In Lebanon: A redefinition of what is middle class is due.

Fa - artwork by Tarek Chemaly

Middle class, a term frequently used but seldom understood here in Lebanon. I bet no Lebanese has a solid understanding of social stratification and its difficult nuances. Has anyone heard of Max Weber? I think not. And even those who have heard of Karl Marx probably did so through some reference by Ziad Rahbani. If I say this is it because, without any doubt, what is "middle class" in Lebanon is surely eroding.

The current economic crisis has brought many to change their spending habits, their ability to show off which is primordial to the Lebanese m'as-tu-vu system (everything is based on keeping up with the Joneses), the penchant for bragging (or as a friend put it, "I knew that restaurant was dead when my aunt stopped doing her children's birthdays in it"), the hype system (which makes a shop like Zara become high end or an eatery like Paul which is basically something you find in the French metro a proper exclusive restaurant), and the lowest-common-denominator comparisons (Marmaris in Turkey becomes a coveted destination). 

But now all this is gone. The new system is still being built. Surely political powers still hold sway on the populace, but even that is shifting and morphing. Even Zara itself has climbed the echelons to bypass the middle class at this stage. The proliferation of cash economy and pay on delivery as well as second-hand buying are but signifiers of how symbols of what constitutes middle class is changing.

One of the easiest signals to detect as house helps - many were left to their own devices at embassy doors, others quit outright because they were no longer being properly paid (due to the absence of Dollars in the Lebanese market), and economists who say that foreign workers are siphoning Dollars from the economy to their home countries seem unaware that - class restrictions withstanding - local women (even if unemployed and in dire need of money) would not accept to work in houses to replace helps coming from Ethiopia or other nations.

I recently told the story of how at a fancy store, many people would come in ask about the maamoul prices that tripled since last year (maamoul being the traditional Easter cookie) and leave without buying. Without having solid statistics, I can however tell you the cases of many supposedly middle class houses who bypassed maamoul buying this year under different guises - their mother has diabetes, "aslan ma 7ada 3am yeje" (to begin with no one is visiting), am on a diet - but truth be told, it all goes back to: The prices are exorbitant and better spent elsewhere.

A doctor I know, fresh from visiting her husband who works in an Arab country, told me she brought an extra bag filled with powdered milk and other such items for her kids considering how expensive - if at all found - they have become in the Lebanese market. 

Tailors and cobblers are making excellent business, suddenly everyone is waking up to having things that need repairing, because it is much cheaper than buying new items since the throwaway culture had taken hold of Lebanon. And again, what was something that took no time (changing a zipper replacing buttons) is now taking days at repair shops.

I am not saying all this with a negative mindset, on the contrary, a change had to happen and sadly it came about due to the wrong reasons. Still, a redefinition of what is middle class is due in Lebanon.

Second hand: Is there a paradigm shift in Lebanese shopping?

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly

Are the Lebanese finally changing their consumption habits? Signs are exposing cracks in that picture perfect way the Lebanese liked to portray themselves. A middle class that just spent four days in Turkey, got clothes there on the cheap, and eats at McDonald's while eyeing the new Zara collection as they drive in a Nissan they pay on monthly installments.

For several years, I used to dress exclusively from Souk El Ahad, or the low-income Sunday market (which actually was held on Saturday and Sunday hence the misnomer) - and where I would get second hand clothes. I usually went with a French friend, his girlfriend and his brother. It was really wonderful to get things at such discounted prices. Sometimes we would strike gold, like that Dries Van Noten shirt, and other times it was the thrill of discovery. When I moved from Beirut in September 2010, almost all the clothes in question were donated.

But to many, the idea of buying second hand was a total taboo. Which is why my praise for Depot Vente is still enormous, as Nawal showed everyone that second hand meant rarities, one of a kind, and things that fast fashion stores could not compete with (read here). Whereas not second hand, if you aim for deadstock material (which is not new either), you might want to check Vntg Smtng for their pristine stock of sporty goods (their Iril polos are to die for). But now, with Zara increasing its prices to match the black market price of the Dollar, with many such stores changing prices almost daily (read here), and others quitting the game entirely (Adidas is exiting the market at the end of the year), something has shifted deeply in the remnants of the Lebanese middle class.

