Digging up Beirut

Solidere, the company rebuilding downtown Beirut, has taken a lot of flack for transforming the most ruinous part of the Lebanese capital into posh fantasy land. Whether or not some of this criticism is valid-- one would be hard pressed to ignore the archeological benefits of tearing down large chunks of the city, and peeling off layer upon layer of its 5,000 year old history in the process.

In fact, large swaths of the Solidere project are slated to become archeological viewing areas, and at the same time, new digs keeping popping in other places--probably not so ideal for investors. The latest I noticed was in the central parking lot, which is slated to become a futuristic high rise and shopping complex designed by Jean Nouvel:

(photo credit: dezeen)

...but not before the archeologists have their way on part of the plot:





On the street level, to the right of the diggers, I noticed several stacks of black plastic crates filled with artifacts. I asked one of archeologists--a college-aged guy with a long pony tail--what was inside.

"Bones," he replied, deadpan.

"How old," I prodded.

"These are from the Muslim period--about 1,200 years ago."

He later explained that the site was comprised of graves, but the dig was now moving deeper, into the Roman period: "We're not sure if we'll find more graves there."

The dig was being coordinated by the Ministry of Antiquities, he said, and would probably be covered over to make way for the new high rise. But another archeological site just up the road--also on prime real estate--would probably remain in tact, he said optimistically.

The reference was to a dig adjacent to Beirut's old synagogue, which I had taken pictures of earlier:


According to the archeologist, that site had been a former horse racing stadium. Developers had been given an alternate piece of property, he said, so that the ancient floor could be preserved.


Finally, work on a third Beirut site recently caught my eye in the heart of the downtown seafront area. This fort-like structure has been abandoned for years, couched in between some of the new developments, such as Nabil Gholam's Foch 94 office complex and other buildings.


Hopefully the nearby pile-driving work has not disrupted its ancient foundation:



Of course there are those who will argue that many new projects have taken less care than those mentioned above--though what I have chosen is a completely random sample.

I'll never forget a story that was once told to me by an old watchman at the construction site of Beirut's largest mosque. The sprawling Istanbul-like structure was completed a couple of years ago, but at the time of construction a friend told me he had spotted several ancient structures hidden behind its tall plywood perimeter wall--visible only from his office located in a nearby high rise. So one day, back when I used to work downtown, I decided to ask the watchman on my way to the office, if any ruins did indeed lie behind the wall. "No, they are all gone now," he replied casually. When I asked where they'd gone, he said they were taken "to Normandy," a giant landfill site that has been turned into a sea reclamation project. Basically he meant the ruins were trashed.

"How many trucks," I asked, assuming the site was as big as my friend suggested."Three" he replied cooly, before leaning back in his plastic chair. (In Lebanon, truck means huge industrial-style dump truck.)

I'm not sure why an old watchman in his dust caked chair would make up such a story. But in Beirut, everyone has a story--it's hard to know which ones to believe.

Talking Sex in Saudi Arabia

This weekend I did an interview with the BBC World Service about the infamous case of Mazen Abdul Jawad, a 32-year-old Saudi man who has been sentenced to five years in prison and 1,ooo lashes after talking about his sex life on television.

Click here to listen to my interview on BBC's Newshour (@4:10 into the program), and watch Jawad's interview below:


(Click here for an English subtitled version.)

In addition to Jawad, I was asked about the fate of 22-year-old Saudi female journalist Rosana Alyami, who has received a considerable amount of Western media attention after being sentenced to 60 lashes for her alleged involvement in producing the show for Lebanese broadcaster LBC.

Interestingly, the Saudi King has pardoned Alyami today. The pardon follows an embarrassing media storm in which, during interviews with the press, Alyami claimed she had no part in producing the program about Jawad. More importantly, she shot back at Saudi authorities who claimed LBC was operating illegally in the country by noting that the Saudi information minister had appeared a few weeks earlier on the station, which in fact is quite well established in the country.

Yet LBC has taken much of the blame in this case. In addition to sentencing Alyami, Saudi authorities have also reportedly shut down LBC's offices in Jeddah and also sentenced other journalists associated with the station.

Meanwhile Jawad's lawyer has reportedly claimed that LBC, somehow manipulated his client by "tricking him" into participating in the show.

To be sure, LBC may have exercised poor judgment in this case. To talk about having sex with a neighbor outside of marriage--as Jawad admitted to doing-- may have serious consequences for the women in question in a society like Saudi Arabia.

However in my interview with Newshour, I point out the irony in that LBC is not only one of the most popular stations in the Kingdom, but also owned to a large part by a prominent Saudi billionaire prince and media mogul.

In fact, many of the controversies involving Arab television today, whether they be over sexy music videos or "immoral" reality shows have actually been produced to a large extent by Saudi investors.

The case of Jawad's interview should be seen as part of a long running struggle in Saudi society on many levels, not least of which is today's pardon issued by the King against the ruling of the religious courts.

Lost Beirut: Long Beach Plage

Beaches are a sort of institution in Lebanon. For many, they symbolize the country's relatively liberal social norms when compared to other Middle East states where having a dip in public is often the preserve of foreign tourists rather than locals.

The Lebanese beach, of course is a key component in romantic notions of 1950s Beirut as the "Paris of the Middle East"--even in times of crisis, it would not be unusual for Western peacekeepers to be bedazzled by the sight of Lebanese women in bikinis when landing their military craft ashore during one flare up or another.

Whether or not one agrees that Lebanese beaches are a cause for celebration, it is clear that the institution has only become more hedonistic as the decades have passed. Today, resorts like La Rivera and Oceana are the site of wanton displays of steroid injections and silicone implants--at Edde Sands, Fashion TV Arabia sets up a catwalk for lingerie models. Thousands of dollars in champagne are sprayed over the bare skinned revelers every Sunday as adult pools are turned into daytime nightclubs, VIP sections and all.

But recently I was asked to go back in time when some Lebanese friends in New York, who have not been back to Beirut since the 1960s, begged me to photograph their all time favorite resort: Long Beach Plage. Being more familiar with the current "Miami" type spots of today, I had never heard of Long Beach, and was surprised to find it still existed. It was virtually hidden behind a crumbling amusement park near the seaside promenade.

I pulled up to the front gate, thinking it had been completely restored (and thus boring) due to the kitsch Pepsi sponsorship:


Though the outer walls bore the scares of decade's old street battles:


But as I drew closer to the entrance booth...


I spotted some vintage material and was intrigued:




Behind the reception desk, the 'golden days' had been immortalized in a giant photograph on the wall:




Then more vintage signage:



For some reason, I just love this stuff--fragments of 'glorious' Beirut, which was in the midst of being destroyed when I was born.

The overall sitting area had been somewhat restored with new parasols:




But the cabins (a fancy French term for lockers) looked as though they hadn't changed much since the pre-war days:






At this point, I was pretty happy with my find. But then I discovered the ultimate prize... the kiddie pool:



This thing had retro written all over it:



Growing up with the PVC type slides of Six Flags, I was shocked to find that old slides like this were actually made with concrete:




I wonder how that felt going down!



Beyond the kiddie pool though, much of Long Beach Plage was quite run down. The gym wasn't looking too hot:



Neither was the basketball court:



In fact, only a handful of people were milling around during a beautiful sunny day. When compared with today's glitzy resorts, Long Beach remains but a patch of forgotten cement in the shadow of Beirut's ever changing skyline.






I met Mohammad, who told me he had worked at Long Beach since the 1960s as a waiter. He reminisced about the 'good old days' before the war in 1975--back when the Lebanese lira was strong and he made a small fortune in tips, enough to travel to Europe, he said, and buy a new car.


He lamented the loss of Long Beach's luster as one of the Beirut's premiere resorts, once boasting a giant pool, possibly the city's largest, seen here in the center of the old photo:



This was confirmed by Lebanese friends in New York who referred to it as "Al Jahash" because of its size.

But now the giant pool had been concreted over, Mohammad explained, pointing out that the water had run flush up against the curved wall shown here:



and out across the central area:



Still, despite the changes, Long Beach seems to continue to draw some of its old regulars:



And it's still beautiful to watch the waves crash routinely against its sea walls...



over and over again, in between brief intervals of calm...


...perhaps the only constant element of life in Long Beach's turbulent past.

---

For those, like my New York friends, who wonder what has become of Beirut beach life, here is a sample I found online from a typical event at Edde Sands. Caution, this video is not for the squeamish:






And a less produced piece:

Nasralla Lingerie

This photo was taken in South Beirut--an area known in the Western media as a "Hezbollah stronghold". But Hezbollah's leader, Sayed Hassan Nasrallah, is not the only Nasrallah in town. (Of course the shop above probably doesn't mind banking off the name recognition).

In fact, South Beirut can actually can be a pretty fashion conscious neighborhood.

Just take a look at this store window nearby:


When taking this shot, the owner, a 20 something guy, rushed outside to confront me: "Isn't it beautiful," he said with a huge smile on his face. "I made the design myself," he added, proudly describing himself as an avid reader of fashion magazines and always "up-to-date" on the latest trends.

New 'Lebanese' car model

I've just stumbled across this video and I think Lebanese everywhere need to circulate it widely:





Although this commercial was originally broadcast some time ago, it seems to have made little impact. Sadly, littering remains the norm in Lebanon--witnessing someone throw garbage out the window of the car driving in front of you is a routine, if not daily occurrence.

