transformed Beiruts streets, buildings, and public
markets into a scene from an apocalyptic nightmare, planners, architects, and politicians
debated visions of the citys postwar recovery. The Council for Development and Reconstruction (CDR) was established in 1977 to plan and administer all of Lebanons postwar
reconstruction works. The CDR commissioned the first master-plan for the Down Town,
produced by a French firm LAtelier Parisien dUrbanisme (APUR) in 1977, followed by
Dar al-Handassas proposal in 1983. After a continuation of hostilities, a 1986 joint plan
(CDR and APUR) was suggested, which would broaden Beiruts rehabilitation to include
the entire metropolitan district. However, with a national peace agreement (Taif Accord)
finalized in 1990, this was swiftly followed by the creation of Solidère,9 a private Lebanese
company, founded by millionaire politician Rafik al-Hariri and exclusively entrusted with
the reconstruction and development of Beiruts central district. Solidères legal mandate
was provided in 1991 through an amendment (Law 117) to the 1977 planning legislation, controversially enabling the Company to expropriate land and property of existing
owners, who were to receive shares in Solidère stock in return.10 Throughout the early
nineties, Solidère cleared the way for its ambitious master plan by systematically razing the
war-damaged urban fabric, creating a virtual tabula rasa at the heart of the city. Lebanese
academic Saree Makdisi suggests that by 1993, as much as 80 percent of all the structures in the Down Town were damaged beyond repair, yet only a third of this destruction
was war-inflicted (1997:674). This campaign of structural erasure, coupled with the displacement and dispossession of an estimated 2,600 families, owners, and tenants, earned
Rafik Hariri the dubious appellation among some Beirutis as ammar hajar wa dammar
basher 11 he who built the stones and destroyed the people.
Solidères 30-year Master plan (19942024) incorporates 472 acres: a third of which
is reclaimed land, 175 acres that are allocated for new developments, such as a marina,
418
FIG. 1. A commercial boulevard leading to Nejmeh Square at the heart of Beiruts Down Town.
hotels, and global commerce, and only 54 acres (including 265 key structures) of which
are part of Beiruts original urban fabric. This partially completed project envisions a
global, tourist friendly, cosmopolitan Beirut, which draws on the Lebanese traditions of
commerce, pluralism, and innovation. Yet Solidères concept of Beirut reborn, as a
veritable layered city of memory in which the past informs the future,12 appears remarkably selective in the history it reproduces and the memory it evokes. Ancient Beirut
is celebrated through the recent excavation and display of Roman baths, Cardo Maximus, and Canaanite Tell, while a heritage trail weaves from manicured Mosques and
Churches to beautifully restored Ottoman buildings and French colonial promenades
(Figure 1). Consequently, the remnants of a traumatic and debilitating violent struggle
have all but been erased, and replaced instead with an appeal to a more glorious, illustrious, and heroic past.
Solidères postwar reconstruction of Beirut has generated considerable public debate,
academic criticism, and civic activism aimed at confronting political nepotism, challenging models of urban planning, and reclaiming Beiruts lost and ever-endangered heritage. This first critical discourse that focuses on political corruption invariably involves
the role and influence of former Lebanese Prime Minister and leading Solidère shareholder Rafik Hariri. Hariris ascendancy to political office in 1992, which coincided with
Solidères reconstruction project, raised many questions over a possible conflict of private
419
CITY & COMMUNITY

and public interests. These fears were further substantiated by government exemptions
for Solidère totaling $1 billion; the passing of new legislation to aid commercial exploitation of national resources (Beiruts coast line); and the proliferation of legal suits by original tenants and landowners accusing Solidère of bribing judges, undervaluing shares, and
intimidating existing property holders.13 Saree Makdisi terms the process Harirism, the
decisive withering of the State and common public space and the supremacy of private
commercial interest and control. He comments,
For, to be sure, where state projects end and private projects begin can no longer
be determinednot because this is a strong state that is organizing a command
economy but because capital has become the state. State and capital have become
incorporated as one and the same force or process defined by the same discourse
Harirism. (1997: 698)
Such sentiments are indeed difficult to dispute, given that while Lebanons national debt
rocketed from $1.5 billion in 1992 to a colossal 32 billion in 2003, Hariris personal fortune is estimated to have tripled during the same period. Resistance to Solidères coercive power has most visibly taken the form of a Stop Solidère campaign, headed by local
lawyer Muhamad Mugraby, who seeks a return of Beiruts national center to its original
landowners. This group has sought to confront Solidère through legal cases, public discussions, and the use of giant posters in sites of ongoing controversy, such as St. Georges
Hotel and Beach Club, urging the general public to resist and Stop Solidère! As Mugraby explains, in an interview with the Lebanese Daily Star newspaper, In my opinion
Solidère is a Lebanese form of vigilantism under the colour of the law. It violates the
constitution, which prohibits the confiscation of property without prompt compensation
and only for the public good.14
The second critical discourse of Beiruts postwar reconstruction has emerged around
the broader architectural debate concerning global urbanism and use of public space in
cities (Boyer, 1993, Madanipour, 2000). Planners and urban theorists have increasingly
questioned the neo-liberal model, in which city space becomes an arena for marketoriented economic growth and elite consumption practices, thus stripping the public
sphere of its social and political dimension. Local Lebanese architects, such as Hashim
Sarkis (1998), have similarly warned against Solidères dangerous trend toward privatization, commodification, and commercialization of Beiruts rebuilt center. As Jamal Abed,
Professor of architecture at American University of Beirut (AUB), explains:
The Private company of Solidère, in its attempt to work for the profit-orientated
interests of its shareholders, will inevitably create private preserves for the wealthy
that are then transformed into public amenities by allowing a select group of
people to stroll unimpeded along its corridors and spaces of power. (1999: 53)
Such concerns are also echoed by newly emerging civil society groups, NGOs, and activists, such as Archis, Partizan public, and Beirutstudio, who seek to challenge Solidères
hegemonic and totalizing vision for the Down Town. These groups jointly sponsored an
international workshop in August 2008, entitled Rescripting Beirut, which sought to
draw together architects, designers, urbanists, and sociologists, in an alternative exploration of a city lacking in spatial history but rich in untold narratives.15 Yet resistance has
420

also taken less formal and spontaneous forms; from impromptu concerts, exhibitions,
street drama, and art installations, often housed in temporary tents or utilizing the remaining war damaged buildings in stark contrast to Solidères Glamor Zone (Sassen,
1999).
The final and perhaps most pervasive critique of Solidères reconstruction project has
been the emergence of memory initiatives aimed at confronting a perceived culture of
forgetfulness, and seeking instead to preserve Beiruts war torn fabric and recover local
histories and communal narratives. This heritage crusade (Lowenthal, 1998; Khalaf,
2006:35), based on nostalgic longings and impulsive reaction to the erosion of familiar
landmarks and icons, has resulted in a variety of responses, such as environmental advocacy groups, workshops on postwar reconstruction, story-telling, and the increase in
novels and autobiographies recalling past times, places, and experiences.
Specific interventions include Bernard Khourys plans to renovate a disused central
Beirut theatre16 , preserving its bullet holes and crumbling plaster as a symbol of the
citys tempestuous political history.17 Studio Beiruts The Lost Room project alternatively offers a multimedia memorial, highlighting city-specific memories and personal
narratives of random Beiruti citizens.18 Also the activist group, Abrand, has sought to
challenge the repackaging of Lebanese heritage and tradition through subversive posters
that mock the process of global branding. One image shows the familiar Beirut Corniche
promenade, which serves as a public space for evening walks, exercise, and socializing,
transformed into an elite exclusive setting. Rather than a street vendor selling cheap
Kaake (a bread snack) from his three wheeled wooden cart, instead it is covered with
a pristine white table-cloth, adorned with vintage wines and spirits and surrounded by
Lebanese elegantly dressed in formal evening attire. The criticism is implicitly aimed toward the gentrification of Lebanese public space. A second poster displays a traditional
Lebanese dish of stuffed aubergine, Koussa Mehchi, transformed and masqueraded as
Japanese Sushi, complete with chopsticks, carved vegetables, and a wooden serving dish
(Figure 2). This poster is a veiled warning against Lebanon losing its very soul, identity,
and cultural uniqueness in its desire to commodify and market its heritage (al-turath). It
is important to note that the concept of urban authenticity can serve disparate agendas
and interests, particularly during uncertain times. As Sawalha (2010:43) affirms in her
anthropological survey of postwar Beirut neighborhoods, for many of the citys inhabitants the past was idealized as a refuge from an unpredictable future. They turned to a
familiar past that was far from the unpleasant present and the unknown future. Zukin
(2010), in her study of New York, Naked City: The Death and Life of Authentic Urban Spaces,
observes authenticity as both a discursive device to legitimate gentrifying redevelopment plansthe recovery of the original cityand simultaneously a potential weapon
for urban resistance and survival. She notes, authenticity is a cultural form of power over
space, a tool to control not just the look but the use of real urban places: neighbourhoods, parks, community gardens, shopping streets; yet it also can be evoked as a central
tenet of social preservationa cultural right to make a permanent home in the city for
all people to live and work (Zukin 2010: xiii).
The critical discourses surrounding Solidère interventions undoubtedly inform the
Lebanese general publics response to Beiruts reconstruction, yet it is questionable
whether they fully represent or reveal the complexity of this engagement. A balanced
reading of Solidère accomplishments must acknowledge the professionalization of the
companyfrom planning, design, marketing, and managementwhich has made it a
421
CITY & COMMUNITY
FIG. 2. Abrand poster on an Ashrafieh wall mocking the process of global branding.
model for regional redevelopment19 and a potent symbol of Lebanons reemergence

