The Hariri family has promised the displaced residents of Abra that they will be able to return to their homes in the former “security zone” of Salafi cleric Ahmad al-Assir before Eid al-Fitr next month. Geneco, a company controlled by members of the Hariri family, will handle restoration works to repair the damage incurred during last month’s clashes between the Lebanese army and Assir’s militants here on the outskirts of Saida. But a closer examination reveals that the Hariri family may be exploiting the residents’ needs for publicity, while the cost of the works will be borne by none other than the Lebanese treasury.
The building across from the Bilal bin Rabah Mosque in Abra, the erstwhile sanctuary of Salafi cleric Ahmad al-Assir, has been turned into a gigantic billboard, displaying ads for anything from construction contractors and painters, to carpenters, and window and door suppliers.
The relatively affluent neighborhood is now a golden goose for all kinds of tradespeople seeking to turn a profit. Some people even refer to them as “war profiteers,” after many contractors raised their fees and the prices for raw material.
Assir’s former security zone, an area that spans many hundreds of meters, is now a giant construction site. Scaffolding litters the facades of the buildings surrounding the mosque, and workers can be seen toiling there throughout the day.
The workers are busy removing the rubble and damaged doors and windows, and plastering over holes from bullets and shells. On the rooftops, meanwhile, they are removing punctured water tanks and singed clotheslines.
One of the buildings displays a large sign thanking former Prime Minister Saad Hariri who, according to the same sign, is paying to renovate the damaged facades out of his own pocket. But despite the many pictures of a beaming Hariri erected amid the rubble and bullet holes, the residents are yet to benefit from his magnanimity.
Meanwhile, the name Geneco, Hariri’s contracting arm, can be seen across Abra, on buildings, cranes, diggers and scaffolding, perhaps to remind its residents that the Hariri family is rebuilding Abra, “which the army and Hezbollah have destroyed.”
The public relations campaign launched by Saad Hariri’s aunt, Saida MP Bahia Hariri, over the reconstruction of Abra, has caused confusion over who exactly is funding the works.
Indeed, listening to Bahia Hariri’s statements made during meetings with residents affected by the fighting, one would leave with the impression that the Hariri family is footing the entire reconstruction costs, from A to Z, at its own expense. However, it turns out that their largesse is limited to repainting the building facades in Abra, while everything else is to be covered by the government: that is, the Lebanese taxpayer.
Speaking to Al-Akhbar, Saida mayor Mohammad al-Saudi said that a survey of the damage conducted by Geneco, at the behest of the Council for Development and Reconstruction, and in coordination with a committee from the army, found that there were 530 damaged apartments, 50 shops, 150 vehicles, and 66 families in need of alternative housing as their homes are now uninhabitable.
According to Saudi, after the survey was completed, MP Hariri said her brother Shafik, through Geneco, was willing to repair the building facades at the family’s expense, “to save time and cut through official procedures for tenders and bidding.” Saudi put the cost of reconstruction in Abra somewhere between $17 and $20 million.
Geneco was also contracted by the High Relief Commission (HRC) to conduct structural repairs to buildings with damaged foundations, at the expense of the Lebanese government. The HRC also intends to distribute compensation for furniture and other internal fixtures damaged during the clashes.
For its part, al-Jamaa al-Islamiya paid $1,000 each to 30 families to cover temporary accommodations for two months; the Hariri Foundation for Sustainable Development also doled out the same amount to a further 36 families. The charity Farah Al Ataa (the Joy of Giving) is also involved in the repairs of three buildings through its network of volunteers, together with a campaign launched by al-Jamaa al-Islamiya to clear rubble from apartments and streets in the area.
A number of Abra residents, both men and women, stood watching the cranes and laborers at work repairing their homes. The extensive damage to their apartments had forced them to move in with relatives in Abra, Saida, Majdelyoun and beyond. But some of them, who are sympathetic to Ahmed al-Assir, have decided not to return to Abra at all after the debacle with the Salafi cleric.
In a building near the Bilal bin Rabah Mosque, one woman and her daughters were packing their belongings to move to another residence, far from Abra. The woman is neither a supporter of Assir nor of Hezbollah. She simply does not believe that peace can return to the neighborhood, she said, and expects a new round of fighting to take place, as long as the mosque has not been shut down. To bolster her claim, she pointed in the direction of the posters adorning the doors of the mosque, which proclaimed that “this mosque belongs to its people,” and “may Allah protect you, Sheikh Assir.”
On the balcony of Assir’s burnt out home across from the mosque, the cleric’s wife, Amal Shamsuddin, erected a sign promising that her husband will return, “because the voice of righteousness will not go in vain.” But Assir’s home and his adjacent office will require extensive work to restore them to their previous condition.
The crumbling walls and the shattered windows grant passersby a clear view of the inside. In truth, Shamsuddin comes here every day to examine the house with a number of her husband’s supporters, and to collect belongings and books scattered by the falling shells.
Likewise, the wife of one of Assir’s bodyguards, Mohammad al-Souri, also returns to the area to repair his shop and the vegetable stall that he ran on behalf of Assir. Souri, like his boss, is now a fugitive, while his wife is reopening the shop to support the family during her husband’s absence.