Business owners can be even more destructive as commercial dumping also seems broadly acceptable.

Here are some recent pictures I took of a beautiful mountain neighborhood defiled by reckless nearby shop owners:




And cement industries:


Sadly most dumpers go unpunished, with little to no law enforcement or fining. Lebanese government apologists will cry that there are other priorities with the country in political paralysis. But seeing that those problems have not been solved for the past three years, one sees little excuse why the country's so-called leadership fails to tackle pollution, a relatively straight-forward problem.

Those that can be thanked are the hard working men of Sukleen, Lebanon's biggest garbage collecting company. I've almost never spotted one not working.




As Lebanese pollute with abandon, Sukleen has always been there to pick up the mess. They've been there after all the protests, most recently after the sit-ins in downtown Beirut:




I think the Lebanese people need to do more to applaud their efforts, including Sukleen management. Sadly I've often spotted the men being hauled around the city, piled into flat bed trucks. (Of course many are maltreated migrant workers--another major problem for Lebanese.)

Hats off to the men of Sukleen, the hardest working folks in Lebanon.


The country would be a much bigger mess without them.

Sneaking into the "Grand Theatre"

(photo credit: nareg)

I recently got a peak inside the Grand Theatre, one of the last remaining relics of pre-war Beirut.

Today the theater is surrounded by the refurbished structures of the BCD (Beirut Central District): a multi-billion dollar private construction project that has turned the oldest part of the Lebanese capital into a posh shopping and restaurant district.

But 15 years after reconstruction began, the Grand Theatre remains gutted and abandoned.

Although it's exterior has been restored to resemble the sandblasted look of the new neighborhood, the theater's interior tells the story of Lebanon's painful civil war as well as its fabled pre-war glory. The building is said to date back to the 1930s.

(photo credit: Beiruti)

The company at helm of the BCD project (known as Solidere) has fenced off the theater building for years, with forever delayed plans, according to some, to turn it into a boutique hotel. But on a sunny afternoon, I managed to sneak across the barricades in the hope of documenting this gem of the old city before it meets the unknown fate of 'rebuilding' crews and their hotel-obsessed investment firms.

My excursion began at the outer construction wall--errected by Solidere years ago to promote the BCD project by evoking the rebirth of downtown's landmarks.



Once inside, all was eerily quiet. I had the strange feeling of entering forbidden territory, frozen in the past and deliberately hidden from public view.


I came around the side to the front gate:


Upon entering, I looked up to discover the remains of a colored glass ceiling:



Then I came upon what appeared to be a central chamber:


Suddenly the stage stood before me:


I was amazed to find the old curtains largely in tact. Below the stage, it seemed Solidere crews had reinforced the foundation:



The central pillars had also been reinforced, although these renovation works did not look fresh; they may have occurred years ago at the outset of the BCD project in the mid 1990s or thereabouts:


It's interesting to note the vintage blue paint--I've seen this before in many of Beirut's old buildings. Perhaps the color was in vogue prior to the start of the war in 1975.

It's also interesting to note the old murals and graffiti, left by militias and perhaps even invading armies who laid claim to the theater space at one time or another:






Most intriguing though, was a large image painted on the wall facing the main stage:



It looked like a disappointed angel of sorts.



Here's an unobstructed, albeit blurrier view, showing both wings:


What's also fascinating about old Beirut buildings is the surviving signage. Here are a few shots from the shops that occupied the theater's ground level facing the street (now the construction wall).





This seemed to be some sort of restaurant or bar:



Notice the funky vintage roof:


Then I found all the old theater chairs stacked up in one of the ground floor shops:



The last thing I'll point out is the sidewalk.


Upon closer view, it's actually made up of fitted glass pieces that were once transparent.


I'm not sure what this style is called but I've seen it in Manhattan as well, along some of the sidewalks of older buildings.


Before leaving the Grand Theatre, I took one last look at the new city beyond its fabricated walls:


I wonder how long it will be before the Grand Theater is also 'cleansed' of its troubled past.

At least some of those memories seem to be captured by the Lebanese director Omar Naim, in the 1999 film "Grand Theater: A Tale of Beirut", which I've just discovered online.

(poster credit: LCM)

I'm eager to see a copy if anyone knows how to obtain one.

Beirut stars in new Snoop Dogg video

The new Snoop video "That's Da Homie" is out and Beirut is playing a staring role!

You read it first here when I broke the story for CNN, a piece later picked up by 411mania and other sites.

I was really surprised by the level of exposure, having assumed Beirut would be one of many cities highlighted in a tour montage. Instead, Snoop's Beirut after party (filmed at Skybar) anchors the entire clip!

Stay tuned for my un-aired footage of the Beirut show and after party.

Iranian State Department?

For a minute, I thought the world turned upside down: the Iranians are giving a press conference at the U.S. Dept of State?!

Then again, I was watching Lebanese television.

Tehran, it turns out, seems to have modeled its foreign ministry briefing room on that of arch nemesis, Washington.

See Hillary's briefing room for comparative purposes:

(photo credit: State Department)

During a recent press conference in Tehran, the Iranian spokesman was asked why the Islamic Republic copied America's propaganda room style, while shunning all other things Western, such as neck ties.

The spokesman smiled and responded: "Of course we did not copy America and its Zionist enterprise. If you look closely you will see that they only have one national flag in their room."

(photo credit: UPI)


Just kidding, I have no idea what the minister was talking about.. although it probably was America.

Beirut ranks 175th globally, really?

According to a recent report by a Mercer, a U.S. consulting firm, Beirut is one of the least hospitable places on Earth when measured against the firm's annual "quality of life" index. It ranks 175th out of 215 countries surveyed.

I find this news a little hard to digest.

Even within the Middle East, the people at Mercer say the Lebanese capital doesn't perform well. They say its "quality of life" trails behind that of Kuwait City, Riyadh and Jeddah (see chart above, courtesy Byblos Bank).

Why then is everyone dying to be in Beirut?

The New York Times has rated the Lebanese capital number one city to visit in 2009. This summer thousands of Saudis, Kuwaitis and other Gulf Arabs flooded its streets, as they do every year, eager to spend loads of cash in the city's luxurious bars, restaurants and hotels.



Yes, tourism and quality of life are totally different indicators and yes Beirut has many problems politically and economically. Corruption is widespread, there is a huge gap between rich and poor, traffic and state services can be terrible. But these problems exist in different forms in other cities. (Why does it take me 45 minutes to travel 5 miles in NYC?)

Plus the Mercer survey is not about reporting wealth distribution or political mobility for average citizens. It's intended largely as a tool for multinational corporations in assessing hardship allowances for executives sent to live abroad.

Judging by the endless stream of parties thrown by diplomats and executives in Beirut, I wonder how "quality of life" is defined.

Beirut has its disadvantages and so do other cities on the list, especially in the Middle East. But when it comes to climate, geography, attractions, cultural diversity, entertainment, dining, social life and personal liberties, Beirut is at the forefront. (Thus the high tourism numbers, especially from Arab countries.)

Perhaps these factors did not carry much weight in the final assessment; but again, how does one define quality of life? Is infrastructure more important than entertainment and social relations?

I admit, doing business in Beirut can be challenging yet at the same time, the cost of living (such as groceries/rent) is much cheaper than Western capitals--while income taxes are relatively non-existent. Yes there is political violence (aimed mainly at politicians), but crime is insignificant compared to Europe and the US.

Beirut has plenty of other problems: the internet is slow, cell phones are expensive--but still. Panaoromaic views of the sea on a daily basis, cheap housing, beaches, mountains, sking less than an hour away... beautiful retreats urban and rural, layers of fascinating history to explore, exciting nightlife, the list goes on and on...






It may not be conventional, but Beirut definitely has quality of life, heaps of it. To rank the city 100 places behind Dubai and 125 places behind New York and 50 places below Kuwait just doesn't seem right.




Perhaps it would be interesting to visit other cities ranked on the bottom of Mercer's list and see if "quality of life" there is as bad as they say it is.

Hariri Vs. St. Georges: Eternal Standoff?

Those who designed the statue celebrating the life of late Prime Minister Rafik Hariri may have never imagined that it would gaze upon a massive billboard condemning his legacy.

The giant "Stop Solidere" banner, draped over the battle-worn St. Georges Hotel, has gone up and been taken down several times over the past few years, most recently this summer.

Its placement embodies an epic real estate battle between the St. Georges hotel's owner, Fadi Al Khoury, and Hariri-- a war that began while the former Prime Minister was still alive and now continues well after his death in 2005.


Though Hariri is often celebrated today as the architect of Lebanon's rebirth (including by American diplomats who saw him as an ally against Syria) his project to rebuild downtown Beirut, known by the French acronym SOLIDERE has been heavily criticized within Lebanon. Among his staunchest critics is Mr. Al Khoury, who claims the multi-billion dollar project is unconstitutional and governed by corrupt interests. (To be clear, it also limited St. George's access to the sea, and thus hurt Al Khoury financially.)

In a bizarre twist of fate, the blast that ripped apart Hariri's motorcade (just steps away from his memorial site) also blew off the entire front facade of the St. Georges, an iconic 1960s Beirut hotel which had been under reconstruction at the time.