as a vanguard of modernity in the Middle East (Nasr and Verdeil, 2008). Its achievements must also be measured against the backdrop of fractious postwar politics, the lack
of an independent and definable government reconstruction agency (Charlesworth,
2006:82), and the stasis in Beiruts two other redevelopment projectsElyssar targeting
the Southern Beirut suburbs and Linord focusing on the East coast and the Metn-Nord
landfill (Harb, 1998, 2001; Nasr and Verdeil, 2008). The strongest argument supporting
Solidères redeveloped Down Town remains perhaps its most contentiousthe financial
and commercial prosperity generated (particularly for Solidère investors and stakeholders) by the dramatic rise in international and Arab tourism. In 2009 over two million
tourists visited Lebanon contributing around $7 billion to the economy that is a fifth
of Lebanons GDP. These numbers were 39 percent higher than the previous year and
the leading tourist growth rate world-wide.20 Yet despite these impressive figures questions still remain over the viability and longevity of Solidères laissez-faire consumerist
cityscape given Lebanons political fragility and the scope of its unequal and imbalanced
recovery. As Nasr (2003: 156157) insightfully comments, An apparently thriving leisure,
food, entertainment and luxury-shopping sector, living of a minority of wealthy Lebanese
or vacationers and shoppers from the Gulf cannot hide the fundamental crisis in the real
economy, the steady decline in the quality of education, the limited amount of job creation, the high cost of the local factors of production, the continuing deterioration of the
422

environment, the scarcity of investment opportunities or the burden of the public debt.
Beyond the ongoing debates between Lebanese scholars, architects, privileged elites, and
cultural producers, I want to turn to the perceptions of Lebanese youth and how they are
conceiving Beirut.
(RE)IMAGINING THE CENTER: WAR MEMORY, HERITAGE, AND NOSTALGIA

Among the Lebanese youth I interviewed, Beiruts reconstructed Down Town exists more
as a site of imaginative and emotive investment than a place of actual lived experience.
Few of the hundred high school and university students regularly frequent the commercial district or are very familiar with its refurbished streets. Yet for each, the center
still evokes family stories, distant memories, and the hopes and anxieties of Lebanons
national future. As Beirut-based journalist Ciezadlo (2007) affirms, the Down Town is
where all the fears and fantasies about this little country have always converged.
For many students, Beiruts vacant center represents not only a physical symbol of
Lebanons lost past, but a blank screen on which diverse memories and narratives can
be projected. Diana, a 20-year-old Druze student from the private Lebanese American
University (LAU), explains, the Down Town always reminded us of our loss, it was like
having a city without a soul. . .interestingly I dont even remember what it used to be like,
but I know that people believe in this area.21 For Diana, the absence is equated with
personal loss and spiritless existence; although disconnected to the past visually, she is
united through imaginative investment and the inspirational faith of others. Lama, a 16year-old Sunni student from the Beirut suburb of Moseitbeh, focuses on a former family
home, an elaborate Ottoman-type villa, in the Zokak elBlatt neighborhood of central
Beirut. The house, according to Lama, was destroyed by militia guns, occupied by illegal squatters, flattened by Solidère and rebuilt as an office block. Lamas sense of loss
is sustained by her ability to mentally reconstruct the villas ruined shell and war torn
edificesuspended in time and perpetually existing in her mind. The building she imagines forms part of an effaced past but a very real present. Other students recount parents
and grandparents nostalgic tales of Beiruts prewar days of markets (souks), cafes, and
popular entertainment, romanticized tales of a cosmopolitan meeting place for all religions and every class. In the absence of actual-lived experience, these narrative accounts
form part of the reimagining process, providing the next generation with a comparative
framework in which to critique Solidères contemporary work.
For youth who have grown up alongside Beiruts reconstruction project it is the very act
of transformation itself that has raised the specter of war and stirred debate over issues
such as memory, history, and architectural vision. Just as the hostile destruction of buildings can be an attempt to obliterate the past, rebuilding on top of ruins can be an attempt
to negate tragic memory. Adrian Forty refers to this process as Counter-Iconoclasm, which
involves remaking something in order to forget what its absence signified (1999:10).
This process has been vigorously pursued by Israeli authorities in occupied East Jerusalem
as highlighted by Shlay and Rosen in their article on the shifting green line in Jerusalem.
The purpose behind such a policy is not only the extension of Israeli sovereignty and
control in the city but the inscription of new collective meanings, memories, and identities associated with the place (Shlay and Rosen, 2010:4). Within the Lebanese context,
Solidères intention may have been to structurally cleanse all memory of the civil violence
423
CITY & COMMUNITY

from Beiruts center, but it has not been the consequence. As17-year-old Hanan22 from
Ras Beirut explains:
Down Town is always the main focus of the past, because it was transformed and
they always show you how it was and what its like now. . .every time we are in the
Down Town, we remember the war, we remember the past and some places still look
the same.
In Hanans mind Beiruts rehabilitation is invariably tied to its war time destruction; the
center-ville fuses parallel time frames, the new reality invoking and recalling the previous degradation. Indeed, juxtaposed images of the Down Town, before and after, have
flooded the public domain in the form of photographic anthologies, television programs,
exhibitions, and numerous books.23
Despite this mnemonic connection to Beiruts former degradation, students remain
largely divided over how the visual traces of conflict should be incorporated within the
citys rebuilt form. Some favor total erasure, believing forgetfulness to be both a remedy for the trauma and suffering of war and the only guarantee for a peaceful future
co-existence. In the words of 17-year-old Rima from Aley, a mountain village overlooking Beirut, Perhaps the answer is amnesia, if everyone forgets what happened and then
they move on.24 Other students are less comfortable with Beiruts polished and highly
selective historical narrative reflected in its showcase center that abnegates the lived experience of conflict. As Yasmine, a student of the American University of Beirut, from
Mar Elias, suggests, the redevelopment involved a covering or hiding of the memory of
war, and in this sense its unreal. You cant just talk of Romans and Phoenicians and our
great heritage, without mentioning about militias, kidnapping and bombs.25 Historian
David Lowenthal explains this tension as the danger of history, with its claim to truth, being supplanted by heritage, and its prejudiced pride in the past (1998:524). In Beirut,
perhaps this imbalance will be addressed through the construction of a war museum, a
national memorial, or the preservation of some of the citys warchitecture.
A good example of this process at work is the controversial planned restoration of
the Barakat building in Sodeco, a former militia sniper stronghold, which once dissected Beiruts Christian East and Muslim West. This infamous classical yellow building,
its bullet-riddled walls and gaping voids testifying to countless battles, is now earmarked
to become Lebanons first war museum or rather Beiruts museum of municipal history,
Bayt al-Madina, the City House. For Mona Hallak, the leading activist behind the 11-year
conservation campaign, the building is an important testament of the war: this is a monument produced by the war and it should stay as such.26 Its restoration should provide
a place for meeting and reconciliation, a space for Memory so as not to be swept up
by amnesia.27 Despite Beirut municipalitys 2012 timeframe to redeem and rehabilitate
the building, many students I interviewed remained highly skeptical of the project. Their
responses varied from total rejectionits exclusively a Christian Lebanese Forces symbol of death; it is still too sensitive! How many innocent people were shot from those
windows?to poignant realismmaybe they should just leave the shell, the image is
powerful enough; we dont need to know what happened inside. Ghassan, a 22-year-old
Maronite student from Bhamdoun, dismissed the project out of hand: its an exploitative attempt to cash in on Beiruts violent past. Probably we will be running civil war tours
soon, with free militia t-shirts and baseball caps.28
424