Her neighbor, the unveiled owner of a lingerie shop, is also trying to repair the damage to her store. “Most importantly, we got rid of Assir and his security measures, and his tent that blocked the sunlight,” she said. “Although,” she admits, “the price was high.”
This article is an edited translation from the Arabic Edition.
The building across from the Bilal bin Rabah Mosque in Abra, the erstwhile sanctuary of Salafi cleric Ahmad al-Assir, has been turned into a gigantic billboard, displaying ads for anything from construction contractors and painters, to carpenters, and window and door suppliers.
The relatively affluent neighborhood is now a golden goose for all kinds of tradespeople seeking to turn a profit. Some people even refer to them as “war profiteers,” after many contractors raised their fees and the prices for raw material.
Assir’s former security zone, an area that spans many hundreds of meters, is now a giant construction site. Scaffolding litters the facades of the buildings surrounding the mosque, and workers can be seen toiling there throughout the day.
The workers are busy removing the rubble and damaged doors and windows, and plastering over holes from bullets and shells. On the rooftops, meanwhile, they are removing punctured water tanks and singed clotheslines.
One of the buildings displays a large sign thanking former Prime Minister Saad Hariri who, according to the same sign, is paying to renovate the damaged facades out of his own pocket. But despite the many pictures of a beaming Hariri erected amid the rubble and bullet holes, the residents are yet to benefit from his magnanimity.
Meanwhile, the name Geneco, Hariri’s contracting arm, can be seen across Abra, on buildings, cranes, diggers and scaffolding, perhaps to remind its residents that the Hariri family is rebuilding Abra, “which the army and Hezbollah have destroyed.”
The public relations campaign launched by Saad Hariri’s aunt, Saida MP Bahia Hariri, over the reconstruction of Abra, has caused confusion over who exactly is funding the works.
Indeed, listening to Bahia Hariri’s statements made during meetings with residents affected by the fighting, one would leave with the impression that the Hariri family is footing the entire reconstruction costs, from A to Z, at its own expense. However, it turns out that their largesse is limited to repainting the building facades in Abra, while everything else is to be covered by the government: that is, the Lebanese taxpayer.
Speaking to Al-Akhbar, Saida mayor Mohammad al-Saudi said that a survey of the damage conducted by Geneco, at the behest of the Council for Development and Reconstruction, and in coordination with a committee from the army, found that there were 530 damaged apartments, 50 shops, 150 vehicles, and 66 families in need of alternative housing as their homes are now uninhabitable.
According to Saudi, after the survey was completed, MP Hariri said her brother Shafik, through Geneco, was willing to repair the building facades at the family’s expense, “to save time and cut through official procedures for tenders and bidding.” Saudi put the cost of reconstruction in Abra somewhere between $17 and $20 million.
Geneco was also contracted by the High Relief Commission (HRC) to conduct structural repairs to buildings with damaged foundations, at the expense of the Lebanese government. The HRC also intends to distribute compensation for furniture and other internal fixtures damaged during the clashes.
For its part, al-Jamaa al-Islamiya paid $1,000 each to 30 families to cover temporary accommodations for two months; the Hariri Foundation for Sustainable Development also doled out the same amount to a further 36 families. The charity Farah Al Ataa (the Joy of Giving) is also involved in the repairs of three buildings through its network of volunteers, together with a campaign launched by al-Jamaa al-Islamiya to clear rubble from apartments and streets in the area.
A number of Abra residents, both men and women, stood watching the cranes and laborers at work repairing their homes. The extensive damage to their apartments had forced them to move in with relatives in Abra, Saida, Majdelyoun and beyond. But some of them, who are sympathetic to Ahmed al-Assir, have decided not to return to Abra at all after the debacle with the Salafi cleric.
In a building near the Bilal bin Rabah Mosque, one woman and her daughters were packing their belongings to move to another residence, far from Abra. The woman is neither a supporter of Assir nor of Hezbollah. She simply does not believe that peace can return to the neighborhood, she said, and expects a new round of fighting to take place, as long as the mosque has not been shut down. To bolster her claim, she pointed in the direction of the posters adorning the doors of the mosque, which proclaimed that “this mosque belongs to its people,” and “may Allah protect you, Sheikh Assir.”
On the balcony of Assir’s burnt out home across from the mosque, the cleric’s wife, Amal Shamsuddin, erected a sign promising that her husband will return, “because the voice of righteousness will not go in vain.” But Assir’s home and his adjacent office will require extensive work to restore them to their previous condition.
The crumbling walls and the shattered windows grant passersby a clear view of the inside. In truth, Shamsuddin comes here every day to examine the house with a number of her husband’s supporters, and to collect belongings and books scattered by the falling shells.
Likewise, the wife of one of Assir’s bodyguards, Mohammad al-Souri, also returns to the area to repair his shop and the vegetable stall that he ran on behalf of Assir. Souri, like his boss, is now a fugitive, while his wife is reopening the shop to support the family during her husband’s absence.
Her neighbor, the unveiled owner of a lingerie shop, is also trying to repair the damage to her store. “Most importantly, we got rid of Assir and his security measures, and his tent that blocked the sunlight,” she said. “Although,” she admits, “the price was high.”
This article is an edited translation from the Arabic Edition.