For its part, SOLIDERE denies any wrongdoing. Supporters say the project serves as an important investment magnet, attracting much needed foreign capital and tourism to Lebanon by restoring the capital's image from that of a bullet riddled ghetto to that of a modern glass and steel metropolis. Turning downtown Beirut into a de facto private corporation, with the largest shareholder as prime minister, does seems to hint at a conflict of interest though.


Nevertheless, and despite several lawsuits and Hariri's brutal assassination , Solidere is going strong today. Apartments in the area are selling for $5 million and up (way up) and hotels under construction or nearly complete include the Four Seasons, Hyatt and Hilton. In fact, Hariri's statue now looks out onto a sprawling mega yacht marina, a testament to the wealth that has been drawn to the area.


But for journalists, Solidere has always been a tricky subject.

As the biggest corporation in the country, its hard to ignore. Yet because of its large shareholding by the late prime minister and now his son (who is also set to become prime minister) covering the subject can be somewhat problematic, to say the least. I hope to share more of my personal experiences-- both with Solidere and Mr. Al Khoury at some point. For now, to read more about the controversy, check out some of the articles on this site.

Lebanese fried chicken

Some would have us believe there is a clash of civilizations on the horizon. Not when it comes to fried chicken.

Watch out KFC--Lebanese Fried Chicken (LFC)--is on the offensive. The Beirut-based firm is apparently going global--they've recently changed their name to "LFCI" or "Lebanese Fried Chicken International."


My friends say it tastes the same, if not better than KFC--and at about half the price. (I'm trying to stop eating fried stuff, so I watched them feast.)

But there is a long road ahead for little LFC. Kentucy Fried Chicken is a huge player in the Lebanese fast food business, maintaining about a dozen massive outlets in the country of 4 million. (Their employees even have a facebook page.)

LFC will be competing, as most Lebanese restaurants do, with a ridiculously large menu:



Including value meals with hummus:


Good luck LFC!

Beirut Report on CNN

Here's CNN's broadcast of the video I shot of Snoop in Beirut.

My piece begins airing at about 3:00 minutes.


UPDATE: The article that goes with the video has just been uploaded on CNN's site, here.

After Beirut, what's next for Snoop?

Snoop Dogg and his band threw an outstanding show in Beirut last week. I got a behind-the- scenes look at all the action while shooting a piece for CNN.

The Dogg was very down to earth during our interview and it seems he truly had a good time here, especially at the after party where he waved his hands in the air and then MC'd at Skybar--the place where everybody who is anybody (or at least so thinks) wants to be in Lebanon this summer. Below are some photos I snapped in between shooting the video.

Stay tuned to CNN next month for my full report which will air on the program, "Inside the Middle East" as well as an upcoming article that will be posted on CNN's website. I'll be covering my interview with the show's promoter who promises to bring Snoop back for a full Middle East tour.

---

Snoop strolls off the runway and into Beirut airport's VIP lounge. He awaits passport check with head phones on....


Snoop gets into the front seat of a brand new Benz before pulling out of the VIP terminal's private driveway (head phones still on). He's flanked by the show organizer, who's behind the wheel. I'm assuming they talked business the whole way to the hotel:


Snoop takes the stage a few hours later:




He was sporting some serious bling...


Then it was on to the after party at Skybar, an open air club on the Mediterranean. It's one of the hardest places to get into in Beirut:


Snoop and his band took the VIP balcony sections, overlooking the crowds:


Snoop's drummer, who tore down the house a half hour earlier, was impressed:


As were other members of the band:


Though some preferred to mingle:




As for Snoop-- he was barely visible amid the throngs of groupies:


Of course Champagne was served Beirut style, with sparklers:


The after party ended around 3:30AM, then it was back to the Phoenicia Intercontinental for the hotel party which apparently lasted till 7AM... but since I don't have pictures of that, you'll have to use your imagination as to what happened next.

Snoop in Beirut

American hip hop legend Snoop Dogg (pictured here on the cover of a local newspaper) will be performing this Thursday in Beirut. CNN has asked me to cover the event so stay tuned for updates. I've been in touch with the show's promoter Roger Kalaouz and Associates, who says this is the best summer Lebanon has seen in decades, with performances over the last few weeks by the Pussy Cat Dolls, Kelly Rowland, Deep Purple, Akon and others. You can read more about my interview with Kalaouz on Cnn's website here.

A couple of things that didn't make it into the article: Kalaouz said he was working on other big hip hop acts this summer but didn't want me to mention them just yet--but trust me you've heard of them. Also, when asked why he chose to bring Snoop to Beirut, he said: "It's for my young daughter--whatever she requests from me I will do..." Kalaouz was tight lipped when it came to costs associated with the show, but made sure I knew he paid top dollar to out bid everyone else in the region: "That's the power of R, K & A" he said in a reference to his events company.

Lebanese elections: sex, lies and propaganda

Lebanese go to the polls this Saturday in one of the Middle East's most closely watched elections-- meaning it's one of the few in the region that's not completely predetermined by dictatorial rule.

All the major powers have a stake in the outcome. The United States has sent both Vice President Joe Biden and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton to this country in the space of less than a month. The Iranians, the Saudis, the Egyptians and the Europeans are also looking for outcomes that suit their interests.

The streets are full of candidates faces:





But in addition to the international community, Lebanese manufacturers and advertising companies are also looking to profit from the polls. These include Diamony Lingerie, which mimicked politicians' back-to-back image strategy:



Here's a closer view:


Also getting in on the action: Bob's Dinner, a new Lebanese franchise restaurtant:


In some cases, the politicians seemed to be in direct competition with marketers:



And in other cases, the line between consumerism and politics was completely blurred with some parties employing models to sell their campaigns:



Meanwhile, other companies used the elections to their advantage, doing their best to fool consumers into thinking they were selling politics.

For example, while stuck in traffic on the highway yesterday, a man passing out fliers handed this to me through my passenger window. The first line in bold type reads: "Vote for the best"



Inside, the text resembles a political manifesto:




But the reforms and changes it calls for are nothing more than a refurbishing of home furniture.

On the back of the flier, this furniture repair company lists its phone number and location:



Lebanese on both sides of the election battle are predicting dire consequences if "the other side" wins. On the one hand, the fear is Iranian domination. The pro-Western alliance says if Hezbollah's coalition wins, Lebanon will face international isolation and war. Meanwhile the anti-U.S. alliance says that if they lose, Lebanon will continue to be a puppet state enslaved by Israel and corrupt business interests. Either way, the private sector seems quite confident going into the poll.

False parrallels in Gaza

Last night ABC news ran a piece on the trauma experienced by children on both sides of the Gaza border. It's an important topic and good for ABC for covering it. But a completely inaccurate and misleading assumption was inherent in the report, which is available on ABC's website (seen above).

The video package about the children is introduced by anchor Charles Gibson as such: "Youngsters on both sides of the border are being killed, injured and traumatized". Then the following graphic went up on screen:

ABC listed the United Nations as the source of these statistics , but the network's news team left one critical word out of their graphic representation: Palestinian. In fact, the UN's reporting of the figures was actually based on Palestinian medical sources in Gaza. The story about the child deaths was actually first published by the Associated Press, which is clear in its headline that those killed are Palestinian:


But why did ABC decide to drop the word Palestinian from its reporting of the death toll?

At the very least, one would have expected anchor Gibson or the reporter, Jim Sciutto, to have clarified that the dead and injured children were actually Palestinians. But this never happened. Instead, Sciutto introduced his report as such: "Israeli and Palestinian children live such separate lives, but they share the same fear: fear of rockets, fear of air strikes, fear of losing loved ones."

In his moving report, Sciutto captured the voices of two Palestinians children and two Israeli children.

But in the Associated Press report, around a dozen Palestinian children are profiled and no Israeli children are ever mentioned, let alone reported dead.

In the AP story, there are eight photos of dead, wounded or crying Palestinian children. ABC chose to run a few of the AP photos but also added images of Israeli children. ABC then broadcast the series of photos as a slide show, without identifying the victims as Israeli or Palestinian.

AP's approach to the story reflected that of many international broadcasters such as Al Jazeera and BBC World. These broadcasters have made a clear distinction between Palestinian injuries and deaths, and have repeatedly established that the hundreds of Palestinian casualties far exceed the dozen or so fatalities--mainly military ones--- on the Israeli side. For international broadcasters, the power dynamic on the battlefield is clear.

But ABC and other American broadcasters have taken a different approach. They have often juxtaposed Israeli and Palestinian realities as somehow being similarly difficult. The determination to create such a distinction involves creating a false parallel in the reporting, and this has often been bolstered by a trend of omitting information. For example, reports that have aired on NBC and ABC over the past two days have routinely dropped the Palestinian death toll, as if not newsworthy enough to report.

But now, by using Palestinian figures without identifying them, the desire to frame the story has become so powerful that the news networks have apparently been driven to outright manipulation of the facts. In this case, viewers are mislead into believing that there is no distinction between the casualty numbers of Palestinian and Israeli children.

Two Worlds: US and Arab TV on Gaza

Watching Gaza on Arab and American TV is like watching two different worlds. For Arab channels, Gaza is breaking news all the time. Every Israeli air raid is covered live; blood and carnage flow into Arab households 24 hours per day. But on American TV, Gaza is usually a 2-3 minute news package often competing for air time with celebrity and gossip news. This week for example MSNBC anchors were consumed with photographs of Sarah Palin's grandchildren and the allegedly scandalous life of her son-in-law. Other "big stories" include the children of actor Ben Affleck and President Elect Barrack Obama.