Such cynicism captures the post-war disillusionment and disenchantment of Lebanese
youth (Hanf, 2003), yet it is a further critique of the uneasy symbiosis between political
violence, reconstruction, and Lebanese commercialism. The Barakat building, while initially draped with a life size image of the original untarnished edifice, was soon joined
in the summer of 2007 with an equally proportioned Nescafe advertisement mimicking
the political buzzwordUNITE only this time under the banner of Coffee CreamerSugar Perfect Harmony. Similarly, during the Israeli-Lebanese war of 2006 many consumer brands sought to address the conflict through billboard campaigns encouraging
national resilience. The Johnny Walker whisky brands Keep Walking slogan and figurine was transposed over a broken Lebanese bridge.29 Volkswagen produced an image
of one of their compact car designs and a map of Lebanon under the punch-line Small
but Tough. Lebanon provides fertile ground for a further exploration of the art of war
advertising or the marketing of postwar recovery.
Finally, many students are yet to be convinced of the positive didactic function of
Beiruts negative heritage (Meskell, 2002), warning of the danger of memorializing
shame, pain, and victimization. They appear to favor less visible, more ambiguous forms
of remembrance, such as the bullet scarred Martyrs Memorial statue, situated in the
citys central square. The disfigured sculpture, originally a memorial to those killed in
the struggle for Independence from Ottoman rule, now has become an unintentional national emblem, capturing both the shared suffering of conflict and yet the resilience and
endurance endemic to the Lebanese spirit. As one student explains, its significance lies
in its inclusive ambiguity, which enables everyone to imagine their own story and allows
for multiple interpretations of the war (Figure 3). In this sense the sculpture functions
as a polysemic cultural artifact; much like Nir Gazit analysis of the Jerusalem newspaper
Kol Hair it has the power to elicit relative consensus on the core issues it embodies yet
still sustains a diversity of interpretations. Interestingly, the memorial is accompanied by
no plaque or commentary, and again highlights a postwar tendency that seems to favor
visual representation over the more complex and contested narrative form. This impulse
toward a plural, differential, and critical remembrance of the past, some social commentators suggest, is best found through the safety of visual ambiguity and embracing diversity, rather than forging an artificial totalizing memorial. As John R. Gillis (1994, p. 20)
acutely warns,
[D]emocratic societies need to publicize rather than privatize the memories and
identities of all groups, so that each may know and respect the others version of
the past, thereby understanding better what divides as well as unites us. In this era
of plural identities, we need civil times and civil spaces more than ever, for these
are essential to the democratic processes by which individuals and groups come
together to discuss, debate, and negotiate the past, and, through this process, define
the future.
Other students instead question the relevance of commemorating historic war memorials in light of Lebanons ongoing political violence and public assassinations, such as
the 2006 car bomb attacks that killed leading Lebanese politicians and popular journalists. As Fares, a 22-year-old middle-class Druze medical student living in Hamra, astutely
explains,
425
CITY & COMMUNITY
FIG. 3. Martyrs memorial statue, in the center of Beiruts Martyrs Square.
There is no need to remember Lebanons past crimes and conflictswhen there is

plenty to worry about today! Martyrs Square will always have its fallen. New figures
simply replace the oldHariri, the architect of a bigger, grander Lebanon; Tueni
wrote about freedom and Gemayel symbolized the traditional elite.30
These new Lebanese martyrs that Fares recalls now visually encircle Beiruts central
square. Former Prime Minister Rafik Hariris flowered tomb sits adjacent to the grandiose
Mohammad al-Amin Mosque, Gebran Tuenis image peers down from his An-Nahar office, pleading with passers-by to unite and defend Lebanon,31 while Pierre Gemayels
poster attached to a Lebanese Forces building proclaims his eternal legacy, He lives for
Lebanon. Their untimely deaths are a contemporary reminder of Lebanons violent heritage and continuing fragility.
GOING DOWN TOWN: RECLAIMING THE CITY?
Turning now from how Beiruts central district is conceived and imagined to how it is
daily experienced and spatially encountered by Lebanese youth, it is helpful to explore
three recurring tensions: dislocation and liberation, spectacle and participant, pluralism
and fracture.
426

DISLOCATION AND LIBERATION
For a majority of Lebanese students, Beiruts Down Town remains distant and out of
place, cut off from the realities of contemporary society. This distance is experienced
and understood on multiple levels. First, there is the Down Towns spatial dislocation, a
consequence of urban planning choices that have deliberately isolated and separated the
center from its neighboring environs. This has been achieved through the construction
of a series of vast car parks and motorways which virtually encircle and dissect the center
from the periphery. As Jamal Abed suggests,
The Solidère scheme is conceived in a complete isolation, enclosing the city center
by a limited ring road and a connector to the highway leading to the airport. The
connection comes to constitute a staged kind of preferred memory that is the first
experience of a businessman or a touristthat is to say consumercoming from
the airport and received by the new Down Town. (2004:48)
Second, greater space has been created through leveling densely populated residential
neighborhoods such as Zokak el-Blatt and Wadi Abou Jamil, part of the traditional urban
center and reshaping the topography with Levantine style office blocks, health spas, and
prohibitively expensive designer flats and apartments. Finally, separation is made visible through the Down Towns ultra modern and economically exclusive cityscape, which
sharply contrasts the largely ignored, ever expanding urban sprawl of Shia Dahiyya in
South Beirut, and the deprived and needy Eastern districts of Nabaa and Karantina.
Students expressed multiple reasons for their perceived exclusion from the center,
reflecting political, economic, and religious factors:
Its good, but it should be more national, all of Lebanon or none. . .its not national,
just for a certain religion (Alaa 17, Shia, Haret Harek);
It represents a Westernized Lebanon (Tamara 17, Sunni, Moseitybe);
The center is beautiful but it doesnt represent Lebanon, perhaps the Gulf (Pierre
20, Maronite, Zhgarta);
Its cosmopolitan, perhaps it represents Rafik Hariri, its mostly elitist and cosmopolitan (Rafik 21, West Beirut).
While these responses suggest underlying prejudices and bias, they also reflect a common
perception that Solidère has failed to reconstruct an inclusive center, a place with which
all identify in a new social, national, and global context. The overarching impression remains that the center has been turned into a playground for rich Gulf Arab tourists and
a global elite privileged class, rather than a meeting place for Lebanons diverse population. An ethos of consumerism may encourage unity across both political and religious
divides, but it fails to adequately engage or diffuse recurring sectarian tensions. As Sune
Haugbolle, commenting on Lebanons recent spatial transformations, affirms, a public space dedicated to reconnecting a divided population through expensive franchises
offers a vision of pacification of conflicts, not one of solutions (2006: 4).
Yet for some youth, this separation is the inherent attraction and allure of the Down
Town, it represents a different world, Lebanon upgraded, in the words of LAU student
Angela. To Maha, a Lebanese University graduate originally from Kefraya in the Bekaa,
427
CITY & COMMUNITY

it embodies the hope and inspiration for an ordered and more stable future: I love
Down Town, I always go there. I wish all Lebanon could be like it. . . .If you go to Dahiyya
buildings are everywhere, there is no structure or order. Down Town is planned and we
dont have urban planning like this in any other area of Lebanon.32
For Tony, a Maronite Christian student from Keserwan, Beiruts center-ville is not just
a symbol of order and unity, it is a place of liberation and awakening, a refuge from the
restrictions, sectarian demarcation, and narrow confessionalism that he believes still mark
some Lebanese neighborhoods and streets. Instead the Down Town offers him an escape,
a place where he can make Muslim friends, experience life, and lose himself amidst the
anonymity of a cosmopolitan crowd. He recounts,
When I worked in the Down Town restaurant al-Baladethis was my real opportunity. I got to meet Muslim Arabs and people from the Gulf. I worked there for 3
years and will never forget the experience. . . .Down Town Beirut is more cosmopolitan. You cannot identify the religion of the shop owners. Its a business area and
Lebanese meet on business; they can join together on business.33
While Tony does not present Lebanese commercialism as an antidote for deep seated
sectarianism, he equates it with a newly emerging civic spacewhere consumer practices
and associations temporally trump other traditional cleavages and allow for new forms
of social engagement. Since 2003, Beirut has witnessed the completion of four large retail malls, with three more planned, including the long awaited rejuvenation of the traditional Beirut Souks transformed into a 100,000 m2 retail and leisure complex, replete with
covered (Souk al-Jamil) and open air markets (Souk Ayyas), a Gold Souk, Meditation Garden, Ajami Square, and 14 screen Multiplex.34 These commercial projects, while targeting both the local populace and regional tourism, have explicitly attempted to create inclusive neutral spaces that bring together people from all walks of life (Beirut Mall, Tayouneh), generating a vibrant gathering place of people of all ages (ABC Mall, Ashrafieh).
Shopping complexes like the Beirut Mall (2006) in Tayouneh have been built along a traditional boundary between Shia and Maronite neighborhoods, using a modernist architectural design, while deliberately avoiding politically symbolic colors and accommodating religious sensitivities through the location and layout of certain goods (i.e., alcohol).
Furthermore, the marketing and branding of these commercial enterprises, such as the
recently opened LeMall (2009) in Sin el-fil, seek to portray innovative places of belonging,
free from surrounding social and political pressures. LeMalls IAmMyself.Me campaign
targets a youthful generation in search of identity and meaning, echoing the mantra of
consumer self-realization, I buy therefore I am.
Being is believing that you (yourself) are different and the world becomes your
playground but you will need somewhere to practice, somewhere that understands
that you are different, some place that feels and supplies your difference, a place
where you can stop trying and start beingWelcome to yourself. You are now at
LeMall and what makes here so different from anywhere else is you. Out here you
are different, you are imaginative, you are bold, you are brave, you are curious,
you are creative, you are adventurous, you are mixing, you are matching, you are
inspired, you are.35
428

