Lebanon’s Enduring Spirit: How Community Responds to Conflict and Rebuilds Hope
A year after a ceasefire brought an end to a 14-month conflict between Israel and Hezbollah, the remarkable resilience and community spirit of the Lebanese people continues to shine, transforming hardship into avenues for support and renewal. During the war, which displaced over 1.2 million people – roughly 20% of the population – and resulted in an estimated 4,000 deaths, Lebanese citizens across sectarian lines demonstrated an extraordinary capacity for solidarity, offering food, shelter, and a sense of belonging to those in need.
From Wartime Relief to Sustainable Support
The initial response to the escalating conflict, which began with Hezbollah firing rockets into northern Israel in October 2023 and intensified with a wider Israeli offensive in September 2024, was immediate and widespread. As tens of thousands fled their homes, communities rallied to provide assistance. “As much as we can, we are doing,” said Jad Hamdan, manager of the upscale Mezyan restaurant in Beirut’s Hamra district, reflecting the prevailing sentiment at the time. Despite a 70% loss in customers and limited staff, Mezyan produced 300 meals a day, delivered to families displaced in nearby apartments.
This commitment to “stay every day” and help one another, deeply ingrained in Lebanese culture after decades of conflict – including a 15-year civil war, multiple armed conflicts, and more recent crises like the 2020 Port of Beirut explosion and the COVID-19 pandemic – has evolved beyond immediate relief efforts. Restaurants that once fed the displaced are now channeling their energy into supporting local businesses, while renovated theaters and art centers have become sanctuaries and hubs for community engagement.
A Window of Hope: Mezyan Restaurant’s New Mission
Mezyan restaurant, still recovering from the financial strain of the war and facing ongoing economic challenges, exemplifies this shift. Rather than simply returning to its pre-war operations, the restaurant is now showcasing local chefs, providing them with a platform to reach a wider audience. “We are trying to help small businesses and support them,” Hamdan explained. “We are finding a window of hope in this country.”
A recent example of this initiative was “Ethiopian Night,” featuring the culinary talents of 23-year-old Lebanese-Ethiopian chef Stephanie Souaid. Souaid, who plans to launch her own Ethiopian food truck, expressed her excitement at sharing her heritage with Lebanese diners. “I am stunned and excited, because I found that Lebanese people like this food, because it is full of spices and life,” she said, as Ethiopian music filled the restaurant. Her mother, Mulualem, served traditional coffee, further enriching the cultural exchange.
Community Solidarity Extends Beyond Beirut
The spirit of solidarity extended beyond the capital. In the coastal city of Sidon, the manager of a shawarma shop recounted providing 100 sandwiches daily to displaced Lebanese camped at a nearby bus station for two months. “We have a policy in our place to help the needy,” said Mohammed al-Ali, the shop’s manager. “I feel that these people are our families. They are Lebanese, they are displaced with no food, and it is our duty to feed them, if we can.” Even after the ceasefire, this sense of duty continues through donations to those in need.
Further south, in Tyre, Kassem Istanbouli, an actor-director and leader of the nonprofit Tiro Association for Arts, transformed a renovated 1950s cinema into a space for displaced children, offering art and theater workshops. Despite the trauma of an Israeli airstrike that tragically killed a 6-year-old girl and her parents near the theater, Istanbouli persevered, completing renovations on another theater in Beirut to house more displaced families.
Building for the Future, Remembering the Past
Today, the Tyre cinema has reopened, but mattresses remain readily available in anticipation of potential future conflict. The Beirut theater now functions almost as a hotel, equipped with a kitchen, electricity, and internet access. “We learned how we can help,” Istanbouli stated. “Before we reacted to the situation. Now, in case something happens, we learned how to manage with the people.”
Perhaps the most poignant symbol of this enduring spirit is a photograph of Selena al-Smarah, taken at a workshop just one day before her death, holding a drawing of a flower. Istanbouli frequently shares her story, emphasizing the importance of continuing to create and offer hope even in the face of adversity. “Selena has started to become an iconic symbol for people – of freedom, of hope,” he said.
This commitment extends to those who themselves have sought refuge in Lebanon. Raafat Mhawish, a Syrian refugee who found sanctuary at the Tyre theater in 2013, is now working with Tiro, learning acting and contributing to the organization’s mission. “I want to help, because [Mr. Istanbouli] helped me during the war – so I stayed,” he explained.
The Lebanese experience demonstrates that even amidst ongoing instability and the threat of renewed conflict, a deeply rooted sense of community and a commitment to mutual support can not only provide immediate relief but also lay the foundation for a more resilient and hopeful future.