While Arab channels covered the bloodbath at UN schools that were hit by Israeli fire,



MSNBC looked into the lunch menus of Obama's children:


Arab channels reported over 100 killed yesterday. One wonders how the American coverage would have differed if the death toll was Israeli.

What if 100 Israelis were killed yesterday. Would the story compete for air time with children's lunch menus?

For the most part, American networks have so far devoted limited resources to covering Gaza. Many have just two reporters covering the story from the Israeli side. Israel has banned Western reporters from entering Gaza.

But Arab news channels have direct access to the conflict zone, with reporters often Gazans themselves, experiencing the air strikes first hand. And rather than a couple of reporters, Arab channels have a network of bureaus and correspondents across the region. See this live shot from Al Jazeera:


Arab TV has also covered the reaction to Gaza from across the Arab world, a part of the story that is often under reported by American correspondents based largely in Israel. And while Americans see a war between Israel and Palestinians, Arab audiences are constantly reminded of the role of the US taxpayer--helping provide the Apache helicopters and F16 fighter jets doing much of the shooting.

For more on the differences between Arab and American media's approach to Gaza, see my latest piece "In the US, Gaza is a different war" on Al Jazeera's web page.

Obama propaganda

I discovered this last minute bit of propaganda taped to a wall in a New York subway station a few days ago. It features a picture of an opened Bible with the following verse highlighted:

"For there shall arise false Christs and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect."



The quoting of scripture seems ironic considering that anti-Muslim groups often allege the Koran to be militant while discounting the possibility of Bible verses being used as a weapon.

Whether or not the candidates want to admit it, the fear of Islam and Arabs has played a major role in this election. Americans from both backgrounds say they have been ignored by the McCain and Obama campaigns (See my latest article on Al Jazeera.net)

With so much propaganda flowing, it almost makes public relations sense for the campaigns to avoid the groups.

For example, the DVD "Obsession", which was mailed to some 28 million American households this month, suggests that the world is in denial of Islamic extremism, which is tantamount to Nazism in its bid to take over the planet. Worse still, the film claims it is very difficult determine how many of the world's one billion Muslims could be susceptible to such a belief. "The bad thing" according to one of the film's speakers, is that Muslims "are spread throughout the world," including the West.

Al Jazeera: TV setting or agenda setting?

It seems someone at Al Jazeera had an exciting idea for a talk show set. Who needs a typical, boring studio shot of a skyline when you can have real tanks sprouting out of the ground right behind the anchor?


Whether or not this was the thinking, Al Jazeera went full throttle with the idea, employing a serious production crew to capture the new 'Arab victory' museum created by Hezbollah in south Lebanon, as the backdrop for a talk show that aired last week.

The exhibit, which went up this summer, is largely a homage to Imad Mughniyah, the Hezbollah commander that was assasinated earlier this year. But the show, hosted by Ghassan Ben Jeddou (seen above) was not about Hezbollah explicitly. It tackled the general subject of Arab armies and Arab victories, looking at troop morale and national support; reasons, presumably, why there have been far more defeats than victories.

In addition to two Lebanese analysts, the show also featured a guest from Cairo over satellite link.


I interviewed Al Jazeera host Ben Jeddou when I was managing editor of the Journal of Middle East Broadcasters (see interview). We spoke soon after the summer war of 2006, when Ben Jeddou landed an exclusive interview with Hezbollah leader, Sayed Hassan Nasrallah. He was very open about his admiration for Nasrallah, but maintained that he could put these feelings aside as a journalist.

The show last week avoided any lengthy discussion of Hezbollah but the Lebanese analysts (neither identified as being supporters of the group) spoke of the importance of resistance as a national sentiment leading to victory. Much of the time however, the cameras focused on the exhibits, which seemed to speak for themselves, comprising a virtual voice among the punditry. They include destroyed Israeli tanks and the Hezbollah weaponry used to attack them.


Also on display were pictures of the men who carried out the attacks:


Naturally, footage of the exhibits add a bit of excitement the show and a nice break from the monotony of talking heads. But the museum is far from being a neutral space as the backdrop of a supposedly objective conversation. Of the many shots, perhaps the most telling was a wide angle cross section of the stage:



In this shot we see a giant poster of slain Mughniyah with the title "Martyr" above his image.

In some ways its not surprising to see Ben Jeddou in this context. His show sets have recently gained much publicity for their elaborate nature.

This summer Al Jazeera apologized for a show in which Ben Jeddou hosted a celebration for the freed former Lebanese prisoner Samir Kuntar, which included musicians, fireworks and a large cake with Nasrallah's picture encrusted on top. The network said the show "violated its ethics policy".

But this case illustrates more than the question of Al Jazeera's editorial judgment. It also highlights the power of the war museum as a cultural fixture. Not only does it provide an experience for every day visitors, but it also functions as a frame for public debate, whether or not it is directly addressed in that debate.

Guilt by photography: the Lebanese press does it again

After reading my previous post, a friend pointed out this article from the Al Akhbar newspaper as a further example of the photo selection process that has become shamefully routine among the Lebanese press. The article discusses a government agency that has been accused of mismanaging international aid received in the wake of the 2006 war. But before going on to read the article, and thus actually judge the integrity of its reporting, it seems that Al Akbar is trying to tell us something. Here is the close up:


Perhaps someone has got has hand stuck in the cookie jar?

Photo editing: the license of the Lebanese press

Lebanon has a vibrant media scene, but as has been said before on this blog, propaganda too often penetrates what passes for acceptable journalism. Most disturbing is that Lebanese media organizations justify editorializing their pages as a rebuttal to other media outlets doing the same thing, i.e. 'if they use propaganda than we have an obligation to counter it.'

It's a vicious cycle and its taking on ever more subtle approaches, such as picture editing. Take these recent examples from Naharnet, a website affiliated with the An Nahar newspaper, one of Lebanon's oldest and most prominent publications. I have written about Naharnet before here. It leans toward the pro-Western voices in the country.

Here is a picture that went with a story last week about Walid Jumblat, who is part of the pro-US March 14 movement.


And the close up:



Now here's a picture that went with a story about Michel Aoun, the Hezbollah-allied leader:


And close up:


From a journalistic point of view, it's really amazing that Naharnet could run the Jumblat picture as a news-related item when it is nothing more than a political propaganda poster. In it, we see Jumblat superimposed over a large crowd of supporters, emphasizing the populist narrative that has been claimed by the March 14 movement. This compares to the image of Aoun, who is potrayed as angry and unreasonable.

Of course Naharnet is just one of many Lebanese broadcasters and publications that habitually slip in their own points of view to color the story. We have seen this regularly in Future TV and Al Manar, which represent both ends of the pro-, anti- Western perspective, and both claiming to voice the true opinion of the people. Ironically, neither side seems willing to trust its own viewers to make decisions objectively, free from graphics and selective manipulation.

Special effects propaganda

Over the last few years Arab television propaganda has made some interesting technological strides, particularly from Lebanon. One of the most celebrated tools is the crane or boom camera, seen in the photo above (courtesy Al Jazeera), over the audience. Crane camera use was very big in the well coordinated coverage of the recent prisoner exchange by Hezbollah channel Al Manar. (To read more about this, see my latest piece in Variety here)

During the exchange Al Manar used not only one but two sets of crane cameras; one to shoot cermonies held in South Lebanon when the prisoners crossed over from Israel, and another to cover the rallies in Beirut. Crane cameras have become essential for any major political event in Lebanon during the last 3 years of political turmoil. They are used by Al Manar as well as pro Western channels like Future and LBC to highlight the size of the audience and thus give more 'populist' weight to the event organizers and their cause. Here are some screen shots from the recent rally in Beirut celebrating the prisoners' return, courtesy BBC:


In the following two stills we can see the crane camera slowly traveling over the audience from up close:



Flying camera shots not only keep viewers at home entertained--breaking the monotony of the stationary wide angle crowd shot-- they also boast numbers and political power.

Leaders of the anti American opposition, for example, have often pointed out that they can draw massive crowds at only a few day's notice, while pro-US groups spend months marketing and promoting a specific day, such as February 14,when former prime minister Rafik Hariri was assassinated in 2005 .

Ironically it was the pro Western alliance led by Hariri's son and other Lebanese politicians that helped popularize the trend in boom camera usage, which largely debuted later in 2005 during the massive rallies that were organized to call for the withdrawal of Syrian troops from Lebanon. At the time, the Syrian president had criticized the rallies and their organizers, saying crowds had been exaggerated by creative camera techniques and called on them to "zoom out" to reveal the true size of those gathered. As a result, cranes and other shooting techniques were employed by pro-Western TV channels and protesters soon adopted the phrase "zoom out" as their own. It later picked up speed in the Western press and the movement became known as "people power" which was celebrated by the US government as a vindication of Bush policy.

By buying up its own set of crane cameras, it seems Hezbollah has been somehow inspired by the rhetoric, championing a people power television strategy of its own.

This war's for you

Last week, a report in the Al Akbar newspaper indicated that the leader of Hezbollah, Sayed Hassan Nasrallah, whispered into the ear of released prisoner Samir Kuntar, "this war was fought for you" during a massive victory rally in the southern suburbs of Beirut. The BBC, perhaps unknowingly, has uploaded a video that documents this event. But it doesn't seem to be a whisper. We can hear Nasrallah quite clearly toward the end of the clip, seen here. Interestingly the BBC seems to have missed this detail, which is not mentioned in the text of the story. This is quite a contrast to the Lebanese press, where the "whisper" made headlines such as in this An Nahar report.