Beiruts urban regeneration founded optimistically on retail therapy mirrors Belfasts
attempts to transition from the city of the troubles to a post-conflict consumerist
metropole.36 This rapid transformation has included the redevelopment of the Laganside district, the construction of Victoria Square shopping complex (2008) and the
historic reimagining of the Titanic Quartera fusion of modernist waterfront cityscape
and nostalgic heritage center. Yet urban planners Bradley and Murtagh (2007) warn of
the dangerous emergence of a dual speed citythe glossy, consumerist middle-class
Belfast that can afford to be above sectarian divisions and the deprived working class
estates still stratified by poverty, segregation, and fear.
The prognosis is similar for Beirut, as one student confides, the problems of our city
are not really about religion anymore, but class and moneythose who have and those
who have not.37 The once divisive green line, it would seem, has now been replaced by
an equally dislocating red line, created by Solidère. For local architect Assem Salaam, the
class implications of Solidères red-line approach to Beirut are stark, with the creation of
a paradise for the rich that you need to enter with a credit card through the Solidère
stage design (cited in Charlesworth, 2006:75). Lebanese sociologist Salim Nasr explains
this internal fragmentation and social stratification within the wider context of Lebanons
increased class polarization and the emergence of a two-tier society: a wealthy, extrovert,
spending and ostentatious minority, living and moving at par with the globalised world
elite to which it aspires to belong; and a pauperized, expanding majority, stuck with a
receding economy, limited horizons and declining opportunities(2003:143).
SPECTACLE AND PARTICIPANT
This new realm is a city of simulations, television city, the city as theme park. . . .Here
is urban renewal with a sinister twist, an architecture of deception which, in its
happy-face familiarity, constantly distances itself from the most fundamental realities. The architecture of this city is almost purely semiotic, playing the game of
grafted signification, theme-park building. Whether it represents generic historicity
or generic modernity, such design is based in the same calculus as advertising, the
idea of pure imageability, oblivious to the real needs and traditions of those who
inhabit it.
Michael Sorkin, 1992
Michael Sorkins urbanist critique of the modern Spectacle citya city of simulations
adorned with architecture of deception and theme-park buildingsfinds clear resonance in the experience of Beiruti youth. Few believe themselves to be more than observers, mere spectators in a city center designed for tourism and global interests rather
than local considerations and communal needs. For 17-year-old Ibrahim, a high school
student from a Sunni background from West Beirut, the superficiality and facade begin
with the architecture, Its just a show, just buildings, whats being built on the inside of
Lebanon, nothing.38 Lebanese academic Saree Makdisi is similarly critical of Solideres
obsession with preserving the appearance of authenticity, the sense of belonging, the
spectacle of history rather than acknowledging and engaging with the actual lived past.
He concludes, the spectacle here has assumed for itself, and hence has eliminated, the
429
CITY & COMMUNITY

very function of time; it has taken on tasks and duties of history: of a history cleansed
not merely of pain, but of all kinds of other feelings as well; in short it has produced a
prosthetic history. In their place, new prosthetic feelings will be engineered to take the
place of the old; new feelings to accompany the sense of spectacular history (2006: 212).
Yasir39 , a third-year university student from the Palestinian camp of Bourj al-Brajneh,
echoes the same sense of numbness and disconnection he experiences with Beiruts artificial center:
They are rebuilding a fake Lebanon. . .its like Disneyland. Down Town is fake in
many ways. First the building style is not Lebanese, of course its reconstructed but
in a way that is very European (I havent been to Europe, but my European friends
told me that) and the term Disneyland was given by a French friend of mine, not
me. . . .They built it on top of ruins and how can a Lebanese working man afford a
cup of coffee there. . . .People going there are acting fake.
Interestingly, Yasir refers not only to a falseness of architectural style, but an insincerity
of those who inhabit that particular space. He implies that in creating a Disneyland,
Solidère has not merely denied Beiruts indigenous history but also encouraged inhabitants to indulge escapist fantasies. For Yasir, superficiality is expressed most clearly in the
Down Towns rampant consumerism, as elite fashion boutiques, exclusive restaurants,
and designer outlets dominate the main streets and central Etoile district, peering out
conspicuously from behind Ottoman facades.
The limitations of Beiruts spectacle city center are further underscored by students,
who criticize the new Down Town for providing little neutral space for young people
to meet, socialize, or engage with one another. Rami, a first-year-AUB student, originally
from the Kesrewan Mountain range but currently living in Hamra, eludicates, what it
[the Centre] fails to be is a real meeting place. . .somewhere of common culture. We
need more parks, places to meet, dont build more churches or mosques which are very
valuable, but they are in a sense divisive, why not build recreational facilities. We need to
create bridging not bonding.40 As this student eloquently argues, Beiruts celebration of
the Holy TriuneMosque, Church, and Virgin-Megastore united on Martyrs Square
demonstrates a dominance of the religious and commercial over perceived shared public
spaces. This failure to provide an accessible and dynamic meeting place for a multiplicity
of ideas, remembrances, and experiences may indeed be rebuilt Beiruts most serious
flaw. Similarly, despite the almost complete refurbishment of the traditional Beirut Souks,
many Lebanese youth remain skeptical as to whether they will be open spaces for all
communities and classes or simply new forms of gentrified exclusive shopping malls.
Although Solidères Master plan does incorporate open green spaces and parks, these
are often located encircling archaeological ruins and official State buildings (Grand
Serailthe Government Palace), which restricts both their use and public access. In
defense, Solidère may point to the Garden of Forgiveness41 (Hadiqat as-Samah), future
plans for an expansive marina walkway, or the recently dedicated Samir Kassir Garden, a
small contemplative space containing ficus trees and a water pool, located adjacent to the
slain journalists al-Nahar newspaper office on the edge of Martyrs square. However, for a
majority of interviewees these interventions are observed as limited, token gestures, particularly given the fact that Beiruts largest green space, the Horch al-Sanawbar (the Pine
forest), covering 255,000 m2 , remains restricted to public access (surrounded in part by
430

fencing, gates, and barbed wire) and subject to further development plans.42 A number of students contrasted the investment in Beiruts Down Town with the inadequate
funds allocated to the Horch park, concluding that it was due to its proximity to the less
marketable and run-down neighborhoods of Mazraa, Sabra, Chiyah, Tarik al-Jdideh, and
Badaro.
Beiruts spectacle Down Town has more recently been challenged as part of a dramatic process of political contestation. This has been most clearly observed in the
mass demonstrations surrounding the Independence Intifada of Spring 2005 in which
Beiruts center-ville became a screen for projecting a new Lebanon: free, unified, modern, and anti-Syrian. This was then followed by the Hizbullah-led counter-demonstrations
and 18-month sit-in protest (Dec. 2006May 2008) and encampment in the commercial
center that sought to destabilize the Western-backed government and give voice to an
alternate Lebanese vision.
There are various readings and interpretations of these climactic events but three
significant themes are worth highlighting. First, the Intifada has been celebrated by
some commentators as the return of both civic participation and political mobilization
to Beiruts center. Samir Khalaf optimistically hails the participation of a new generation of Lebanese youth receiving their own overdue tutelage in national characterbuilding(2006:17). This resonates with stories and tales of many students, who recounted
March 14th experiences that linked patriotic unity with physical occupation of the center (Figure 4). Rola, a university student, originally from the Metn Mountains, captures
this ebullient mood, Im Lebanese and proud to be Lebanese, perhaps Ive become even
more so recently. I loved it when we went to the demonstration; I felt that Lebanon was
really speaking, that I had a certain role, that I can bring change. I can do something. I
went to all the parades, I was so into it and I still have my Lebanese flag on my balcony.43
In this instance the Intifada functions as a vehicle for empowerment, an opportunity for
the Lebanese youth to reclaim their voice, their role in society, and consequently their
city center.
Some commentators instead hail the emergence of Lebanons socially and politically
marginalized groups, in particular Shia Hizbullah, who, through their physical encampment and blockade of the center, managed to challenge the viability of the government
and the hegemony of Solideres consumer cityscape. Through disrupting the political
economy, by turning an elitist commercial center into a site of popular protest and
dissent, these groups subverted and distorted the neoliberal spectacle city and posed
questions concerning Beiruts national imagining. Protest signs and placards not only
ridiculed Prime Minister Sinorias reliance on U.S. backing, but also economic slogans
were projected onto the walls of Down Town office blocks and trendy bars, declaring: No
to the government of VAT and No to the government of seafront properties (Bazzi,
2006). As Hassan Nasrallah, Secretary General of Hizbullah, declared via video-link to
the Down Town protestors on December 7th 2006, From the homes of the poor, from
the shantytowns, from the tents, from the demolished buildings, from the neighborhoods
of those displaced by war, we will make sure that they hear our voices. It remains to be
seen what lasting impact this form of resistance will have on the public perception of the
center. Will it be understood and interpreted as a temporary aberration or prove to be
a symbolic rupture invoking new forms of engagement and participation from citizens
previously marginalized from the center?
431
CITY & COMMUNITY
FIG. 4. Lebanese national flags and poster proclaiming 100% Lebanese at March 14 popular
demonstration.
Finally, a rather more critical analysis of the events suggests that Beiruts Down Town,
rather than being reclaimed by the people, was instead hijacked by political parties and
leaders, making it a public stage for performing politics and contesting the Lebanese
nation, both locally and through the medium of global media. Amongst a disillusioned
and skeptical youth, the Down Towns transformation into an opportune stage and setting
for political power games further undermines its position as a shared public space for
reconciliation. A Garden of Forgiveness may be located symbolically at the heart of
the city center, yet there is little room for such encounters given the current climate of
political tension and communal mistrust.
PLURALITY AND FRACTURE
Beyond contradictory accounts that either celebrate the Down Towns new public spaces
or berate its exclusive logic and artificial design are discourses which question the notion
of one rehabilitated centre. For many students, Beirut has multiple informal counterpublic44 spaces that emerged during the civil conflict and continue to provide unique
urban subcultures, reproducing cities within a city. One such district is Hamra, the real
and true Down Town Beirut, according to one Lebanese University student. Hamra is
432

