by David Zenian
The Lebanese civil war has entered the history books and the battle for a new and better future is in full swing, but despite the massive reconstruction, it will take time before the country once known as the Switzerland of the Middle East will regain its old luster.
"It's pay-back time. We destroyed so much while the rest of the Middle East moved forward. We have a lot of catching up to do," said Lebanese newspaper editor Issa Ghorayeb.
Before the hostilities began in 1975, Lebanon enjoyed a long period of rapid growth and financial stability. But by the 1980's Beirut was synonymous with danger, and the image of chaos was so pervasive that "war torn Beirut" had become a cliché.
But no longer.
Bulldozers, and not mortar shells, are bringing down old buildings in downtown Beirut, and construction crews have replaced the militias which once brought death and destruction to the city.
A 1.8 billion dollar development project is well under way to rebuild the 400-acre downtown Beirut.
The U.S. Commerce department, in a recent guide to Lebanon, said the country "has great potential as a market for an almost unlimited range of U.S. goods."
Things have changed and security has improved so much that earlier this year, after considerable debate, U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright lifted all restrictions on Americans traveling to Lebanon.
Those flying into Beirut these days land at Beirut's new International Airport, where arriving passengers are greeted with small cups of Arabic coffee-and a lot of smiles.
Driving through Beirut, they cannot miss some of the more familiar names of American culinary culture like Kentucky Fried Chicken, I Can't Believe It's Yogurt, Planet Hollywood and Baskin-Robbins. Beirut also boasts not one, but two Hard Rock Cafés.
A new Marriot Hotel is now open for business, and the Hilton and Holiday Inn will soon follow. At least 48 U.S. companies have representative offices in Lebanon.
But they are run by local Lebanese, in part because Americans are still reluctant to travel and work in Lebanon.
The U.S. travel restrictions were put into place in 1985. That was 10 years into a war which killed an estimated 170,000 people, wounded more than 300,000 and displaced over 800,000, in a country roughly the size of Connecticut with a population of a little over 3 million.
Material damage was estimated at 25 billion dollars.
The fighting ended in 1990 when all the rival factions agreed to a peace proposal engineered by neighboring Syria, the main power-broker in Lebanese politics.
Since its appointment in 1992, the government of Prime Minister Rafik Hariri has put the country on the road to recovery.
The gross domestic product (GDP) has grown 80 percent since 1990 and the per capita income has shot up from less than 1,000 dollars in 1990 to an estimated 3,000 dollars.
But despite the impressive progress, substantial difficulties remain.
"Lebanon has always been proud of its middle class. That is gone now. What we have today is a very small rich class while the majority of population is poor. Not everything that shines is gold, and we should not be fooled by appearances," Ghorayeb says.
True, reconstruction of the Beirut city center is in full swing. The old Saint George Hotel-a pre-civil war landmark-is being repaired along with the other burnt out hotels in the city. New roads are opening along with bridges and tunnels to help the city's chronic traffic jams.
But for ordinary Lebanese citizens, the millions of dollars being spent on reconstruction have had little impact on their standard of living.
Lebanon's labor force today includes hundreds of thousands of transient workers-some say as many as one million-from neighboring Syria and countries as far away as Sri Lanka, who live on the construction sites and spend a fraction of their earnings for food but nothing else.
"The government is building new bridges, tunnels and highways, but these are feeding the foreign workers who send nearly all their earnings to their home countries. Millions of dollars leave Lebanon every day instead of being re-cycled into the national economy," a Lebanese financial analyst said.
"Once all the construction is over in the next few years, we will have a new city center, but is this all we need to do to boost the Lebanese economy," he asked.
Critics of the government also point out to the more than 150,000 empty apartments in the greater Beirut area.
"There was a construction boom in the private sector after the fighting ended. But the facts have not substantiated the expectations. There is a serious crisis in the housing sector today. Apartments are vacant because people cannot afford them, and at this rate, they will not be filled for a very long time," another economist said.
When the civil war started in 1975, the exchange rate for the Lebanese Pound was three to the U.S. Dollar. Today it is 1500 to the greenback. Education was affordable, and so was healthcare. Rents were reasonable, and even a simple bank clerk or a school teacher could save enough for a two week vacation in Europe.
Inflation was a word seldom used in the Lebanese vocabulary. There was poverty, but only among the fringes of the population.
"We were doing fine," says Um Waleed, a refugee from south Lebanon. "I cleaned houses and sent my boy to the university. Even a bank manager will find that difficult today."
University tuitions have skyrocketed in recent years. According to available records, more than 760 Armenian students were enrolled in the various Lebanese colleges and universities in 1988. That number is less than 300 today.
The 1997-98 graduating classes of the American University of Beirut included only handful of Armenians -- a drastic decline from a decade ago.
"Financial considerations are preventing Armenian students from getting a higher university education where tuitions are anywhere between 8,000 and 20,000 dollars per year -- far beyond the reach of the average Armenian family," said Dr. John Khanjian, President of Haigazian University, the only Armenian institute of higher learning.
Haigazian University , where 58 percent of the student body is Armenian, allocates 290,000 dollars a year for scholarships to help needy students.
"We are doing everything we can to help Armenian students get a university education," Khanjian said.