The remarks and the controversy surrounding them bring recent developments in Lebanon full circle. Despite the celebrations, the Lebanese continue to be deeply divided over Hezbollah's ability to control the country's fate militarily, especially since the July 2006 war.

Many say that Lebanon is now more powerful as a result of the recent prisoner exchange, which is seen as the ultimate symbol of victory from that war. Others, however, question the value of releasing one combatant at the cost of over 1000 Lebanese civilians who were killed during the fighting-- the lingering disagreement over which has brought the country close to civil war and wrecked the economy in the process.

Yearning for colonialism?

Naharnet, a pro-Western leaning Lebanese news site, is usually quite anxious in its condemnation of foreign forces exercising tutelage over Lebanon. Over the past few years, it has reported avidly on violations of Lebanese sovereignty, focusing largely on maneuvers by Syria and Iran and their local allies. (A headline on Naharnet once screamed "Hezbollahland" when describing the southern suburbs of Beirut.)

But in an article that appeared today, the editors of Naharnet appear to be abandoning their high horse of sovereignty by explicitly campaigning, it seems, for all-out French control over Lebanon. The article discusses French-Syrian-Lebanese relations, but instead of posting the contemporary Lebanese flag, the editors chose to dig up an image of the colonial flag used until the 1940s, when France ruled:



Or did they just think it was cute?

For those who would like to compare, here is an image of the flag that has been Lebanon's for over 60 years:

Lebanese fashion goes E.T.

Over the years, Lebanon has produced a fair number of fashion designers including Elie Saab, who is now a household name at Hollywood's red carpets. But when it comes to brands, few up and coming prodigies will be able to compete with Appolo 11 Fardous. That's right, Appolo 11 --his real first name--was recently featured on the local fashion program "Shou El Mouda" (What is the trend) aired on Lebanese channel New TV.


The host, needless to say, was highly intrigued.


Appolo, as she called him, explained that he was the eleventh child in the family and that his father was a fan of the space program. About half way through discussing his spring collection, she could not help but coming back to the name. Do you prefer "Appolo hedash" [in Arabic numbers] or simply "Appolo eleven" [in English]?

"Eleven", he replied soberly.

Fadous then stated he was a US citizen and hoped to expand his collection stateside in the near future.


The host made two observations of his work:

1. A love of colors...


and bows:




2: The obvious "liberal" audience intended for his wedding dresses:




Fadous agreed, saying that the gowns would 'naturally' be tailored to the tastes of conservative clients. In fact, Saudi and Kuwaiti princesses, who have enough cash to buy $100,000 plus dresses common in the Lebanese couture are among the most valued clients and, in effect, the lifeblood of the industry.

You can find more of Appolo's work at his website where the slogan is "Our design is an inspiration of Us"

Saint sponsorship?

In Lebanon, everything seems to be marketable, even potential sainthood. This wall ad is positioned along one of downtown Beirut's busiest intersections. It follows last week's beatification ceremony for Father Joseph Haddad, also known as Abouna Yaccoub. It is not clear what the relationship is between the Lebanese Canadian Bank (logo pictured left) and the bearded saint in waiting. Both appear to be enjoying the spotlight though.

The bank, like most in Lebanon, has performed exceedingly well and according to press reports, is now building a new headquarters on one of the most expensive plots in the city (the giant wall ad actually covers the perimeter of the construction site).


Father Yaccoub has also seen his stock grow recently. In the last two weeks his pictures have been plastered everywhere in Christian parts of the city, draping scores of billboards, bridges and even entire apartment buildings. The speed and budget of the campaign for the little known priest has rivaled that of the one created last month to promote the country's new President, Michel Sleiman.

The streets of Beirut don't discriminate. Whether priest, president or bank, all are welcome for the right price.

Beirut V.I.P.

War, peace, it doesn't really matter for Beirut. It's still a playground for the wealthy. This gargantuan yacht--helicopter included-- has been docked at the downtown marina for at least a week now. It apparently has two swimming pools, a gym and a spiral glass staircase, according to a post in the Buzberry blog.

The owner appears to be visiting Lebanon for an extended stay and doesn't mind the exuberant berthing fees or the opportunity cost of keeping a helicopter idle for so long. He/she obviously has a lot of "wasta" (connections) because private helicopters are almost never seen here, and this one is not likely to be taking off any time soon. (Lebanese aviation authorities have too many Israeli aircraft violating the skies to worry about private licensing, it seems.)

Here is a wide angle of the Marina, and the famed St. George Hotel. The yacht above is pictured right of center.



And here is another angle, with some of the more modest guests.

Beirut Hilton--take two

A piece of canvas barely conceals the sign for the new Hilton Hotel in downtown Beirut. A grand opening is planned for this month according to an industry report--and it's just in time. Lebanon is finally expected to have a peaceful summer. Thousands of tourists are reportedly on their way: flights are packed and accommodations are increasingly hard to come by. The country's beleaguered tourism industry is hoping for a major comeback after two consecutive summer conflicts.

If all goes according to plan, this will be the first Hilton to open its door in Beirut, but not the first built in the city. The original Beirut Hilton was built in the 1970s and scheduled to open just before the outbreak of the Lebanese civil war. Instead of a grand opening for tourists, the new hotel was overrun by militias who quickly turned the Hilton, the Intercontinental and the just-built Holiday Inn into bullet-riddled battle positions. By the early 1990s, the central part of town and its luxury establishments were gutted. When reconstruction began at that time, investors decided that the old Hilton, although never used, was beyond repair. A video of the demolition can be found here.

Today downtown Beirut is again poised to be hot destination on the Mediterranean. The new Hilton is flanked by a number of other luxury hotels and apartment towers that are quickly being readied for business.


Hopefully all the opening cermonies will go off without a hitch this time.

Living it up

A new air of optimism prevails in Lebanon today. And as is often the case after a Lebanese war (there have been about half a dozen over the past 50 years) the country is buzzing with excitement and carrying on with life as usual. The streets, recently crowded with political propaganda, have suddenly been switched back to mercantile mode:



Many of these ads replace giant posters of the new President, Michel Sleiman who had ordered his pictures taken down last week. The hope was that other politicians whose faces continue to dot the streets would make similar calls. Local advertisers, on the other hand, still see flag waving as an excellent marketing strategy.

Everyone seems to be catching the buzz, including the national brewery, Almaza:


The cell phone company, MTC Touch:


And Persil, a leading clothing detergent brand:



These massive ads are expensive high quality prints. Some cost tens of thousands of dollars to produce and install. But money seems to be no object for some firms.

Heeding the president's request, an advertising group known as THG almost instantly replaced this 10 story Sleiman poster it sponsored last month:



With this equally sized spot on the same building:



Wealth and creativity abound in Lebanon but I wonder how, and if, nation-building--which the country sorely lacks--can ever be made as lucrative as self-promotion.

Lebanese sitcom

One of the most popular shows in Lebanon is Basmet El Watan, literally, "the country has only died." In addition to being funny, the program also seems to possess psychic qualities.

This scene aired two months before fighting erupted in Beirut. It begins with a couple complaining about how bored they are with the country's night clubs. Never fear, the man says, 'the best soirée' happens at home. He proceeds to invite friends over and all sit around staring at the man for several minutes. Finally, sporadic gunfire is heard in the streets and he announces that the party has started. He asks his wife to confirm.


Party favors are distributed.







The fighting last May seemed to grow out of nowhere but late night shooting incidents have been a regular occurrence since the beginning of the year.

Spoof shows like Basmat El Watan can be more daring than local journalists, using humor to hint at issues that are considered taboo subjects.

Bus parking

This city bus may look like it's part of a stream of traffic, but its actually going nowhere.

There are no passengers and no driver.


Yet the keys are still in the ignition and the engine is on.


Some see the utter lack of traffic rules in Beirut as a chaotic nightmare. But others find the situation charming. Where else in the world can you park a bus in the middle of a lane on a narrow street, back up traffic for blocks, and leave the keys in the ignition?

Playboy and the Rosary

This scooter was parked across the street from a police station in Beirut a couple of nights ago. When I tried to take a picture, an officer sitting in a wooden sentry post outside the station took offense.
"You," he bellowed from his side of the street. "Stop taking photos!"
"Why?" I yelled back.
"It's forbidden," he said. "It belongs to the police."
But I like the 'playboy' emblem," I said.
"Doesn't matter. Photos of the police are forbidden," he said, adding a stern look.

A moment later, another officer standing outside noticed me. He was chit-chatting with a dozen camouflaged colleagues on the sidewalk near the sentry post.
"Hey, what are you doing!" he hollered in my direction. "That's my bike!"
"Can I take a picture of it," I yelled from my side of the street.
"Of course" he replied, trading a wincing look with officer in the sentry post who smiled boyishly, as if he had just scored some much needed attention from the others.

The scooter owner happily rushed over to my side of the street. "You like the playboy?" he asked proudly.
"Yes," I lied.
"Take as many photos as you like," he said, warning, "as long as you don't take a picture of the license plate." He repeated the last phrase for emphasis.

