Khazen

In this Tuesday, Nov. 15, 2016 photo, a waste management worker cleans Beirut's Ramlet al-Baida shore, Lebanon. Ramlet al-Baida is an outlet for locals and foreigners who can't pay for Lebanon's expensive private beaches. But a new luxury development project is set to turn its southern corner into another exclusive alcove. (AP Photo/Hassan Ammar)

The last public beach on
Beirut’s heavily developed seaside could soon be squeezed out by yet
another luxury resort, raising fears that residents could find
themselves living in a coastal city without much of a coast.

The fight for Ramlet al-Baida beach has emerged as a
new flashpoint between civil society activists and the entrenched
political establishment over land management and public services in
Lebanon’s capital. It follows last year’s trash crisis, in which
mountains of garbage piled up for months, and a conflict over a local
park that until recently was only open one day a week.

Activists say the Eden Rock Resort development,
greenlighted by the city’s governor in September, is the first step to
transforming the city’s last public beach into yet another exclusive
resort.

“If this is how Beirut is going to be, then tomorrow,
we’re going to be sitting in a cage,” said Nazih al-Raess, the
custodian of the beach’s public swimming zone. “The people who have
money will be able to go out to smell the breeze and the people who
don’t … will be buried at home.”

The project has rekindled debate in this intensely
stratified city over who has the right to its shrinking green spaces and
shores. Many of Beirut’s well-to-do have turned up their noses at
Ramlet al-Baida — or pinched them, as the case may be — as municipal
authorities have allowed sewage to pollute its once azure waters and
white sands.

The new project would feature chalets on a terraced,
green slope that opens onto a narrowed strip of the remaining beach,
according to illustrations by the developer. A crescent-shaped marina
would be anchored off the coast.

Older residents recall a time when they could slip
into the sea from Karantina, Normandy, and Rouche, before the onset of
the 1975 Civil War. Those outlets have long since been devoured by an
expanded port, a marina, resorts and pricey restaurants.

“Where are we supposed to unwind?” said Samer
Ballout, a stocky 35-year-old civil servant who was meditating on the
beach. “I’ve been swimming and running here since I was young.”

Most beach clubs now charge at least $20 for day
access. Some have been caught on camera turning away African or Asian
visitors, while others openly bar low-income Lebanese patrons.

In May, a grassroots movement that campaigned on a
platform of protecting the city’s public amenities surprised the
political establishment by capturing 40 percent of the vote at the
municipal polls.

Beirut Madinati — which translates to Beirut, My City
— did not win any seats on the municipal council owing to the
election’s winner-take-all formula, but they carried their momentum into
meetings with officials. Shortly after the election, it and affiliated
groups convinced Beirut Gov. Ziad Chebib to open the city’s only park, a
pine tree reserve, on a daily basis. It was previously only open on
Saturdays.

A similar public campaign compelled Chebib to order
the Eden Rock Resort project be put on hold in June. He demanded an
explanation for how restrictions on the property deeds prohibiting
construction on some of the plots had been scrubbed. But in September,
he allowed the project to go ahead.

Earlier this month, a local resident posted a video
on Facebook of heavy equipment pouring concrete into a basin dug into
the Ramlet al-Baida shore. Civic groups mobilized a small crowd to march
to the site, where the demonstrators twice scuffled with hired help
working for the developer, Achour Development.

The demonstrators included many of the standouts from
last year’s You Stink campaign, which brought thousands of Lebanese
into the streets to protest endemic corruption and the trash crisis. The
crisis remains unresolved, with untreated garbage filling landfills on
the edge of the city, occasionally sending a suffocating stench into
some neighborhoods.

Achour Development declined to comment on the
protests, saying only that it has the required permits. Chebib maintains
that the plots marked for Eden Rock are privately owned and the
developer has the right to build on them. He also declined a request for
comment.

Lawyers are meanwhile building a case against the permit, citing a host of irregularities they say the governor overlooked.

“We have aerial photos showing this area used to be
below the shore line, so it’s not possible for it to be private
property,” said Wasef Harakeh, a lawyer and activist who helped organize
the protests, citing a French Mandate-era law that protects the coast.

Ballout, the civil servant who has been enjoying the beach as long as he can remember, said he couldn’t support the project.

“I’m not opposing this for my own good, I’m opposing
this for the good of my children. And the people without money, where
are they going to go?” he said.