home to the prestigious American University of Beirut; a variety of theatres and cultural
centers; numerous bookshops and infamous coffee houses where rebellions, political parties, and ideologies were born. This intellectual and cultural hub, despite years of neglect
and degradation, remains a popular meeting place for students from all backgrounds
regardless of class, religion, or politics. Although Hamra is also subject to gentrifying
impulses, with global chains and brands replacing local cafes such as the Modca (2003
Vero Moda) and the Horse-shoe (2007 Costa Coffee), it remains, in the words of Diana,
a 21-year old student from the Lebanese University, one of the most authentic districts
in Beirut. It is multifaceted and due to the mixed nature of its residents there is more
space for discussion and free expression.45 The emergence of civil society groups, reconciliation centers, and artistic communities in Hamra is not only owed to the districts
liberal history but is a consequence of the constraining visions inscribed into Beiruts
Down Town. Perhaps it is Hamras lack of urban planning and official governance that
has enabled this unofficial center to become a postwar space that allows citizens to express themselves and contest future visions. In the words of Rami Daher, an architect and
academic, Hamra is becoming a kind of symbol which rejects the Solidère model, and
this is why it is becoming very popular amongst the intellectual crowd within the city of
Beirut.46
Another significant urban center, the antithesis of Hamra, is the sprawling southern
suburbs of al-Dahiyya, home to around half a million inhabitants, in just 16km2 of condensed urban space. Al-Dahiyya conjures up endless images, opinions, and myths, and as
Lebanese American anthropologist Lara Deeb affirms:
To nonresidents, mention of al-Dahiyya often elicits such responses of discomfort,
ranging from caution mingled with curiosity to outright trepidation: responses
built on stereotypical associations of al-Dahiyya with poverty, illegal construction, refugees, armed Hizbullah security guards and secret cameras, and the Shii
ghetto. Such stereotypes obscure al-Dahiyyas complexity. (2006:45)
The majority of students I interviewed held these implicit derogatory assumptions. For
Hala, a third-year Greek Orthodox AUB student originally from the coastal city of Byblos,
the district represents another world, a paradox existence only to be negotiated through
separation, denial, and the redrawing of spatial boundaries: Al-Dahiyya is very foreign.
I dont know where I am going, I dont know the people. . . .It is not even part of Beirut,
its part of a different district, the Jabal (the MountainJabal Amal).47 Yet regardless of
personal antipathy, many students acknowledged al-Dahiyyas strategic national importance, some out of fear of Hizbullahs hegemonic state within a state, others out of a
conviction that this neighborhood embodies the spirit of resilience and represents an
authentic Lebanese experience. Mohassin, a veiled, 22-year-old Lebanese University student from the Haret Hreik neighborhood, explains, al-Dahiyya is the real beating heart
of Beirut and the Arab world. Some people just see religious fundamentalism but we are
grappling with resistance, freedom and advancement; we have enemies on all sides and
always there is Israel.48 Other, particularly Shii students, were keen to point out that
despite little electricity (12 hours a day) or other municipal services, the suburb is thriving commercially, with the opening of new shops, cafes, and restaurants. Indeed on the
congested junctions, images of Hizbullah martyrs and bearded clerics compete for space
with billboards of Lebanese models and hairdressing salons. Similarly, fashion boutiques
433
CITY & COMMUNITY

selling bikinis and miniskirts are to be found alongside Islamic bookshops and religious
charities. Islamic modernity is being negotiated on al-Dahiyyas streets in various guises:
from the evolving fashion styles of hijab chic to the emergence of new mixed social
spaces for youth in trendy restaurants and internet cafes (Deeb, 2006). The dynamic politics of urban reconstruction mix with political resistance. In the aftermath of Israels
most recent devastating bombardment of al-Dahiyya in July 2006, Hizbullah established
a private development agency, Waad 49 , which has reconstructed 60 percent of the 200
residential buildings destroyed in the war.50 In bypassing official planning processes and
the local municipal authority Hizbullah has appropriated reconstruction as a means to
bolster local support, strengthen their de facto control, and expand the scope of Islamic
resistance. As Mona Fawaz astutely explains, Waad differs from Solidère in that rather
than a private company with an eye for profit, it is a political entity looking for political
capital.51 Al-Dahiyyas reconstruction, therefore, offers an important contrast to Beiruts
Down Town, and indeed an alternative vision of Lebanons future.
While Hamra and Dahiyya represent very two very different counterpublic spaces in
contemporary Beirut, should they be viewed as part of the citys plural multicultural urban fabric or rather a symptom of its war-induced fragmentation? The question persists,
to what extent and under what conditions can public spaces and civic centers live up to
such grand and totalizing demands? Can and should we expect Beiruts reconstructed
Down Town to help diffuse Lebanons post-war divides? Scholars and practitioners remain divided on this topic. Scott Bollens (2007:233) in his book Cities, Nationalism and
Democratization stresses the potential for urban interventions to facilitate inter-group coexistence and societal peace building, constituting a bottom-up approach able to complement a top-down peace-making negotiations; providing Barcelona as an example of
cosmopolitan reimagining and Bilbao (a Basque city) as a case of communal consensus
building. On the other hand Varshney (2001), reflecting on ethnic violence in India, persuasively argues that interethnic engagement in public spaces may be enough to maintain
peace in small rural contexts but in postconflict cities interethnic civic networks are required to withstand exogenous communal shocks. The issue perhaps is less to do with the
construction of cosmopolitan shared spaces than with the creation of diverse publics
that allow for the formation of cross-communal ties (sectarian/political/class) and associations.
What remains evident from interviews with Lebanese youth is that there still exists a
nostalgic longing for a dynamic center inclusive of class, sect, and political allegiance,
freely accessible and embracing Lebanons tensions and contradictions. This desire is
made all the more salient given the fact that Beirut is more religiously segregated now
than ever before in terms of residency and educational patterns (Hanf, 2003; Khalaf,
2006; Nasr, 2003). The physical walls and boundaries have vanished but they have been
replaced with subtler signs and codes, flags, graffiti, banners, and symbols that continue
to impact how Lebanese youth perceive themselves, distinguish others, and inhabit their
spatial surroundings. This is a dynamic kaleidoscope of changing social and identity
markers: no-go areas, confrontation points, and places/spaces of belonging and exclusion; a geography of fear sustained not by artificial barriers but by the psychology of
dread, hostile bonding and ideologies of enmity (Khalaf, 2006:122). Political, religious,
economic, and family disputes can all too quickly become territorialized, resulting in
spatial contestation, blockades, and violence, impacting how citizens negotiate or imagine Beiruts streets and neighborhoods. As Yasmine, a final-year Law student, confides:
434

On a recent bus journey I passed images of Nasrallah, Berri, Aoun, Jumblatt, Hariri.
Each photo marked confessional boundaries; communities are defined by the boundaries and markings on their walls. . .the posters carry memories of war and identity, they
make me feel different, I want to feel myself.52 For Fouad, a 21-year-old student from the
Shii suburbs of Dahiyya, latent hostility and sporadic violence remain embedded along
historic battle-lines: there is still a lot of fighting these days, particularly in troubled areas between Ain al-Roumaneh and Chiyah. There are annual street confrontations when
Lebanese Forces fight Shia and Palestinians to commemorate the beginning of the civil
war.53 Other students refer to trigger points, such as rival football matches, university
elections, speeches by political leaders, regional, and international events (i.e., the Danish Cartoon protests on 5th February 2006) that mobilize sectarian sentiment and create
tangible tensions on the streets of Beirut. It is important to note that while a majority of
students often reject the concept of Beirut as a fractured city, their spatial patterns and
familiarity with the city reflect economic and religious cleavages. As Rafik, a 21-year-old
politics student from Hagazian University, astutely explains, Beirut was shattered by war;
Im not sure the pieces can ever be put back together. But we survive, adapt, live.54
CONCLUSIONS
Although Beiruts weaknesses in reconstruction may be likened to the plight of many

modern global cities, the consequences are rather more troubling. The rehabilitated center both embodies and extenuates Lebanons postwar failings: inequality, corruption, and
segregation. Architect Esther Charlesworth (2004) critiques Solidères City as Heart reconstructive vision that prioritizes an exclusive Down Town renaissance as a means of
reviving a destroyed city-body to the detriment of a neglected and marginalized greater
metropolis. Her City as Spine alternative suggests the need for a dynamic and democratic approach, wherein Beiruts reconstruction is part of a longer, sequential process based upon the gradual implementation of a number of small regeneration projects
that, in time, repair and strengthen the social and physical backbone of both the city
and its many communities (2006:55). This urban critique clearly resonates with many
Beiruti youth, frustrated and disenchanted by Beiruts newly created island of wealth
built amidst the debris of underplanned, underfunded, and disconnected suburbs and
neighborhoods. Nevertheless, any attempt to remake Beirut remains dependent on the
wider Lebanese state building project and the ever-changing geopolitics of the region.
Intractable issues such as decommissioning Hizbullah, strengthening the Lebanese army,
tackling the patronage system, equal provision of social and public services, defining borders with Israel, and relations with Syria will continue to impact upon Beiruts urban and
social rehabilitation. Beiruts recovery is similar to that of other divided cities within contested states that are subject to regional pressures and international interventions, such
as Kirkuk, Nicosia, Belfast Mostar, and Jerusalem.55 Unlike Jerusalem, where the struggle is over contested national sovereignty (Israel and Palestinian Authority) and increasingly exclusive religiopolitical ideologies (Zionism and Islamism), Beiruts battle lines are
drawn over the nature of the Lebanese nation-building project and the elusive search for
aysh mushtarak or shared life within the confines of Lebanons consociational arrangements (Haugbolle, 2010; Young, 2010).
435
CITY & COMMUNITY