The Lebanese authorities have recently slapped a curfew on the use of scooters after dark. The fear is that young wild boys use them for late night trouble-making prowls that often become political and sectarian in nature. Obviously, the curfew does not apply to young officers.

A scoop of Doha

I saw this ad last night in front of the Haagen Daaz stand in downtown Beirut, which is now buzzing with pedestrian traffic. With its "Doha Agreement Cone" (as seen above) the American ice cream retailer is capitalizing on the recent truce signed by Lebanese politicians and former warlords upon the urging of the Qatari Emir in his country's capital. Haagen Daaz partnered with none other than Qatar Airways to offer the deal.



Does this mean the Emir can have his cone and eat it too?

Beirut boys gone wild

Here are some pictures I took during last night's festivities in downtown Beirut. In a bid to 'rejuvenate' the posh city center--after it had been occupied and thus economically suffocated for the last 17 months by the Hezbollah-led opposition-- rich downtown landowners and other wealthy corporations (i.e. the other side) organized a series of free concerts to stimulate activity in the area.


Thousands attended and performers included top-selling artists such as Rami Ayache, Fadel Shaker and Nancy Ajram, arguably the Arab world's biggest pop star.


What struck me though was the enormous amount of testosterone in the air. The male-female ratio was about 20:2 and those who attended were clearly not the crowd that was expected to spend money in downtown's trendy cafes and restaurants.


Yet the lack of the opposite sex didn't seem to be a problem for the young men who happily danced among themselves.



But revelry quickly gave way to rambunctiousness; pushing and shoving ensued, and the overall atmosphere verged on the aggressive.


They did not appear to be under any influences (alcohol or drugs), in fact many seemed religious: chants praising the Sayed Hassan Nassrallah often erupted spontaneously. They were not the "cool" ecstasy-taking wild of the privileged breed seen in the country's most expensive night clubs and concert venues; they were simply zealous in their machoism, as if they had been freed from oppressing circumstances. When I look back at the scene, it almost reminds me of a prison yard.

I was amazed at the speed in which they rushed to pose for photos.



If I could command so much wild enthusiasm with my tiny digital camera, I wondered how easy their unbridled energy could be harnessed with other incentives. A lucrative population indeed, especially for those with desire, and the means, to rally bodies for political gain.

Resume normal programing

After weeks of broadcasting war-mongering propaganda, Lebanese television stations have resumed their usual diet of music videos, soap operas and cure-all skin cream infomercials. Tasteless as he may seem, credit-card friendly "Dr. Kimaz" (above) is a welcome break from the vilification campaigns that filled the airwaves earlier this month, often supporting the physical battles that went on in the streets of Beirut.

To read more about the media's use as weapon during the conflict, see this article I wrote today for news website Menassat.

Red carpet election: Is the show over?

As we watched a series of foreign dignitaries step out of armored SUVs and Mercedes sedans at the Lebanese parliament today, one journalist remarked, "I feel like I'm at Cannes." Indeed, the red carpet was rolled out and scores of photographers elbowed over one another in paparazzi zeal hoping the dignitaries would turn their way for a good shot. "Mr. Solana!", "Mr. Kouchner!", "Mr. Erdogan!" the yelled desperately, in a reference the the EU foreign policy chief, French foreign minister and Turkey's prime minister as they walked up the parliment steps. Even Iraq's foreign minister, Hoshyar Zebari, showed up for the voting in of Lebanon's new president. "Maybe we should comment on what they are wearing," another reporter on the scene said.


Lebanese journalists have a reason to be skeptical. They have seen this all before: visits by foreign ministers, smiling politicians shaking hands with former enemies; hope springs eternal, but Lebanon's past is a bastion of unresolved differences and unsolved crimes that are likely to haunt its future. Chief among these is the string of assassinations over the past three years. Many wonder, will these acts of murder be swept under the rug, as had been done during numerous other occasions in Lebanese history?

Still, many average citizens are relieved. They are happy to have some semblance of peace in their lives. Even the journalists cheered and clapped as they watched the parliment speaker announce the country's new president. "I am happy, even if we don't have work," a local correspondent for a major Arab news network told me. "It's going to mean a lot more days off," she said smiling.

And although blocks of downtown were sealed off to keep security tight during the vote, we could still hear the crackle of machine gun fire as many of those who took over West Beirut last month also celebrated the occasion.

UPDATE: I've just spoken about the situation with CNN's Hala Gorani and posted more pictures on her blog. I told her that celebratory gunfire continued well into the night, raising the thorny issue of disarmament, which has been an illusive goal for successive Lebanese governments since the end of the civil war. Can the new president make a difference?

Sleiman mania

For some reason, the term 'overkill' has not worked its way into the Lebanese vocabulary. When a new leader arrives on the scene, logic goes that he must be celebrated ad nauseam. Today's leader au jour is army commander Michel Sleiman, as seen about a thousand times this morning on my commute from Mount Lebanon to Beirut. It included:

Sleiman in uniform.


Sleiman in a suit.


Sleiman on the bridges.

Sleiman, Sleiman...


Sleiman, Sleiman.

Two Sleiman's are better than one?


Or three?


Even gas stations caught the buzz.



So who had all the time and money to put up this glossy abundance of signage? The municipalities of greater Beirut apparently.


Filling crater-like pot holes that dot the country's roads or putting up street lamps to illuminate the dark and dangerous highways at night is clearly a second priority for these men in yellow trucks. It's far more important, it seems, to celebrate a leader who has barely made a single public policy speech and whose politics thus remain a complete mystery to most Lebanese.

I'm not saying he is a bad choice. Sleiman is credited with keeping the Army united as the country's politicians toyed with civil war. He is the 'consensus' candidate, loved by all, at least for now.

But his candidacy raises an inherent problem with Lebanese political culture. It is too often based on idolatry rather than issues, limited to stern looks or smiling faces over concrete policies and proposals. To succeed in Lebanese politics is to create a personality cult based on mythological strength rather than identifiable achievements.

Talking to a Hezbollah handyman

Hezbollah is associated with a lot of horrible things in the West, but few would attribute lane painting to the group. I took this photo this afternoon after observing several crews of the Hezbollah construction company Jihad El Bina busy in what they described as a mission to restore downtown Beirut to its former glory. They told me they would leave the posh district "in a better state" than they had found it after setting up a sprawling tent city here 17 months ago in an effort to paralyze the US-backed government.

I couldn't help but joke with the man in the photo above about the color of paint he was using. "Now come on," I said, "I'm sure this lane was painted blue before you guys moved in."

(Blue is the color of the pro-Western parties and yellow is Hezbollah's color)

He laughed and then asked me to join him for a cigarette break. I sat down on the floor and began to ask about his view of the situation. After a few minutes, he decided to show me a photo from his wallet to help put things into perspective. It wasn't a photo of his wife or children but rather a folded-up newspaper clipping of Hezbollah soldiers in marching formation. He pointed himself out as the third man on the right.

He had quite a few things to say in what developed as cordial conversation/lecture. I cannot confirm any of his claims but I will publish them here to provide a little insight into what at least some followers of the party think.

He said the following:

-The United States provided air support to Israel during the July 2006 war as evidenced by the large number of planes attacking Lebanese territory. (He said Hezbollah tracked over 500 aircraft while Israel has far less than that number)

-Hezbollah deployed only a small number of its troops during the recent take over of West Beirut. He said the group merely directed other militias to carry out the operation--meaning it had only exercised a fraction of its true strength.

-Hezbollah discovered large arms caches across Beirut, with weapons presumably supplied by the US government.

-Syria's negotiations with Israel are not intended to make peace, but merely to regain territory

-There will never be peace with Israelis, whom he accuses for being behind the string of assassinations in Lebanon.

-Peace in Lebanon will only last for two years at a maximum. After that, a regional war is likely to break out involving the usual suspects: USA, Iran, Israel, Syria.

Again, these are the views of one man on the street and certainly do not represent the views of the party or its members in general.

Here are some more of the guys fixing up the streets:

Clean up and move on?

Shockingly, the Lebanese leaders seem to have agreed and the most symbolic evidence of this is the end of the opposition's tent city, which stifled the economy of Beirut's posh downtown district for the last 17 months. As soon as the decision was announced, a horde of journalists descended upon the area, which had been virtually off limits to the press since 2006.


But though the opposition seems to handle crises well, they didn't seem to be prepared for a stampede of journalists. After about 20 minutes of a free-for-all, they began stopping us from filming (see man pointing at me in center).


For some reason, they didn't really want to share this scene with the rest of the world, but that proved difficult to enforce in the middle of the city, and journalists continued filming from the highway overpass, where they set up live shots and parked their satellite trucks.



As is usually the case in these acts of civil disobedience, Sukleen, the city's garbage company, was called in to help clean up the political mess.

But opposition campers asked them to cease and desist when they touched their refrigerators.

It appears the fridge was a "khat ahmar" or red line and the garbage collectors were asked to move on.

In the end however, it seemed to be a happy day for everyone, with many average Lebanese coming back downtown for the first time in months.


And with optimism in the air, shops restaurants that had been closed for over a year, began scrubbing down their dust-caked windows.

I overheard the manager of an Italian restaurant ordering spaghetti and new uniforms as he stood outside talking to a supplier. You've got to hand it to these shop owners, after sustaining nearly two years in lost revenue, they are ready to reopen in a couple of hours notice.

And even in the tent city, despite its cardboard shanty town look, the young activists still retained a sense of style, as seen here in this makeshift espresso stand, dedicated to the resistance.