The explosion of August 4 only made things worse in the sense that suddenly everyone, from all socio-economic classes were affected (read here). Garage Souk which dubs itself a community financial empowerment tool to buy/sell/earn/learn/swap/thrift has been gaining momentum. It is supposed to empower women and students and get them extra income. But not only this, thrift stores (more like pêle-mêle vide greniers) have been mushrooming all over Instagram with mostly girls and women selling barely worn items from their closets - mostly fast fashion clothing and accessories - at discounted prices. But even higher end online stores exist - some with physical footprints not just virtual accounts (Preporter Luxury, Chic Beirut, or Garage Luxe).

The idea of second hand, with current prices soaring and imports estimated to have declined 90%, previously owned items (barely worn, back when people would buy, show off, and discard) suddenly seem a viable option. Am not saying people will go to Souk El Ahad yet, but many taboos seem to have fallen.

Beirut explosion: The great socio-economic equalizer

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly

The area in the port is divided socio-economically. First there are the low income neighborhoods, the old renters, the middle class or what remains of it, but also - and this much more recently - the uber wealthy living in gentrified neighborhoods. Gentrification of neighborhoods - Armenia Street, Mar Mikhael, the outskirts of Badawi has been going strong. Next to two or three-storied houses, dilapidated, old, crumbling recent luxury building and skyscrapers have been mushrooming. A celebrated Lebanese actress spoke how she went down, bloodied and barefoot, from her 22nd floor apartment (and had to hail a car to go to the hospital) while another comedian-actor is seen on the remains of his balcony overlooking the port.

Downtown Beirut, mostly a ghost town anyhow on any given day (splattered with empty, unsold buildings), had some of its very luxurious apartments inhabited by politicians, stars and extremely well to do people, is now literally a shell. Few people know that the currently upscale area of downtown Beirut which was rebuilt in faux rustic mood used to be an incredibly popular area and that women would avoid going there alone for fear of inappropriate touching.

Many stars posted videos of their downtown Beirut destroyed homes. Actually, even the tall buildings overlooking the sea on the corniche, also lost their glass facades and apartments there suffered significant damages. These buildings also cohabitate with smaller houses around them, remnants of a different social order.  

I have written extensively in the past about how income inequality was one of the triggers of war, most recently here. But the Beirut explosion has - excuse the bad choice of words as it might be read as a silly pun- leveled the field. Oh you might say, the rich do not care, they have other properties, the poor only have their destroyed homes. Not true, when you look at the images of these people's houses from what they put on Instagram or elsewhere, you realize that these places are also primary residences, better yet, their "homes". And by hitting these areas the explosion managed to touch everyone, from all socio-economic classes, the dead and wounded include people from all such classes.

As someone who escaped death that day - twice - please note am not gloating. News broke that cronies are already visiting people with destroyed houses convincing them to sell so that a new glitzy apartment buildings would replace them built by copy/paste developers. More gentrification am sure.

Yet again for all the images of Roche Bobois, Frau Poltrona, Fendi Casa furniture I saw in the Instagram stories - the result is the same. The explosion has Hurt people of all classes, and in weird, sarcastic, strange way, it became the great equalizer.

And what if it is not ONLY the government's fault?

Photo credit unknown

Dan Azzi (a friend, full disclosure) put it best: "Unpopular Opinion: Blaming our problems entirely on the political leadership ignores the issue of a cultural flaw when it comes to civic responsibility & ability to look at collective rather personal interests. It’s not just Killon yi3ni killon. It’s also Ni7na yi3ni Ni7na."

Yes, I am as tired, exhausted, frustrated as the next man. But the difference is, easy and simplistic answers do not do it for me.

Here is my question, with the tag #علقوا_المشانف (hang the nooses) trending (side note: am against capital punishment) - and the government gets toppled, then what? Hiba Yazbeck also nailed it in twitter: "What’s worse is that every time we face a tragic event, polarization increases among Lebanese, rather than solidarity. Perhaps we don’t deserve to have a country..." In times of crisis we tend to gravitate towards those who resemble us, those who share our beliefs, those who are "like us" rather than "like them" - sure, I am in awe in front of the volunteers who took brooms and went on cleaning streets, or those youngsters I saw yesterday who were gathering food and water and supplies, or the many initiatives that people are doing on a small scale. But let me go back to this theory I was discussing with my teacher at AUB in 1996, about why is it that people are clean in their own homes in Lebanon but are dirty in the street. Turns out the answer was that going back to the colonial mentality, because someone will pick up after you.