The viability of Beiruts rebuilt center therefore depends on providing a Lefebvrian
right to the city for all its diverse inhabitantswith the recovery of public spheres and
common spaces that allow for new forms of social engagement and encounter. As this
brief study of Lebanese youth suggests, Beiruts Down Town is offering a limited form of
shared space restricted to those who can afford it and more recently those politically mobilized enough to contest it. While many youth feel marginalized and excluded, the city
center still manages to evoke an urban imaginary littered with fragments of loss, tales of
belonging and destruction, stories of former cosmopolitanism, and prospects of future
hope. For the majority of interviewees access to the center will require the emergence
of new forms of urban resistance, civic participation, and multiple and complex negotiations with the historic past, thus challenging Solidères hegemonic vision and upholding Lebanons fragile equilibrium. The next generation of Lebanese recognizes that national reconstruction requires a rebuilt urban fabric and collective remembrance, which
balances narratives of loss and suffering alongside those of recovery and redemption.
For human rights consultant Adrienne Fricke, Beiruts postwar rehabilitation must move
beyond erasure or sanitizing of the traumatic past, but include educational and informational programs that encourage continued civic participation and public discussion
of Beiruts urban and social history and the reconstruction efforts, mobilizing negative
heritage for positive didactic and psychological purposes, as well improving the chances
of consolidating a national Lebanese identity mediated through lieux de memoire of public spaces (2005:1778). Such optimistic proposals however must be measured against
Lebanons continuing political instability, its illusive search for a consensual history of
the war (Lebanon still awaits a unified history curriculum for schoolchildren), and the
reality of competing war memory narratives that are still being contested and reappropriated to suit political agendas, class interests, and sectarian discourses.56 Only a small
minority of Lebanese youth believe that now is the time to remember so as not to repeat (tindhakar wa ma tinaad Arabic proverb), while the majority still favor the distance
and absolution offered by the War of Others57 conspiracy theory (the war was primarily
fought by external forces on Lebanese soil), or indeed the denial and fresh beginning offered by selective forgetting and social amnesia. Beiruts recovery must inevitably involve
an acceptance of contested pasts and a reimagining of shared futures, moving beyond
the nostalgia for the citys cosmopolitan history to an everyday experience of social integration and civic participation.
Notes
1
Concerning the reconstruction of Beirut, see Khalaf (2006) The Heart of BeirutReclaiming the Bourj; Kassir
(2003) Histoire de Beyrouth; Jad Tabet (2001) Portrait de ville : Beyrouth; Peter Rowe and Hashim Sarkis (eds.)
(1998) Projecting Beirut: Episodes in the Construction and Reconstruction of a Modern City; Angus Gavin and Ramez
Maluf (1996) Beirut Reborn; Khalaf and Khoury (1993) Recovering Beirut: Urban Design and Post-War Reconstruction;
and Friedrich Ragette (ed.) (1983) Beirut of Tomorrow: Planning for Reconstruction
2 This includes a series of interrelated events such as the targeted assassination of Lebanese politicians and
journalists; sporadic clashes between March 8 and March 14 political coalitions; the Israel-Lebanon War of June
2006; and the Hizbullah takeover of Beirut in May 2008.
3 Access to Lebanese schools and students was granted through personal contacts with teachers and headmasters, and with the help of conflict resolution centers and local civil activists. These included activists involved
with the Centre for Conflict Resolution and Peace-building (CCRP) based in Hamra, Beirut, and Umam Documentation and Research based in Haret Harek, Dahiyya.
436

4
Lebanese political power-sharing arrangements are based on a historical National Pact (1943) that has
been reaffirmed under the Taif Accords (1989) and more recently by the Doha Agreement (2008). It provides
for a proportional sectarian quota of elected representations in Parliament, and a government structure made
up of a Maronite Christian President, a Sunni Muslim Prime Minister, and a Shiite Speaker of the house.
5
The names of interviewees have been altered to preserve their anonymity but I include certain background
demographics (age, religious background, class, political affiliation, and residency), when made available to
me, to provide contextual depth to the narratives.
6
For a detailed analysis of the polyvalent nature of transgenerational memory of the Lebanon war, see Larkin
(2010) Beyond the War? The Lebanese Postmemory Experience; Khalaf (2009) Youthful voices in post-war
Lebanon; and Chrabieh (2008) Vois-es de paix au Liban Contributions de jeunes de 2540 ans a` la reconstruction
nationale.
7 Beirut: Ancient City of the Future is a motto used in Solid`
eres promotional literature.
8
These expressions are all titles of books and articles written on Lebanon. See, for example, Hudson (1968)
The Precarious Republic; Gordon (1980) Lebanon, the Fragmented Nation; and Picard (1996) Lebanon: A Shattered
Country.
9
Solidères master-plan seeks to subdivide Beirut city center into ten sectors, each with its own character;
Involves the recovery of the public domain, with the installation of a complete modern infrastructure; Provides
an urban design framework for new construction and for the restoration of preserved and historic buildings.
Specific projects include the excavation and restoration of Roman baths, Ottoman buildings, and Beiruts old
public markets. Solidères webpage is found at http://www.solidere.com.lb
10 This law was defended on the basis that postwar reconstruction would be impossible due to the displacement, fragmentation, and dispossession that afflicted Beiruts Down Town. In 1991 nearly 100,000 claimants
competed for legal priority over a mere 1,630 parcels of land (Stewart, 1996:487). Solidères take-over resulted
in original landholders receiving 65% of the total number of Solidère shares valued at $1.2 billion, while the
remaining shares were sold to the Lebanese public. For further details on this process see Leenders (2004) and
Gebara (2007).
11 This phrase was undoubtedly an ironic reposte to one of Harriris most well used development slogans,
bina al-bashar wa al-hajar rebuilding people and stones. Cited by Ciezadlo (2007) Sect Symbols, The Nation,
3 May. Available online at: http://thenation.com/doc/20070305/ciezadlo
12
Phrases and slogans from Solideres original master plan.

See Khalil (1999) Angry Property Owners Accuse Solidere of Bribing Judges, Daily Star , 15 October.
14 Ohrstrom (2007) Solidere: Vigilantism Under Color of Law, Daily Star , 6 August.
13
15
This workshop had to be cancelled due to the volatile political situation that enveloped Lebanon during
the summer of 2008.
16 This theater officially known as the Beirut City Centre building is more commonly known by the terms the
Bubble dome, the Blob, and the Egg.
17 Wilson-Goldie (2004) Beiruts icon of modernist architecture set to be revamped, Daily Star , July 2.
18 See webpage: http://studiobeirut.org/thelostroom/
19
References to Solidère have been in the redevelopment projects in Damascus (Souk Saruja and Damascus
Boulevard) and Amman (Abdali).
20 According to a 2010 report by the World Tourism Organization. For more details see http://www.unwto.
org/index.php
21 Interview conducted on November 1, 2005.
22 Interview conducted on May 12, 2006.
23
The most notable example of this is Traouis (2002) Beiruts Memory, which is a photographic survey of
Down Town Beirut before and after Solideres intervention, which juxtaposes images from 1990 to 2002.
24
Interview conducted on December 6, 2005.
437
CITY & COMMUNITY

25
Interview conducted on September 19, 2005.
26
Beit al-Madina to Recall Horrors of Civil War (2008) Naharnet, 17 October.

Wheeler (2007) Is Beirut ready for a memory museum yet? Daily Star , September 14.
28 Interview conducted on September 12, 2005.
27
29
Over 80 Lebanese bridges were destroyed during the Israeli summer 2006 offensive.
First interview conducted on October 25, 2005, and secondary discussion on December 2, 2006.
31 The full quote taken from Gebran Tuenis speech on March 14, 2005during a mass demonstration in
30
Down Town Beirut, commemorating the death of Rafik Hariri: I swear to God As a Muslim and a Christian To
defend my dear country till the death And to stay united with my brethren (to stay muwahadeen) Until my last
days on earth Defending my great Lebanon (al azeem) .
32
33
Interview conducted on October 10, 2005.

34
The South Beirut Souks opened in 2009 but for more details see http://www.solidere.com/souks2/
From the IAmMyself.Me advertising campaign taken from the LeMall website http://www.lemall.com.lb
36 ODowd (2008) Belfast in transition: from city of the troubles to post-conflict consumerist city,, Annual
35
Conference of the Sociological Association of Ireland, National University of Ireland, Galway, 10 May.
37 Interview conducted on October 15, 2005.
38 Interview conducted on May 11, 2006.
39

Interviewed conducted on November 2, 2005.
41 For more on the Garden of forgiveness see Alexandra Asseily (1998) and Khalaf (2006:160162) and the
40
Solidère website: http://www.solidere.com/garden/

42 One third of the Horch is open to the public and this is composed of childrens play areas, municipality
sports courts, and a car-park, often frequented by families having picnics. The remainder of the park has been
closed by the municipal authorities since 1995 to protect the remaining pine trees and plants. For further
discussion on the site see Fadi Shayyas paper Enacting Public Space History and Social Practices of Beiruts
Horch al-Sanawbar, given at the 5th FEASC Proceedings AUB, 2006.
43
44
Interview conducted on March 2, 2006.