A polite militia

A lot has been said about all the terrible things that happened in West Beirut last week: the burning of a TV station and newspaper office, the shooting up of buildings, the revival of civil war era turf boundaries, the list goes on and on. But few media reports have captured what appears to be a certain chivalry among at least some of the machine-gun toting men that temporarily ruled the capital's streets. In fact, most were really just boys, and many, aspiring students at the American University of Beirut (pictured above) and other nearby colleges.

The American university is situated in the heart of West Beirut, which during the temporary coup of sorts was largely governed by the Syrian Socialist National Party or SSNP. (The party's black and red flag is still visible in the image above, perched on a light post just above the center stone arch known as Main Gate).

The flag is intimidating enough--students and faculty are forced to pass under it on their way to and from class each day--but by many accounts, the party's members are not. Three reliable sources have described their experiences to me and I have personally dealt with the militants once myself during a rather animated exchange at a checkpoint. Here is a brief summary:

The first source is an American professor at AUB who was temporarily detained by the armed men after taking photographs of them during a lull in the shooting. "They were polite," he told me. "One of them described himself as a dental student." The professor said the boys had pulled him aside and asked why he was taking the photos. When he replied by saying that pictures of the militants were all over the news and the internet, the boys were stunned: "It was news to them," the professor said with a grin. The boys then asked him to delete any photos revealing their faces but assured him that he could keep all other photos. "They looked more scarred than me," he said. "They were tired. They just wanted to go home," he added.

A similar story was told by a friend who works for a major international organization. She had been dying to take a photo of one of the SSNP flags that was recently hung outside her house, but was too intimidated to do so due the presence of armed men constantly congregating around it. Finally, all was clear one morning and she went out to snap a picture. A few moments later she found herself surrounded by six men with scarves covering their faces. However her fears quickly evaporated when one spoke. "He was very well-mannered," she said, blushing slightly as she admitted he had 'nice eyes' and a soothing voice. Again, the militants only asked to see if the photos revealed faces. "We don't want to delete any other pictures you've taken," they told her, then added warmly: "We are very sorry to have bothered you."

My third account comes from another AUB professor, who enjoys his drink so much that he drove halfway across town late one night in search of an open bar, despite fresh gun battles. After having digested the fact that he was not joking about his desire to cross over to East Beirut for a glass of whiskey, three armed young men on scooters cordially advised him on a route around their checkpoint. It involved driving the wrong way down a one-way tunnel, they said, advising the use of hazard lights and honking.

Finally, my story. As I was driving home one night, I took a short cut through a West Beirut neighborhood. To my surprise, a narrow street that stood between me and my apartment was suddenly barricaded on both ends, a distance of less than 100 meters. Suddenly I was approached by a man in black with a walkie talkie. Before I could get a word out, he motioned to a couple of others who began pushing the plastic barricade out of the way. I sheepishly drove forward noticing a group of black-clad men seated in plastic chairs on my left starring as my car passed. A moment later, I pulled up to the next barricade at the opposite end of the block but this time the two men manning it scowled. At first they refused to make passage but suddenly the man at the other end of the road yelled out in Arabic "open it, let him through", and hesitantly, they began pushing barricades. I couldn't help but ask. I lowered my window and said: "Is this a new checkpoint?" An affable young man in his early twenties replied: "No, we've been here since the beginning--but we always let people pass who live in the area." But, how did you know I live here, I countered. He produced a broad 'i have my sources' smile. "Good people are always apparent," he said, with a slight wink.

I still wonder whether the men had actually kept tabs on my car, which I usually park on the street, or whether they were impressed by my beard, which had become quite thick during the week of street violence. In either case, they seemed rather trustworthy and decent, much to the contrast of their portrayals in the media.

Sleiman for president?

It seems the Lebanese politicians in Doha have agreed on at least one thing: elect Army general Michel Sleiman as president. Of course this is nothing new, lending credibility to those who see the talks as a waste of time. This is because both sides of the USA-Iran confrontation in Lebanon have already agreed to Sleiman months ago, they just cannot agree on a government. But interestingly, the opposition's hooded gunmen who overran West Beirut last week may have a different view, as seen in the tearing up of Sleiman posters above.

Here are some more souvenirs from last week's surprise attack/temporary coup:



I took these photos near Hamra, one of the many neighborhoods that was held by militants. The upper image is that of late prime minister Rafik Hariri. In the lower image, Hariri is spared but his son and sucessor is torn to shreds.

By desecrating the symbols of Sunni power in Beirut, opposition forces have crossed a 'red line 'in Lebanon's political mentality according to security expert Timur Goksel as quoted in this Jerusalem Post article.

The fear is that Sunnis will not stand for this kind of humiliation and may procure increased arms as a result.

Don't come back from Doha

As Lebanese politicians try to make peace in Qatar this weekend--or at least say they are trying to make peace--average citizens are fuming. They are utterly fed up with the performance of their so-called leaders over the past 3 years, which have seen a long list of assassinations and terrorist attacks that remain unsolved to this day, as well as two devastating wars that have wrecked the country for two consecutive summers. In the photo above (courtesy LA Times blog) some of the survivors of previous wars ask the leaders not to come back if they don't work out an agreement. But privately, many Lebanese say they wish the politicians never come back. In fact, those I have spoken to say they hope something terrible happens to all of them, either during their meeting in Doha or on the way back. The hatred people in this country have for their leaders is a sign of the failure of the Lebanese political system. In the 60 years since it was established, little progress has been made on the country's social and economic problems, and by and large, those participating in the system share the same last names as those who founded it.

“West Beirut” revival

For the past few days, many Lebanese have been using the term “West Beirut” as in easy way to define the mainly Sunni parts of the capital that came under the control of the opposition. The revival of this term is worrying because it conjures up memories of 1980s Beirut, where Christian militias held the east part of town and Muslim ones held the west, making travel between the two nearly impossible. In some ways, that East-West split was recreated thanks to the opposition’s ‘take over the streets with masked gunmen’ strategy. It gave many young Beirutis a taste of those bad old days, including a real “green line” separating the capital’s Christian and Muslim quarters. The picture above is from the Sodeco intersection, which delineates part of the line.

For those who grew up in the early 1990s, the green line was largely a legend of the past; an alien concept to the legions of college students who attend the American universities in West Beirut during the day and then party all night long in the night club districts of Monnot and Gemayze in the Christian areas. But over the past week, that simple act of driving five minutes across town suddenly became a labyrinth of roadblocks and armed men. I made the journey a couple of nights ago and it involved several winding detours and four roadblocks, only one of which was manned by army soldiers. Here’s a picture I took during the day of the biggest roadblock on the highway connecting Hamra (West Beirut) with Tabaris (East Beirut).


Unlike the civil war, the new green line was established following an agreement between Hezbollah and its Christian ally Michel Aoun, who noted recently on television that Christian areas would be sparred from the militants’ hostile takeover of Sunni parts of town. Thus West Beirut was redefined as the conflict zone, the arena for what the opposition called an act of civil disobedience, but what an actuality culminated in a bloody siege of the city under the power of rocket propelled grenades. Last night, the opposition began taking down its roadblocks, in a move they are now celebrating as a successful political pressure tactic on the pro-USA government. But by recreating the green line, they clearly also knew that they were playing with fire. If violence had spilled over into Christian areas—and taken on an added sectarian momentum—clashes could still be raging right now, not only in Beirut, but across the whole country.

Tonight the roadblocks are gone, but the Lebanese are still deeply worried about what tomorrow will bring.

Victory by bulldozer

In what would appear to be a shining moment in the history of the construction industry, road clearing suddenly became live breaking news across the Arab world today. For over half an hour, audiences around the region were gripped by the action: the methodical and utterly predictable motions of bulldozers picking up a load, hoisting it up into the air, releasing it into a dump truck and then repeating the cycle, over and over again. It was almost therapeutic. A bit of mundane earth removal (courtesy of Hezbollah) to seal a semblance of closure on a week of chaos.

In addition to the Lebanese Broadcasting Corp. or LBC (top photo), which carried a live shot of the airport road being unblocked, local station New TV also carried the event live, from a major Beirut intersection that has also been rendered inoperable by a series of sand berms.



Al Arabiya interrupted regular programing to carry the bulldozing:


As did Al Manar, the Hezbollah channel, which panned to show a shot of the Lebanese army standing by to observe the dirt removal. It seemed to be quite a show for the soldiers, who vied for space on the roof of their APC to get a good view:


And as usual, the temporary take over of the state proved to be a fun day for the whole family to enjoy:


But Al Manar TV had already claimed victory earlier today, noting that the Arab league delegation (headed by Qatar) visited opposition leader and speaker of Parliament Nabih Berri, before visiting the offices of the Prime minister and the Lebanese cabinet. As we can see in the photo below, the opposition leaders had put out fruit cocktails, a favorite in the Arab gulf, for their Qatari guests.


And although some may wonder why it is seemingly normal in Lebanon for a visiting government delegation to meet first with opposition politicians before greeting the head of the country's government, local viewers were probably just happy the lotto was back on tonight



As I type this, I can hear a plane landing at the airport, the first to do so in over a week. The streets of the city are slowly filling back up with traffic and I've seen some shoppers in Hamra, a major commercial area. Many are wondering: is this the new normal?