Picture this scene, I was at a seaside cafe in Tripoli. A young family was near me on the next table. Their daughter, about two years old, started throwing the content if the ashtray into the sea,then at one point seeing her mother giggling, she was encouraged to throw more objects. Until she tried to throw the ashtray itself, her mother sternly told her: "La2 3ayde 3ayzina" (no, this we need).

The image of that man sweeping glass debris on the street while wheelchair-bound is moving beyond words, yet I feel him to be the exception rather than the rule. But hey, there could be a silver lining, my friend Rachid Aschkar, says (in reference to the above-mentioned colonial theory) "maybe this time, the perimeter of "home" has changed to include whole country".

How an advertising billboard tells the story of a post-explosion Beirut

Credit: Hasan Jaber

You can always count in advertising to tell you the story. Always. Lately there was a campaign spreading, for better or worse, to entice people to place ads under the tag #اانا_اعلن which doubles as "I declare" (for the centennial of Lebanon's creation) and I advertise. For personal reasons, I made it a point not to talk about that campaign which ran under the umbrella of the Advertising Association. One of the billboards, in the campaign which tried to remediate to an estimated 90% drop in ad revenue, said "I declare my faith in a better future" - what is left of that billboard after the massive port explosion, is something that is torn, broken, defeated, and humiliated, only shows what it feels like now in a bitter twisted (literally) irony. 

Better future? Which one? People are grappling with the magnitude of the devastation no longer riding under the wave of adrenaline. The loss, in souls but also in material elements, can only add to the strain of the many problems the country is living in. And please don't anyone say "pity the nation" it is rather "pity the nations" - divided, fragmented, with each fragment following its leader. "Deux negations ne font pas une nation" as George Naccache brilliantly put it in 1949. A million negations will not make a nation.

With regards to that article about Lebanon being fourth most prosperous nation in 1963

Recently many people were sharing an article about Lebanon that dates back to 1963 which qualifies it as the fourth most prosperous nation in the world after Switzerland, (West) Germany, and the US. The barometer used was how much money was in the banks per capita but also with regards to the country's geographical area (it helps we are a tiny nation I guess). Interestingly, the money in the said banks did not have to be for Lebanese depositors. And it wasn't. Also interestingly, all this came three years before the Intra Bank bankruptcy due to lack of liquidity compared to money deposited. 

Poverty was (and is) rampant in Lebanon and those not aware about how social inequality helped fuel the war that ended up erupting in 1975, I ask them to check their history.

Photo Rudolf Dietrich (1970)

Under the Al Shams building, one of the most celebrated jewels of modernist architecture (by architect Joseph Philippe Karam) and in the pathways that made way to the sea, lived people in extreme Poverty, in makeshift houses. Literally at a stone throw from one of the most luxurious buildings of Beirut at the time.

Advertising revenue is down 90% in Lebanon

At the beginning of the year, trusted media and advertising personality Naji Boulos forecasted that the 2020 expenditure in Lebanon was going to be 100 million Dollars or 25 Dollars roughly per person. How wrong he was.... In a private chat with him he estimated the figure will be around 20 million by the end of the year. COVID, lockdown, inflation, devaluation, capital controls, all played a part - add to that the digital migration of advertising (seriously, why would anyone use OOH anymore? I explained that here). Agencies estimate that the revenue is down 90% now that we passed mid-year. Numbers are unlikely to get better or increase with the impeding factors here to stay. 

SKeyes explores censorship with "freedom is not a number"

SKeyes (SK stands for slain journalist Samur Kassir) gets director Roy  Dib to speak of censorship in Lebanon. Dib whose work was exhibited worldwide, and whose thematic I really like, is indeed candid.

Who can censor? The army

What can you talk about? Not much (everything is seen as devaluing women or inciting on debauchery or homosexuality)

And the list continues. With all his frankness Dib only scratches the surface of the iceberg.

I was once at the opening of a movie festival in 2010 and 5 mins before the movie starts the organizer shows up and says "we still do not have an answer from censorship, sometimes no answer is an answer" (the movie in question was "Chou Sar" by Charles de Gaulle Eid). At times the reasons given are too vague or obscure but irrevocable and irrefutable.

Watch the SK Eyes Roy Dib here... Worth it. Freedom is not a number indeed.

 

Carrefour - pledges that the consumers need

When times are a tough as they are today in Lebanon - economically, socially, politically - any small bit helps. The other day when shopping at the supermarket, the woman in the same isle as I am was checking something on her phone - I thought it was some shopping list. Her daughter brought  an item and the woman said "no that's too much" - the item was promptly returned. It turns out the woman was calculating on her phone how much her bill would be at the counter and did not want to exceed her budget. 

