‘We Are Having Trouble Living Without Fear’: Beirut’s Cultural Sector Starts to Pick Up the Pieces After the City’s Deadly Explosion

“I have made my analysis and
Lebanon has Stage IV cancer,” I overheard a Lebanese economist, who
was visiting Beirut from New York, quip darkly one afternoon last
August.

The devastating explosion on
August 4 decimated large parts of Lebanon’s capital—but the country
was already ailing badly in the year leading up to the disaster. To
truly appreciate the state of the nation and the challenges it
faces moving forward, those in the cultural sector say, one must
first understand the context in which the explosion
erupted.

“Beirut, more than Lebanon, is a
central place for the whole region,” said Saleh Barakat, who runs
Agial Art Gallery and Saleh Barakat Gallery. “It represents a free
culture that is being endangered today.” His gallery was severely
damaged in the explosions and lost one member of its staff, Firas
Dahwish. The logistician and art handler was in intensive care for
three days before he passed away.

“The survival of Beirut means
the survival of this plurality, diversity, tolerance, culture, and
freedom of expression,” Barakat continued. “If we do not get help
now, we risk becoming another Gaza, Syria, or
Yemen.” 

In the wake of the explosion, cultural organizations from around
the world—including UNESCO, the International Council of
Museums, the World Monuments Fund, and the Louvre—pledged to offer
support in the rebuilding of the city’s museums and arts
organizations. But local experts say the physical damage is just
one element of a much more complex web of problems.

A Year of Turmoil

Last fall, ten months before the
explosion, the streets of Beirut were overtaken by what is known
here as the October Revolution, with young men and women demanding
sweeping political change and an end to the country’s sectarian
system of government.

These were peaceful marches,
filled with hope. But change didn’t come. Lebanon became sicker and
sicker. Unemployment and inflation surged. Living standards
plummeted.

Then the lights of Lebanon went
out—literally and figuratively. For the past few months, most of
the population has had access to just one to two hours of
electricity each day from the national grid. For the remaining
hours, power needs to be sourced from a neighborhood
generator. 

Still, as Lebanon plummeted into
darkness, no one could have predicted the horrors that were to
unfold on August 4th, when 2,750 tons of explosive ammonium nitrate
stored without safety measures at the Port of Beirut for over six
years exploded. The blast left over 5,000 wounded, more than 200
people dead, 300,000 people homeless, and the city of Beirut torn
to pieces. It was as if an already desperately ill patient had been
punched in the face.

“What else can happen to us?”
said Mariana Wehbe, who runs an eponymous public relations firm.
“From here it is only death, or we fight for our
future.”

The Great Rebuild (Again) 

Lebanon’s history is marked by
destruction. In Beirut, wounds from the past in the form of bullet
holes and bomb shelters stand beside sleek modern high rises and
historical buildings. Both the Lebanese Civil War from 1975 to 1990
and the Israeli Invasion in 2006 left the city severely scarred.
Over and over, the Lebanese people have picked themselves up and
rebuilt.

“Our resilience is a curse,”
said Mohamed Maktabi, director of carpet maker Iwan Maktabi. “I’ve
been rebuilding all of my life and I don’t want to do it again! But
the truth is that we will rebuild. We are here to stay. But we are
rebuilding knowing that it will likely be destroyed
again.”

In some ways, this time feels
different. Alongside countless others from the country’s creative
industry, the owner of the carpet shop next to Iwan Maktabi’s has
decided to leave Lebanon. 

“There will be an exodus of
Lebanese,” said Andrée Sfeir-Semler, owner of Beirut- and
Hamburg-based Sfeir-Semler Gallery. Sfeir-Semler is working to
raise money for relief organizations including the Arab Fund for
Arts and Culture and Mophradat, which will help restore homes and
aim to keep Lebanese people in the city. “We have transformed this
gallery into an NGO,” he said.

The artwork in the gallery’s
Beirut branch was surprisingly undamaged, but the gallery itself
has been destroyed. “There are no walls, no computers, no
electricity, and no air conditioning,” Sfeir-Semler said. “The
artwork and my staff are safe and that is what is
important.”

The Sursock Museum, the crown
jewel of Beirut’s cultural scene and the center of cultural life
during the 1960s, was also severely damaged. It reopened in 2015
after a costly restoration. “In order to be able to act fast, we
need to find funding from abroad,” said director of the Sursock
Museum, Zeina Aridi, who is campaigning for funds to help rebuild.
“We need help quickly
because the rainy season will come and damage the building more. We
need to buy special glass.”

Aridi returned to Beirut from
Paris in 1993 to help reconstruct the city after the civil war. “I
was young, passionate and determined, but now we need to rebuild on
a solid basis and with real perspective for Lebanon so that it is
not always under the threat of being bombed or having war provoked
or being run by Hezbollah or corrupt leaders.”

Also in need of rebuilding is
the Arab Image Foundation (AIF), dedicated to collecting
photography from across the Arab world, which is located in
Gemmayze, one of the hardest hit areas. Vartan Avakian, an artist and AIF board member,
reports that the organization’s window frames were blown out, its
computers damaged, and its walls and ceilings collapsed.
Electricity was only restored on August 11.

But luckily, the collection and
archive have not suffered major damage. “We in the cultural sector need each other now
in order to rebuild,” Avakian said. 

A Culture of Fear

In the 10 days since the
explosions, Lebanon’s government has resigned amid mounting anger
over the corruption and negligence that led to the blast. But many
believe even this is not enough to produce lasting
change. 

Hezbollah, the country’s Shia
Islamist political party, is still in power, with its connection to
Iran (from which it receives military training, weapons, and
financial support), and with its political affiliation to the
Ba’ath government of the Al Assad family in Syria. Many in Lebanon
believe that unless an international body such as France
intervenes, Lebanon is doomed to become a failed
state. 

