Don't Blame Syria – Lebanon's Leaders Are Fuelling The Fighting In Tripoli

Political leaders in Lebanon have long seen the benefits of maintaining well-equipped militias in Tripoli to fight their corner

By Patrick Galey


Lebanese army troops deploy in Bab al-Tabbaneh, one of two rival neighbourhoods in the northern Lebanese city of Tripoli, to order battling gunmen off the streets. Photograph: Joseph Eid/AFP/Getty Images

The ongoing fighting in the northern city of Tripoli between Sunni and Alawite militias is among the worst witnessed by Lebanon for several years. And, in a nod to their shared past and intertwined present, whenever security in Lebanon is discussed, the mention of Syria is never far behind.

No surprise, then, that this week's Tripoli fighting has been reported as the inevitable progeny of the violence that has divided Syria and is now finally spilling over into Lebanon. The logic is not necessarily unsound, given Syria's historic tutelage, and given that Lebanon's political heavyweights – and, by extension, its people – are mortally divided over Bashar al-Assad. If you ask the fighters themselves, they tell you that their actions are derived either from love or loathing for the Syrian leader.

There is no doubt that the effect of Syria's tumult is being felt in Lebanon. From the alleged arms ships impounded by Lebanese authorities to the cross-border killings of citizens, to the mining of their shared northern frontier, the nature of Lebanese-Syrian relations has already led to several violent repercussions within Lebanon. But with its complicated sectarian, political and ideological divides, blaming Syria for the deaths of at least nine and the wounding of more than 100 in Tripoli over the past week is to overlook more than three decades of resentment in Lebanon's second city, as well as the conditions that have allowed such rancour to foment.

The Tripoli fighting has centred on the mainly Sunni Bab al-Tabbaneh district and Jabal Mohsen, home to the same Alawite minority to which Assad belongs. These two were once one area of a relatively prosperous Tripoli, fuelled by income from its port. But by the time Lebanon's civil war broke out in 1975, Bab al-Tabbaneh and Jabal Mohsen had split, following political upheavals and ideological cleaves between Arab nationalism, Islamism, Unionism, the Palestinian struggle and – yes – Syria.

As proxy battles continued to rage, northern leaders soon realised the advantage of maintaining well-equipped militias to keep Tripoli an unofficial war zone throughout the decades. At the end of the war, most militias were supposed to hand in their weapons. Few did, but fewer still kept their arms deployed in such close proximity to rival groups as occurred in Tripoli.

The resulting flare-ups have been carefully managed by sectarian leaders and have helped maintain the real reason why Tripoli is such a hotbed for hostility. For behind all of Syria's influence in Lebanon, and underneath a past of political manipulation, the true cause of Tripoli's violent present lies in the city's appalling neglect. The figures speak for themselves. Close to 40% of all Lebanon's poor live in Tripoli or the surrounding areas. More than half of Tripoli residents are classed as either "poor" or "extremely poor." Of those families who live in the trouble hotspots of Bab al-Tabbaneh and Jabal Mohsen, 82% live on less than the equivalent of £336 per month. Illiteracy and unemployment rates in the city are way above the national average.

While it is true that all areas of Lebanon have suffered in recent decades as the country attempts to recover from its civil war and subsequent conflicts, Tripoli residents have endured special hardship. Compared for example to parts of southern Beirut and the south, where inhabitants worst affected by Hezbollah's 2006 war with Israel have had their homes rebuilt and infrastructure improved, the people of Tripoli receive precious little by way of financial support from either state or private sponsors.

That is not to say Tripoli has been forgotten by power holders in Beirut. Parties are more than happy to arm partisans in the area and encourage them to "defend" themselves against rival sects. Allowing poverty to continue to disrupt the lives of residents is the best way, apparently, to ensure militia loyalty. Leaders paint themselves as saviours to their supporters (who believe them) and pump in arms and vitriol to vulnerable areas to provide the semblance of security for poor groups.

In turn, the residents of Bab al-Tabbaneh and Jabal Mohsen, grateful for the sense of safety that arms given to them can provide, continue to have little to do other than use them. They fight because they rely on the nominal support of politicians who claim to look after their interests. Each group of fighters is directed to defend their neighbourhoods from the other when their deployment is little more than a ploy to maintain ground won over decades of violence.

The proximity of Tripoli's rival neighbourhoods is often cited as some sort of metaphor for Lebanon and its grudges. In fact, Tripoli is close to unique in the way its citizens continue the fights they first picked in the 1970s. And it is Lebanon and its negligent political establishment, not Syria, that is fuelling them.

-This commentary was published in The Guardian on 18/05/2012
- Patrick Galey is a reporter based in Beirut, Lebanon, writing on security, environmental and social development issues