"What is preventing the Armenian students from getting a university degree is not the poor standard of education in the Armenian secondary schools. On the contrary, the standards are fine, but there is no money," he said.
An official survey of the recent graduating class of one Armenian high school indicated that out of the seven students who were admitted to the American University of Beirut, only one was able to enroll.
"The others could not afford the high tuition," said Jirair Tanielian, principal of AGBU's Hovaguimian-Manougian Tarouhi-Hagopian schools which have one of the highest success rates in the standardized government exams qualifying students for university admission.
"We are constantly adapting to the new government requirements," he said.
Help to the Armenian schools in the moderniztion process, which includes a government-dictated curriculum for all private and public schools, is coming from a special teacher training program coordinated by Mireille Khanamirian, herself a mother of three young children and wife of a former member of the Lebanese Parliament and government.
Working closely with a leading Lebanese publishing house, she has set up dozens of seminars for Armenian teachers along with special classes to familiarize teachers with the changing curriculum.
"We cannot leave our Armenian teachers behind. We will do everything to help them adapt to the upcoming changes to keep our standard of education as high as possible," she said.
But adapting to changes is not enough.
It is no secret that the collapse of the Lebanese economy in the aftermath of the civil war has had a profound effect on the country's once-prosperous Armenian community.
The Armenians of Lebanon, which once numbered over 250,000, are going through their worst days since the 1975 civil war. Thousands of families do not have enough money to pay for their children's tuitions. It is not uncommon to see parents putting their teenage and younger children to work to supplement the family income.
Their numbers have also dwindled to less than 150,000.
According to church records, of the 250 registered weddings in 1997, around 40 percent were mixed marriages, a new phenomenon for the Armenian community.
"In some ways our problems are by far worse than during the civil war years, and they are getting more and more complicated every year," said a social worker involved with community affairs in Bourj Hammoud (west Beirut) where the largest concentration of Armenians live.
"Government statistics show that a family of four needs at least 700 dollars just to make both ends meet, but for the vast majority of people, income is not more than 300 dollars a month," another social worker reported.
The rapidly declining wealth of the community has forced thousands of people to seek help from a number of social service agencies which once catered to poorest of the poor.
The Karagheusian Center, located in the heart of Bourj Hammoud, focuses on the Armenian family as a whole, from its basic medical needs to all forms of social assistance programs.
"Our work load has skyrocketed in recent years. The economic recession has produced a very un-Armenian behavior. Despite their reluctance, hundreds of people are coming here for help, something which they used to avoid except in extreme cases," said Rev. Robert Sarkissian, the Director of the Center since 1970.
"Every year, our medical doctors examine close to 9,000 Armenian school children. The checkups include eye exams, dental care, hearing tests, and vaccinations for tuberculosis. We also have a school that prepares practical nurses, along with special classes for young mothers that concentrate on child care, hygiene and motherhood in general.
"We are trying to put a smile on their faces. We want them to be proud and well rounded young mothers," he said.
Rev. Sarkissian, like dozens of others involved in social work in the Armenian community, says the socio-economic condition of the community is far worse than the pre-civil war years.
"The vast majority of Armenian families living in this region cannot afford their medical bills. They have no money to send their children to school, and those who send their kids, cannot pay. The situation is getting worse every day," he said.
At the Karagheusian clinic, patients pay a nominal fee, which is often less than five dollars, for a checkup or dental work.
The Center has an annual budget of 400,000 dollars and a staff of 50 doctors, nurses, social workers and family counselors.
The Karagheusian Center is not alone on the arena.
The Armenian General Benevolent Union's Clinic which was established in 1939, and is one of the oldest in the city, provides much-needed medical services -- including dental -- to the needy Armenian families in one of west Beirut's poorest neighborhoods.
In the same area, the Armenian old age home cares for 150 people, which is subsidized mainly through the home's 500,000 dollar annual budget. Officials say only five of the elderly pay 400 dollars a month "which is not even a drop in the bucket when it come to our costs."
Not far from there, is the modern multi-story Araxy Boulgourdjian Socio-Medical Center of the Armenian Relief Cross of Lebanon.
Since it first opened its doors in 1987, the Center has served more than 796,000 cases, an average of 255 per day. The center has a full-service pharmacy, laboratory, a radiology, public health, and dental department along with emergency services.
The Center also organizes public-health related seminars, and has first aid and sex education training programs which attract large numbers of not only experts but also members of the general public.
Few people understand the problems facing the Armenian community as much as Haig Tilbian, a social worker who serves on several community boards including the AGBU.
"The Armenian neighborhood of Bourj Hammoud, which during the civil war and the years that followed the fighting, was the only active shopping district in west Beirut. But today, businesses in Bourj Hammoud are closing faster than anywhere else. Hardest hit are the small businesses and the bat is also hitting the larger ones too. Layoffs are a daily routine. Armenians once monopolized the shoe industry, and that is gone now mainly because of cheap imports. Light industry, a long-time Armenian forte, is dying or dead," he said.
In Lebanon today, the minimum wage is between $166 per month to $266 per month. A university graduate, if he finds a job, makes 500 dollars.
The economic hardships are for everyone, but confidence in Lebanon is growing and it is only be a matter of time when the reconstruction of today and the dividends of a lasting peace will help Lebanon regain its old status in the Middle East.