Back with a vengence

Future Television has just begun broadcasting again after several days of being shut down by opposition militants. Here, Nadim Munla (left), the station's general manager, speaks to Al Arabiya-- one of the biggest Arab news networks-- about the re-opening, which began yesterday afternoon. Al Arabiya and other local channels showed solidarity with Future TV by rebroadcasting the opening minutes of their resumed coverage, despite a problem with audio. In another show of continued support, anchors from other stations filled in with impromptu voice overs until the problem was resolved.

It seems Future is quite eager to get back on air, despite lingering sound problems. Judging by their new set, which showcases photos of militants attacking the channel, a fierce propaganda war is likely to unfold. For days now, Hezbollah's Al Manar has taken advantage of Future's closure by unveiling a sophisticated propaganda campaign that vilifies pro-Western politicians as traitorous spies (see previous post).

Future, which is owned by Saad Al Hariri, one of the wealthiest and most prominent of the pro-Western politicians is now fighting back. It has begun by airing snippets of fiery speeches by opposition leaders who vow that Hezbollah will never give up its weapons and offer utmost praise for Syrian president, Bachar Al Assad. One segment features an angry Future anchor shouting on the verge of tears about the damage done to the station and the 'barbaric' targeting of the press.


Future is now showcasing that damage in an interview with its head technician who gives a blow by blow account of how militants forced him at gunpoint to disable the station's brand new multi-million dollar electronic infrastructure system using crude wire cutters to sever cables. But the technician notes that militants clearly knew what they were doing, deploying a special team of broadcast engineers to complete the shutdown operation after ordering him out of the room.

The media war between Lebanese channels is not new, but is likely to reach unprecedented heights in the coming days, mirroring the volatile situation on the ground in Lebanon, despite the current lull in shooting and shelling.

As Future fights back, Hezbollah's channel is getting a boost from allied station, NBN, which has just aired what appears to be a cell phone video of a massacre that it says was perpetrated by Western-backed militias.


The video is powerful and sickening. It brings up the worst memories of the long list of massacres and counter massacres that took place in Beirut during the 1970s and 1980s.

In many parts of the world, technology is seen as a way to unite society, but in today's Lebanon it is being used more than ever to militarize the population and set the stage for hot-blooded revenge.

The 'new' Beirut

Here's a photo taken a couple of hours ago in Ain El Mreisse in what has once again become known as 'West Beirut'. The massive poster that has been ripped off an apartment building (center) was that of former prime minister Rafik Hariri and his son Saad Hariri.

For over a decade, the Hariris have been the biggest political force in the capital. Now many Lebanese are wondering what the new Beirut and the new Lebanon will mean for them.

On the other hand, opposition politicians seem to be basking in the airtime with speeches by lesser known figures such as former minister Talal Arslan (pictured below) carried live on every local channel as well as on major pan-Arab networks Al Arabiya and Al Jazeera.



In the past, Arslan had made occasional appearances on the evening news, but since the coup, his lengthy speeches have been carried live across the world on a regular basis.

Today, he has taken this newfound prominence a step further by calling on rival militias to hand their weapons over to him for safe keeping. Arslan also offered his version of the country's future: 'Beirut has and will be always belong to the resistance and the resistors,' he said.

Just before the speech a relative told me that checkpoints had been erected near the South, with armed men asking a veiled woman, "Shiite or Sunni" before allowing her to pass. I have also heard a radio report today which claimed the port of Jounieh--which, among other hastily erected ports during the 1980s was notorious for weapons shipments-- would soon reopen soon for "tourist" travel.

Will the new Beirut bring prosperity--as the opposition has promised--or will it be a flashback of the old and not really so 'new' at all?

Shelling stage

Since Thursday, most of the battles in this conflict have been fought with machine guns and the infamous "B7" bazooka. But today news reporters began adding the "106" to their jargon in a reference to 106 millimeter shells. See image below for reference (courtesy Australian military site).



These building-crushing mortars were introduced in today's intense clashes in the hills above Beirut (top photo) throwing up plumes of smoke and conjuring up images of house-to-house civil strife. According to Hezbollah television, the battle ended in a victory against the "militia of Jumblatt" one of the most prominent pro-American leaders. If the news is accurate, and most of what Hezbollah reports is, this battle will signal yet another victory in the ever-widening dominance of the group. Analysts featured on oppostion-friendly media, such as Iranian state television, say the move will usher in a new era of freedom and justice for all Lebanese. But those who have felt terrorized by masked gunmen and civil-war style violence over the last 72 hours are not sure the future seems entirely so bright.

Propaganda and the ominous long term

Fighting has subsided across parts of Lebanon tonight and the army is said to be "taking control" of west Beirut. But even if civil war has not fully materialized, many are saying that it has only been postponed. For one, the army has not reclaimed the streets but merely had the streets handed over to them by the opposition--which does not say much in the way of state authority. And even if the two sides are sincere in their calls for dialogue, they've managed to make stinging attacks on one another in the process. The situation remains unpredictable and it's difficult to see the wounds healing any time soon, particularly with the vilification campaigns that have been going on in the media.

The screen shot above is taken from Hezbollah's Al Manar. As explosions rock the city, the station's video editors seem to have been busy at work on a series of propaganda clips that bring the demonization of pro-Western politicians to new heights. Pictured above is Druze leader Walid Jumblat (left) meeting with US Assitant Secretary of State David Welch (center). The video is slowed down for effect and framed by a shadowy dark filter. Others in the series include Prime Minister Fouad Siniora meeting with Condoleezza Rice and an Israeli manufactured hand grenade allegedly found among the weapons of pro-government militants.




Of course pro-Hezbollah leaders like Nabih Berri have had their share of photo opportunities with the Americans, but the last image implies a far more sinister allegation. The thought that Israel is sending weapons to Lebanese parties, whether authenticated or not, could signal an inevitable confrontation, a "new dimension" to the power struggle, as Nasrallah has warned.

It is not clear how or when the pro-Western parties will react to the charges. On a media level, their assets have been frozen, for now. But on Saturday, in a show of defiance, a large crowd of journalists gathered outside the offices of pro-government Future Television, which was been forced off the air during the siege of the city by opposition militants. Station employees eventually entered the newsroom and made statements to the press but were not allowed to go back to work.

Popular talk show host Zaven Kouyoumdjian, a soft-spoken 'Dr. Phil' of sorts, made a telling statement to one media outlet on the scene.


"I've never been sectarian," he told local channel New TV. "But I've realized that in Lebanon, to be strong, you need to be sectarian," he said. "Today, I am sectarian."

The triumph of reality TV

While deadly street battles raged across Lebanon on Friday, a studio audience gathered in the hills above Beirut to watch a live broadcast of "Star Academy", one of the country's biggest reality shows. The program, aired on LBC, opened with a patriotic song by pop sensation Carol Samaha--pictured above speaking to the show's host. When asked to comment on the situation, Samaha (in black) was careful to avoid politics. "What is there to say," she said, before exiting stage left with a smile.

As the evening progressed, RPGs exploded in the Shouf mountains and civil war seemed imminent. The live show meanwhile, featured a choreographed 'women in leather and chains' dance:


Hundreds showed up to watch, even as casualties piled up and Lebanon's future hung in the balance.


Normally, "Star Academy" faces fierce competition from "Superstar" the Arab version of "American Idol" But that show never aired because its carrier, Future Television, remained blank throughout the night after being shut down by militants loyal to the Hezbollah-backed opposition, who continue to control the city.

On the other hand, Hezbollah's TV channel, Al Manar, aired a painfully over-dramatic Syrian soap.


Winning the street war may have seemed easy, but the opposition is still far behind in the prime time arena.

Militia logic returns

Here are some television pictures from Lebanon's New TV which has reported this to be exclusive footage of the takeover of Future Television this morning. It appears to be a well-coordinated and strategic attack on the infrastructure of the Hariris, a prominent Sunni family that owns the station and heads the majority bloc in parliament. The station is now off the air and militants have also set fire to a newspaper owned by the Hariri family, known as Al Mustaqbal. A second TV station owned by the group--a 24 hour news channel-- has also been taken off the air, culminating in a three-pronged strategy to shut down the communication network of Hariri's pro-USA Future Movement. Here's what one of the channels looked like after the attack, displaying "no signal" in the upper right corner:


The top image of black-clad militants holding down a rooftop is eerily reminiscent of 1970s Beirut, when militiamen first took up positions in high rise buildings. One man even points a bazooka at the notorious Holiday Inn, which remains a battered shell from the previous civil war. The two gave journalists from New TV a tour of their bounty.



They carry the flag of the Amal party--attached to backpack on the left.


Amal is allied to Hezbollah and both parties are vehemently opposed to the Hariris' relationship with the West. They say the US has pressured the Hariri government to attack Hezbollah and thus claim their existence has been threatened. But a spokesman for the opposition movement, which is led by Hezbollah, has warned that Hezbollah itself has yet to deploy its well trained troops on the streets of Beirut. This lends credibility to the theory that the opposition is using merely this street war as a symbolic show of force, that its militants are so well armed that even its smaller groups like Amal can defeat the pro-Western Sunnis. If anything, today's events have proved this to be true. Despite fierce rocket and machine gun fire exchanges that continued throughout the night, the Sunni militants have failed to protect their most valuable communications assets. It is a devastating blow and if the intent was short-term muscle flexing, the consequences are likely to be long term tensions and a burning desire for revenge.