Nancy Fraser (1990: 67) helpfully defines Counterpublics as Parallel discursive arenas where members of
subordinated social groups invent and circulate counterdiscourses. . . .Counterpublics emerge in response to
exclusions within dominant publics, they help expand discursive space.
46
Cited in an interview with Sarah Irving (2009) Action and Activism: Lebanons Politics of Real Estate,
Electronic Lebanon, 31 August. http://electronicintifada.net/v2/article10732.shtml
48
Interview conducted on April 22, 2006.

Waad, or promise in Arabic, is a reference to a speech by Hizbullah General Secretary Hassan Nasrallah
made in July 2006 pledging to rebuild the devastated neighbourhood. Billboards at the reconstruction sites
49
echoed the same sentiment Al-Dahiyya will be more beautiful than it was before.
50 See Waad rebuilds 60 percent of wrecked homes in Beiruts southern suburbs (2009) Daily Star 17 October.
51
Cited in Irving, Action and Activism: Lebanese Politics of Real Estate.

Interview conducted on September 19, 2005.
53 Interview conducted on December 19, 2005 in Beirut. An illustration of the recurring violence in this neigh52
borhood, on October 6, 2009, George Abu Madi was killed during a street fight involving around 150 residents
of Chiyah and Ain el Roumaneh. For a more detailed report see Sarrouf (2009) Rage in Ain al-Remmaneh
438

after Tuesday nights violence, Now Lebanon, 7 October. Available online: http://nowlebanon.com/
NewsArchive Details.aspx?ID = 118492
54 Interview conducted on October 13, 2005.
55 For a more detailed exploration of Divided Cities within Contested States see the series of working papers
provided by the ESRC project Conflict in Cities www.conflictincities.com and the interdisciplinary work of
the Crisis State Research Centre www.crisisstates.com
56 See Craig Larkin, Memory and Conflict in Lebanon:Remembering and Forgetting the Past (London: Routledge,
forthcoming).
57 The War of Others concept directly relates to Ghassan Tuenis, former head of the an-Nahar newspaper,
work Une Guerre Pour les Autres (1985), which examines the role of non-Lebanese factions (Syria, Palestinians,
Israel, US) and the Cold War dynamics on the civil violence which consumed Lebanon from 1975 to 1990.
REFERENCES
Abed, J. 2004. Notes on the Art of Selling Cities: Urban Design Strategies in the New Downtown of Beirut, in
J. Abed (ed.), Architecture Re-introduced: New Projects in Societies in Change. Geneva: The Aga Khan Award for
Architecture.
Arif, Y. 2009.Impossible Cosmopolises: Dislocations and Relocations in Beirut and Delhi, in S. Marayam (ed.)
The Other Global City (pp. 101130). New York: Routledge.
Asseily, A. 1998. The Garden of Forgiveness. Beirut: Solidere.
Bazzi, M. 2006. Peoples Revolt in Lebanon, The Nation, 21 December.
Bollens, S. 2007. Cities, Nationalism and Democratization. Routledge: London.
Boyer, M. C. 1993. The City of Illusion: New Yorks Public Places, in P. L. Knox (ed.), The Restless Urban
Landscape (pp. 111126). Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall.
Bradley, C., and Murtagh, B. 2007. Good Practice in Local Area Planning in the Context of Promoting Good Relations.
Belfast: Belfast City Council (Good Relations Research Programme).
Charlesworth, E. 2006. Architects without Frontiers. War, Reconstruction and Design Responsibility. Oxford and Burlington: Architectural Press Elsevier.
Chrabieh, P. B. 2008. Vois-es de paix au Liban Contributions de jeunes de 2540 ans a` la reconstruction nationale Beirut:
Dar el-Machreq
Corm, C. 2005. A Letter from Beirut: Disorientated Lebanon, Al-Jadid, 10 May.
Cupers, K., and Miessen, M. 2002. Spaces of Uncertainty. Wuppertal: Verlag Muller
and Busmann.
Ciezadlo, A. 2007. Sect Symbols, The Nation, 5 March. Online journal: http://thenation.com/doc/20070
305/ciezadlo
Davis, M. 1990. City of Quartz. London: Verso.
De Certeau, M. 1988. The Practice of Everyday Life. Los Angeles, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Deeb, L 2006. An Enchanted Modern: Gender and Public Piety in Shii Lebanon. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press.
El-Dahdah, F. 1998. On Solideres Motto: Beirut, Ancient City of the Future, Projecting Beirut: Episodes in the
Construction and Reconstruction of a Modern City (Conference Paper): 6878.
El-Hage, J. 2002. The Last Migration. Australia: Panache Publications.
El-Sheshtawy, Y. (ed.). 2008. The Evolving Arab City: Tradition, Modernity and Urban Development. London: Routledge.
Forty, A., and Kuchler, S. (eds.). 1999. The Art of Forgetting . Oxford, New York: Berg Publishers.
Fraser, N. 1990. Rethinking the Public sphere: A Contribution to the Critique of Actually Existing Democracy,
Social Text, 25/26: 5680.
Fricke, A. 2005. Forever Nearing the Finish Line: Heritage Policy and the Problem of Memory in Postwar
Beirut International Journal of Cultural Property, 12: 163181.
Friedland, R.,and Hecht, R. D. 2006. The Powers of Place, in O. B. Stier and J. S. Landres (eds.) Religion,
Violence, Memory and Place. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.
Gavin, A., and Maluf, R. 1996. Beirut Reborn. London: Academy Editions.
Gebara, K. 2007. Reconstruction Survey: The Political Economy of Corruption in Post-War Lebanon Lebanese
Transparency Association, Working Paper. http://www.transparency-lebanon.org/working papers/
reconstruction survey lebanon.pdf
439
CITY & COMMUNITY

Gillis, J. R. 1994. Memory and Identity: The History of a Relationship, in J. R. Gillis (ed.), Commemorations: The
Politics of National Identity. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University.
Gordon, D. C. 1980. Lebanon, the Fragmented Nation. London: Croom Helm.
Hanf, T., 1993. Coexistence in Wartime Lebanon: Decline of a State and Rise of a Nation. London: Centre for Lebanese
Studies in association with IB Tauris.
Hanf, T. and Salam, N. (eds.) 2003. Lebanon in Limbo: Postwar Society and State in an Uncertain Regional Environment. Baden-Baden, NOMOS Verlagsgesellschaft.
Hanssen, J. P., 2005. Fin de siècle Beirut: The Making of an Ottoman Provincial Capital. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
Hanssen, J. P. and Genberg, D. 2002. Beirut in Memoriam: A Kaleidoscopic Space out of Focus, in A. Pflitsch
and A. Neuwirth (eds.), Crisis and Memory: Dimensions of Their Relationship in Islam and Adjacent Cultures. Beirut:
Orient Institut.
Harb el-Kak, M. 1998. Transforming the Site of Dereliction into the Urban Culture of Modernity: Beiruts
Southern Suburb and Elisar Project, in P. Rowe and H. Sarkis (eds.) Projecting Beirut: Episodes in the Construction and Reconstruction of a Modern City (pp. 173182). Munich: Prestel.
Harb el-Kak, M. 2001. Post-War Beirut: Resources, Negotiations and Contestations in the Elyssar Project, Arab
World Geographer 3: 272289.
Haugbolle, S. 2006. Spatial Transformations in the Lebanese Independence Intifada, Arab Studies Journal,
12(3): 677.
Haugbolle, S. 2010. Memory and War in Lebanon. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Hil, R., and Bessant, J. 1999. Spaced out? Young Peoples Agency, Resistance and Public Space, Urban Policy
and Research, 17(1): 4149.
Hirsch, M. 1997. Family Frames: Photography, Narrative and Postmemory. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Hirsch, M. 2008. The Generation of Postmemory, Poetics Today, 29(Spring):103128;
Hudson, M. 1968. The Precarious Republic: Modernization in Lebanon. New York: Random House.
Huyssen, A. 2003. Present Pasts: Urban Palimpsests and the Politics of Memory. Stanford, CA: Stanford University
Press.
Huyssen, A. 2008. Other Cities, Other Worlds: Urban Imaginaries in a Globalizing Age. Durham, NC: Duke University
Press.
Jayyusi, S. K., Holod, R., Petruccioli, A., & Raymond, A. 2008. The City in the Islamic world (Vol.2). Leiden; Boston,
MA: Brill.
Kassir, S. 2003. Histoire de Beyrouth. Paris: Librairie Arthème Fayard.
Khalaf, R. S. 2009. Youthful Voices in Post-War Lebanon, The Middle East Journal 63(1): 4968.
Khalaf, S. 2002. Civil and Uncivil Violence in Lebanon. New York: Columbia University Press.
Khalaf, S. 2006. Heart of Beirut: Reclaiming the Bourj. London, Saqi.
Khalaf, S., and Khouri, P. S. 1993. Recovering Beirut: Urban Design and Post-War Reconstruction. Leiden: Brill.
Khalil, Z. 1999. Angry Property Owners Accuse Solidere of Bribing Judges, Daily Star , 15 October.
Larkin, C. 2010. The Lebanese Postmemory Experience, International Journal of Middle East Studies, 42(4):615
635.
Leenders, R. 2004. Nobody Having Too Much to Answer For: Laissez-Faire, Networks and Postwar Reconstruction in Lebanon, in S. Heydemann (ed.), Networks of Privilege in the Middle East: The Politics of Economic Reform
Revisited (pp. 169200). New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Lefebvre, H. 1974. La Production de lespace. Paris: Anthropos.
Lefebvre, H. 1991. The Production of Space. Translated by D. Nicholson-Smith. Oxford: Blackwell.
Lowenthal, D. 1998. The Heritage Crusade and the Spoils of History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Lowenthal, D. 1999. Preface, in A. Forty and S. Kuchler (eds.), The Art of Forgetting (pp. xixiii). Oxford, New
York: Berg Publishers, 1999.
Madanipour, A. 2000. Public Space in the City, in P. Knox, P. Ozolins, and J. Wiley (eds.), Design Professionals
and the Built Environment (pp. 117125). New York: Academy Press.
Makdisi, S. 1997. Laying Claim to Beirut: Urban Narrative and Spatial Identity in the Age of Solidere, Critical
Inquiry, 23(2): 661705.
Makdisi, S. 2006. Beirut, a City without History? in U. S. Makdisi and P. A. Silverstein(eds.), Memory and Violence
in the Middle East and North Africa (pp. 201214). Bloomington, IN :. Indiana University Press.
Makdisi, U. S., and Silverstein, P. A. (eds.). 2006. Memory and Violence in the Middle East and North Africa. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.
Meskell, L. 2002. Negative Heritage and Past Mastering in Archaeology, Anthropological Quarterly 75: 557574.
440

