Like hundreds of Lebanese people, I broke lockdown to witness a desperate protest against hunger

For those rallying on the streets of Tripoli, the certainty of dying from starvation is far more pressing than the probability of contracting coronavirus, says Bel Trew

Lebanese protesters hurl rocks at soldiers in the northern port city of Tripoli (AFP)

What happens when the odds are that you’re more likely to die of hunger than catch and perish from Covid-19? How do you make that calculation, and what do you do about it?

Over the past two months, since I moved to Beirut, that irresistible veneer of “we thrive despite everything thrown at us” has been scratched off the surface of Lebanon. A tidal wave of economic collapse – one that loomed large on the horizon last October, triggering an uprising – has finally crashed over its shores.

The Lebanese authorities have admitted at least three-quarters of the six million or so who live in Lebanon now rely on aid to survive. Among the worst hit are those in the country’s second largest but most impoverished city, Tripoli, in the north. Residents who simply cannot afford to eat have poured into the streets over the last few weeks, despite coronavirus lockdowns still being officially in place.

Previous protests have been met with teargas, rubber bullets and even live ammunition from the security forces, who on 27 April shot and killed 26-year-old Fawwaz Fouad al-Seman. Enraged and desperate crowds have firebombed banks and ATMs.

Despite the lockdown, I travelled to witness the latest rally in Tripoli on Sunday – and the resounding message was that the certainty of dying from hunger was far more pressing than the probability of contracting the virus. And so social distancing went out the window. The anger, stoked by the death of Fawwaz, was white hot.

The Lebanese people are demanding solutions, but they have little faith in the ruling elite. Lebanon has witnessed just 740 confirmed Covid-19 cases and 25 related deaths, according to official data. A strict lockdown shuttering the airport, borders and businesses appears to have successfully flattened the curve.

But while this temporarily kept protesters off the streets, it has only piled more pressure onto households and the fragile economy battered by decades of chronic mismanagement, corruption and dwindling foreign investment. Hyperinflation has meant that supermarkets have stopped putting price tags on products because they rise every day. The value of the local currency tanks every week.

The government has tried to present a rescue package and made a formal request to the International Monetary Fund for help, but households need urgent assistance right now.

With Lebanon’s lockdown gently easing off, there will likely be more people taking to the streets. Perishing hunger, not the pandemic, will be at the forefront of their minds.

Yours,

Bel Trew

Middle East correspondent