Lebanese authorities are mounting their most aggressive campaign yet for Syrian refugees to return home, taking action to ensure they can't put down roots.
Mirroring the rise of anti-migrant sentiment in Europe and around the world, some in Lebanon say that after eight years of war in neighboring Syria, they have had enough of the burden of hosting the highest concentration of refugees per capita in the world – 1 million amid a Lebanese population of nearly 5 million – especially at a time when they are facing austerity measures and a weakened economy.
Anti-refugee sentiment in Lebanon has waxed and waned in the past. Resentment over past domination by Syria and concerns over the refugees' impact on their country's delicate sectarian balance have played a role in anti-refugee sentiment. Nevertheless, there are those who are still sympathetic to the refugees' plight given their own experiences of own displacement during Lebanon's long civil war.
But this time, Foreign Minister Gebran Bassil, a rising star in the country's political scene has latched onto the issue. Bassil has argued Syrians should return home, saying the "genetic distinction" of the Lebanese will unite them to confront the refugee issue.
During one rally organized by Bassil's party and held under the slogan "Employ a Lebanese" earlier this month, protesters chanted, "Syria get out." Some attempted to storm a Syrian-run shop, sparking a scuffle. Posters have popped up on the streets and online calling on residents to report any Syrian working in Lebanon without a permit.
The tensions point to how a backlash in host countries burdened by intractable refugee situation can intertwine with local politics. The number of displaced worldwide has swelled to record levels, with the UN refugee agency on Wednesday noting 71 million people had been uprooted from their homes this year.
"Out of this grim number, Lebanon stands out as the country that has the highest number of refugees per capita," said Mireille Girard, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees representative in Lebanon.
"It is a huge responsibility that Lebanon is shouldering, and the whole world has to show solidarity with the countries that are in the front of refugee flow."
Bassil's allies in the government have begun enforcing laws that up until now had rarely been implemented, shutting down shops owned by or employing Syrians without permits and ordering the demolition of anything that could constitute a permanent home in refugee camps.
Meanwhile, the refugees are trying to weather the storm.
In the town of Arsal near the Syrian border, where 60,000 refugees live in informal camps set up in the fields, Syrians have been tearing down brick and concrete walls they had added to their shacks of canvas, sheet metal, and plastic in an attempt to make them able to withstand the harsh winters in the mountainous area. The military gave them until July 1 to remove any wall taller than waist high.
The Syrians said no matter how much authorities squeeze them, they have no choice but to stay.
"They think a concrete block is what's keeping us here?" one woman, Um Hassan, asked angrily. She said she can't go back because her sons would be drafted into the Syrian military if she did. She said the demolition order meant that her family had been sleeping without a roof over their heads for over a week.
Despite receiving aid for years, 51% of Syrian refugee families survive on less than $3 a day and 88% of those households are in debt. Of more than 660,000 school-aged Syrians in Lebanon, 54% are not enrolled in formal education, and an estimated 40% are not involved in any kind of certified schooling.
Despite receiving $6 billion in foreign aid, many Lebanese complain the flood of refugees has overwhelmed local schools and the already debilitated infrastructure, increased rents and forced Lebanese to compete with cheap Syrian labor. Some are resentful of the aid stipends some Syrians receive, noting they don't pay taxes and often work illegally as well.
Critics say that in a year set to see austerity measures imposed on Syria, politicians are using the Syrians as a scapegoat for a damaged economy and endemic corruption.
"The Lebanese public is frustrated and ... wants anything to dump all their anger on. So who is the weakest? The refugee," journalist Diana Moukalled said.
Bassil is the leader of the largest Christian party in parliament and the government and the son-in-law of the country's president. He has been mobilizing a popular base and boosting his credentials as the prime protector of Christians, some believe with the aim of one day replacing his 84-year-old father in law, President Michel Aoun.
He has popularized the term "Lebanon above all," while warning of an "international conspiracy" to settle Syrians in Lebanon, in a reference to the influx of Palestinian refugees who fled the 1948 War of Independence, upsetting Lebanon's sectarian balance. Armed Palestinian factions were a key factor in the 1975-1990 Lebanese Civil War. After decades in Lebanon, the Palestinians' numbers have dwindled to about 175,000. They live in squalid camps with no access to public services, no rights to ownership or protections and limited employment opportunities.
While pushing at home for the implementation of anti-refugee laws, Bassil has also lobbied overseas for increased aid to Lebanon and an organized return of Syrians to their country of origin.
"The one who speaks of refugees returning is not a racist or a fascist, and those accusing us of racism either benefit [from the issue] or are conspirators," he said during a recent conference.
Bassil's ally, Hezbollah, has backed Assad's government in the fight against rebels in Syria. Bassil's political opponents – among them Christian parties and the main Sunni Muslim party led by Prime Minister Saad Hariri – have sided with Syria's opposition. Hariri has called Bassil's rhetoric "racist," and the prime minister and his allies have pushed back against his campaign.
At a recent rally in Beirut, politicians, activists, and Syrians held up banners against hate speech. Paula Yacoubian, an independent Armenian Christian politician at the rally, called the campaign to "dehumanize" refugees irresponsible.
"This is destructive and, even if it brings someone popularity for now, in the long run, it is very harmful, for Lebanon and the Lebanese first of all," she said.
Nasser Yassin, a professor of public policy at the American University of Beirut, said he doesn't believe there will be a widespread public backlash against the refugees. But the rise of similar sentiments around the world makes it harder to challenge.
"If Europe is actually violating human rights when it comes to pushing people trying to cross the Mediterranean back to the Libyan militias, they will turn a blind eye or [be] silent when the Lebanese government is applying it," he said.
The campaign, however, goes beyond political rhetoric.
Local vigilantes recently set fire to three tents in a refugee camp in the eastern town of Deir al-Ahmar, and one person was wounded in a scuffle between Syrians and Lebanese firefighters that ensued. The municipality then issued an eviction order, forcing 400 Syrians to move their tents to a new spot.
In a possible violation of its international obligations, Lebanon in April deported at least 16 Syrians, including some registered as refugees, after they arrived at Beirut's airport. Human Rights Watch and other rights groups said some of the deported expressed fear of persecution in Syria and were forced to sign "voluntary" repatriation forms despite Beirut's commitment not to forcibly return any Syrians.
Lebanese authorities estimate that over 170,000 Syrians have returned to their country between Dec. 2017 and March 2019, many on one-way bus trips organized by the government.
Aid groups and many Western countries say that conditions are not yet right for refugees' return to Syria.
In Arsal, Abu Fares, an organizer of the Syrian camp, said the campaign to apply labor and building laws is really aimed at harassing Syrians into returning home. He is campaigning for an exemption or longer grace period for the disabled or elderly in the camp who cannot carry out the demolition by themselves.
A defector from Syria's police force, Abu Fares said he can't fathom returning to Syria without a political settlement, a pardon and new laws.
"But if they can't have us here, just say it and take us out of Lebanon" to another country besides Syria, he said.
Some have succumbed to pressure. Arsal's mayor, Bassel al-Hujairi, said nearly 200 Syrians registered to return to Syria after the orders to bring down the walls.
Abu Ossama, a 74-year old Syrian and a retired army general, said he put his name on the list.
"I used to be safe here. It is not anymore," he said. "God will be my protector."