Since protests erupted in
October, activists, artists, journalists, and even ordinary
citizens seen to be generally against the regime have been detained
and interrogated by the military and by Lebanese internal security
forces. The protests that broke out last Saturday turned violent as
the Lebanese military confronted protesters with tear gas and
rubber bullets. 

“There are protests every night
and they are shooting us,” said photographer Myriam Boulos.
“Sometimes I am too scared to take pictures. We never know who they
will shoot. I am trying to
find new ways to document the violence because I don’t want to be
shot at but also because I use a direct flash, and photographing
people who have just been wounded is sensitive. I prefer going with
them to the ambulance first and to ask for their
consent.”

Two days ago, Boulos watched as
a protester was shot in the heart.

“The army took the decision to deal harshly with the
demonstrators,” said artist Taghreed Darghouth, whose studio and
apartment lie in ruins. “Those who were extremely active during the
Thawra (revolution) were peaceful but the [military] used their
thugs to make us fearful to continue protesting. We were
intimidated.”

Artist Abed Al Kadiri opened a
show at Beirut’s Galerie Tanit days before the explosion. The
blasts destroyed not only the gallery, but also many of his
artworks. Last October, he had attended the protests and was
violently attacked and suffered several injuries.

“This aggression was a very
clear message that we are living in a country that limits our
freedom of expression,” he said. “If we dare transgress these
limits, the result is punishment via aggression or
death.”

Financial Hurdles 

One of the biggest challenges
Lebanon faces as it strives to pick up the pieces following the
explosions is the sheer depth of its economic
plunge. 

“Everything has to be ordered
from abroad,” said Aridi. “Because of the weak Lebanese dollar, the
money needs to come from outside and be paid from outside. If the
money comes to a Lebanese bank, they won’t give it to
us.” 

For several months, the Lebanese
Central Bank has set withdrawal limits for those taking out
Lebanese pounds. The limits hover around $200 per week (though they
can be sometimes higher, depending on the size of the bank
account). There is, however, a scheme known as “fresh money” that
allows individuals outside of the country to transfer dollars into
Lebanese accounts, enabling people in Lebanon to gain access to the
entirety of the transferred sum. But many doubt how long this will
last before the banks start setting limits on this money,
too. 

Moreover, the damaged port
served as Lebanon’s most important maritime gateway, providing the
import-dependent country with food, medical supplies, and other
necessities. The country’s second biggest port, Tripoli, will take
over in the interim. 

“All of the international aid is
helping us, and we are so grateful, but the money isn’t coming fast
enough, and we need immediate cash in order to fix our homes,” said
photographer Omar Sfeir. 

Sfeir, 26, had his home severely
damaged. He is currently bouncing between the homes of friends and
his family’s place in the mountains. He doesn’t want to sleep
alone.

“The Lebanese are very lost
right now,” he said. “We are having trouble living without fear. We
see smoke from the balcony, and we run.”

Like others Artnet News spoke
to, Sfeir believes in the importance of rebuilding. But as disaster
piles on top of disaster, it becomes harder to see the future
through the wreckage.

“We are all in love with
Beirut,” he tells me over the phone. “It’s the same feeling as when
someone falls in love and the relationship ends really badly. When
you enter a new relationship you are scared. You already project
the end. That’s how we are feeling now. We are
traumatized.”

Organizing Relief

The following organizations are facilitating relief efforts
in Beirut.

Alfanar Emergency Lebanon
Appeal
Alfanar aims to raise $500,000 (£380,000) to provide emergency
relief for those who have lost their homes and
livelihoods.

Arab Image Foundation
The AIF is raising money to restore its damaged building, repair
its computers, and and preserve its photographic archives.

Art Relief for Beirut
Mophradat will direct 100 percent of donations to arts workers and
institutions, with an eye toward sustaining practices rather than
focusing on individual projects.

Books for Beirut
For the month of August, all proceeds from the Mosaic Rooms’
bookshop will go to the Lebanese Red Cross.

Blooms for Beirut
Radical Blooms, a London-based florist, is donating 100 percent of
the profits from dried flower arrangements to emergency relief
efforts in Beirut via the Beirut Emergency Fund 2020.

Caabu’s List of Ways to
Help
Caabu put together a working list of ways to help those
affected by the blast, including supporting organizations on the
ground as well as local Lebanese and international NGOs.

Fund for Studio Safar, Papercup, Jana
Saleh
A fund to get artists’ studios back on their feet.

Impact Lebanon
A group aiming to raise £7.5 million to provide disaster
relief from those affected by the explosion.

Lebanon Solidarity Fund: Fundraising
Campaign for the Arts and Culture Community in
Beirut
An international fundraising campaign by AFAC to support the city’s
arts community.

Lebanese Red Cross
Emergency aid for those on the ground.

Long-Term
Injury Donations
Contributions will help disabled victims that need access to
medical rehabilitation as well as mobility equipment such as
wheelchairs and prosthetics.

Queer Habibi
One hundred percent of the proceeds from postcards and posters will
be directed to the Impact Lebanon fund and LGBTQ+ communities of
Lebanon.

Raphaelle Macaron x Studio Fidèle – Beirut
Relief Fund
A series of 12 Riso prints are available for sale, and 100 percent
of the profits will be donated to Impact Lebanon. (A small portion
of the money will be used to cover shipping costs.)

Super Fund for
Beirut
Slow Factory’s fundraiser tasks corporations with reinvesting their
marketing dollars in support of social and environmental justice,
starting with the aftermath of the recent explosion in Beirut.

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Beirut’s Cultural Sector Starts to Pick Up the Pieces After the
City’s Deadly Explosion appeared first on artnet
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