This practice is something the head marketing of a major supermarket told me was happening, people wanted to benefit from supermarket offers but also wanted not to exceed their pre-allocated budgets especially that now a lot of people pay cash because card payment ceilings are incredibly limited.

Which is why the Carrefour pledges above truly matter to the end consumer. 

"If you find an item outside at a lower price, take it for free"

"If you find the price on our shelf lower than the cash register, take the item for free" 

With consumers from all socio-economic classes trying to save a penny - and I mean from all socio-economic classes - such pledges are what distinguishes one place from another. And could truly create a new loyalty when the consumer is chasing the lowest paying denominator.

Common sense would be popular in Lebanon - if it was imported

Artwork by Tarek Chemaly from the series "History of Lebanon"

Next to our house in Beirut (Achrafieh) in the 80s there was something called "Al Ma'amal" (the factory), which as the name indicated would manufacture and sell clothing. That place was not unique, I also remember Anitex and Jonitex and other such labels.

I reveal no secret that Lebanon is importing much more than it is exporting, making the economy dangerously lopsided. Here's a story: My nephews came today and said that a bag of chickpeas costs 4500 Liras today, when it was 3000 when the Dollar was back at 1500 liras (the current value of the Dollar is all over the place but let us estimate it at 4000 Liras), so they said that the hummus was now cheaper than it was even if it was more expensive. I probed them as to why? They constructed the answer and discovered that it was because it was "made in Lebanon" ergo, not imported.

Lebanese have always been cosmopolitan. Story goes that major corporations would give their products to ambulant merchants on pushcarts in Beirut in the 50s and 60s and if the product did not sell they would not bother export it to the region because the Beirutis were the barometers of taste. But not only Lebanese had taste, they also love brands - or if they cannot get the original then made a good local copy.

Long before we had any McDonalds or Burger King, we had our own Winners and Juicy Burger. No points for guessing where the Winners logo got its red and yellow colors. But we also had our own Adams Chicklets factory, our own Gada shaving cream (which was infinitely more popular than Gilette), our own Amatoury (I am one of those who still use their shower gel religiously and still think their original perfume smells incredibly nice - though when I revealed that to someone who complimented my smell, he retorted: "What? You never heard the joke, "you still wear Amatoury?" as imply someone is too retro in their taste" and I replied "well, you just said I smelled nice.").

Lest I be called a hypocrite, I too wear imported branded items - but there is nothing wrong with consuming Cortas jam, Al Wadi Al Akhdar hummus or chickpea dip, Sanita products, and the list goes on. But there is a national complex that "franji branji" (foreign items) are nicer, sleeker, better-made, more socially-boosting and status-elevating than their local counterparts.

Actually, common sense would be popular in Lebanon - if it was imported.

Is it so wrong for the Lebanese to live within their means?

Before anyone jumps the gun and says I am insensitive to other people's plight, I am not. Actually one of the resolutions I did lately was to be less generous and altruistic. Here's my gripe: I see nothing wrong with the Lebanese living within their means. I know families who'd go out to restaurants weekly now content with house meals, children realizing food done at home is just as good as take away meals they used to order absent-mindedly, a family within my circle is trying to sell one of its two cars, and the list continues.... There is a reason why classification is called socio-economic: it is not your money, it is your social position too. I am/was an engineer/economist/consultant/university lecturer/multimedia artist etc... I grew up within the spectrum of middle class - at times on the upper margin, at others down below. But we always made do with what we have. Maybe it was the war where you were forced to get creative with little, maybe it was my parents' ethics of "want not, waste not" (all while providing us with things we desired within their means), maybe it is my own strict ethos of saving money (all while indulging myself - yet I think I own the least amount of "things" when compared to people my age).
All this is to say, as Lebanon faces the perfect storm of several elements (the least of which is the Coronavirus), financial expert Dan Azzi was on TV telling people to use their cars less. The rationale being that the less fuel we import the better we are economically as a country. I have been living without a car since 2000, and have never been late to any appointment. I rely on the ever efficient mix of public transport and (lately since am outside the highway) private taxis and I save money in the process.
Perhaps the time has come for the Lebanese to face facts and admit they were living in an inflated bubble. The bubble has burst. Now is the time to "make do and mend".
We need to adapt to a new economic order, the faster we do it the better it is.