Nagel, C. 2000. Ethnic Conflict and Urban Redevelopment in Down Town Beirut, Growth and Change, 31(2):
211234.
Nagel, C. 2002. Reconstruction Space, Re-creating Memory: Sectarian Politics and Urban Development in
Post-War Beirut, Political Geography, 21(5), 717725.
Nasr, J. and Verdeil, E. 2008. The Reconstruction of Beirut, in S. K. Jayyusi, R. Holod, A. Petruccioli, & A.
Raymond (eds.). The City in the Islamic world (Vol.2) (pp. 11151142). Leiden; Boston: Brill.
Nasr, S. 2003. The New Social Map, in T. Hanf and N. Salam (eds.), Lebanon in Limbo (pp. 143158). BadenBaden: NOMOS Verlagsgesellschaft.
Nora, P. 2001. Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Memoire, Representations 26:724.
Ohrstrom, L. 2007. Solidere: Vigilantism Under Color of Law, Daily Star , August 6.
Picard, E. 1996. Lebanon: A Shattered Country. New York: Holmes and Meier.
Ragette, F. 1983. Beirut of Tomorrow: Planning for Reconstruction. Beirut: The American University of Beirut Press.
Ricoeur, P.2004. Memory, History, Forgetting . Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
Robinson, C. 2000. Creating Space, Creating Self: Street-Frequenting Youth in the City and Suburbs, Journal
of Youth Studies, 3(4), 429443.
Rowe, P., and Sarkis, H. 1998. Projecting Beirut: Episodes in the Construction and Reconstruction of a Modern City.
Munich: Prestel.
Sarkis, H. 1993. Territorial Claims: Post-War Attitudes Towards the Built Environment, in S. Khalaf and P.
Khoury (eds.), Recovering Beirut. Leiden: E. J. Brill.
Sarkis, H., and Rowe, R. G. 1998. The Age of Physical Reconstruction, in P. Rowe and H. Sarkis (eds.), Projecting
Beirut. Munich: Prestel.
Sarrouf, M. 2009. Rage in Ain al-Remmaneh After Tuesday Nights Violence, Now Lebanon, October 7. Available online at http://nowlebanon.com/NewsArchiveDetails.aspx?ID=118492.
Sassen, S. 1999. Whose City is it Anyway? Presentation at American University of Beirut, March 19.
Sawalha, A. 2010. Reconstructing Beirut: Memory and Space in a Postwar Arab City. Austin: University of Texas Press.
Sibley, D. 1995. Geographies of Exclusion: Society and Difference in the West. London: Routledge.
Soja, E. W. 1989. Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory. London; New York: Verso.
Sorkin, M. 1992. See You in Disneyland in M. Sorkin (ed.), Variations on a Theme Park. New York: The Noonday
Press.
Stewart, D. J. 1996. Economic Recovery and Reconstruction in Postwar Beirut, The Geographical Review, 86:
487504.
Stier, O. B., & Landres, J. S. 2006. Religion, Violence, Memory, and Place. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Tabet, J. 2001. Beyrouth, Collection Portrait de ville. Institut. Francais dArchitecture, Paris.
Tienda, M., and Wilson, W. J. (eds.). 2002. The Jacobs Foundation Series on Adolescence, Youth in Cities: A
Cross-National Perspective. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Traoui, A. 2002. Beiruts Memory. Beirut: Banque de la Mediterranee
Varshney, A. 2001. Ethnic Conflict and Civil Society: India and Beyond, World Politics, 53 (3), 362398.
Wheeler, W. 2007. Is Beirut Ready for a Memory Museum Yet? Daily Star , September 14.
White, R. 1990. No Space of Their Own. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Young, M. 2010. The Ghosts of Martyrs Square: An Eyewitness Account of Lebanons Life Struggle. New York: Simon and
Schuster.
Ziadeh, H. 2006. Sectarianism and Intercommunal Nation-Building in Lebanon. London: Hurst and Company.
Zukin, S. 2010. Naked City: The Death and Life of Authentic Urban Places. Oxford; New York: Oxford University
Press.
Rehaciendo a Beirut: Desafiando la memoria, el espacio y el imaginario urbano de la

juventud libanesa (Craig Larkin)
Resumen
A traves de los siglos, la ciudad de Beirut ha mostrado una capacidad ilimitada para reinventarse y transformarse a s misma como consecuencia de la migracion, las conquistas,
el comercio y los conflictos internos. En las ultimas
tres decadas, el centro de la ciudad
de renovacion comercial y, mas

ha pasado por momentos de violenta auto-destruccion,
como espacio de disputas nacionales a medida que las
recientemente, de apropiacion
441
CITY & COMMUNITY

fuerzas opositoras llevan a cabo protestas multitudinarias y luchan por ganar espacio estrategicamente importante. Aunque en investigaciones anteriores se han estudiado estos
y los principales actores involucrados, se ha prestado poca
procesos de transformacion
a la forma en que la nueva generacion
de libaneses se relaciona con la reconatencion
de Beirut. Este artculo se propone llenar este vaco a partir de la exploracion
struccion
de como la juventud de la posguerra recuerda, imagina y se encuentra con su ciudad en
terminos espaciales. De que forma el panorama de reconstruccion urbana de Beirut con
sus vestigios de guerra, sus reasentamientos y la transformacion de sus entornos afecta y
nutre la identidad e interacciones sociales y las percepciones sobre el pasado? A partir del
social del espacio (percibido, concebido
analisis de Henri Lefebvre sobre la construccion
de las tensiones inherentes en el encuentro entre la juventud
y vivido) y la exploracion
de la posguerra y el pasado como historia, memoria y legado, este artculo presenta un
imaginario urbano dinamico y complejo de Beirut. El analisis de lugares urbanos clave
(Solidères Down Town) y momentos significativos en el tiempo (la Intifada de Independencia) revela tres tensiones recurrentes evidentes en la forma en que la juventud
libanesa interactua
con la ciudad: dislocacion y liberacion, espectaculo y participacion,
pluralismo y fragmentacion. Este artculo busca motivar un debate mas amplio sobre el
despues de la guerra y la construccion
de espacios urbanos
caracter de la recuperacion
del
rehabilitados en el contexto del consumismo global y las campa
nas de revalorizacion
patrimonio.
442

Remaking Beirut Contesting Memory, Space

Cargado por

Información del documento

Derechos de autor

Formatos disponibles

Compartir este documento

Compartir o incrustar documentos

Opciones para compartir

¿Le pareció útil este documento?

¿Este contenido es inapropiado?

Copyright:

Formatos disponibles

Remaking Beirut Contesting Memory, Space

Cargado por

Copyright:

Formatos disponibles

Remaking Beirut: Contesting Memory, Space,

and the Urban Imaginary of Lebanese Youth

City & Community 9:4 December 2010

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

My observations primarily emerge from extensive anthropological field work, involving

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

model for regional redevelopment19 and a potent symbol of Lebanons reemergence

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

(RE)IMAGINING THE CENTER: WAR MEMORY, HERITAGE, AND NOSTALGIA

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

FIG. 3. Martyrs memorial statue, in the center of Beiruts Martyrs Square.

There is no need to remember Lebanons past crimes and conflictswhen there is

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

Although Beiruts weaknesses in reconstruction may be likened to the plight of many

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

Phrases and slogans from Solideres original master plan.

Interview conducted on December 6, 2005.

CITY & COMMUNITY

Interview conducted on September 19, 2005.

Beit al-Madina to Recall Horrors of Civil War (2008) Naharnet, 17 October.

Interview conducted on October 10, 2005.

Interview conducted on October 11, 2005.

Solid`ere website: http://www.solidere.com/garden/

Interview conducted on March 2, 2006.

Interview conducted on April 22, 2006.

Cited in Irving, Action and Activism: Lebanese Politics of Real Estate.

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

CITY & COMMUNITY

REMAKING BEIRUT: MEMORY, SPACE, AND THE URBAN IMAGERY

Rehaciendo a Beirut: Desafiando la memoria, el espacio y el imaginario urbano de la

de renovacion comercial y, mas

CITY & COMMUNITY

También podría gustarte