For the past 18 months the Lebanese are dealing with one of the world's most economic disasters, a devastating explosion and the COVID-19 pandemic. How do they keep their business running?
Lebanon is going through a turmoil. Today 75% of the population lives in poverty and the whole Lebanese society went into chaos. The fuel and electricity shortage have done enormous damage to the economy. Most Lebanese have no access to basic goods like, water, food or medicine, nor can they afford or find necessary items for daily life. Daily actions, as charging your phone or taking a morning shower, have become almost impossible in the country.
The photo documentary "Beirut's Silhouette - Butchers" illustrates the personal stories of five butchers from different parts of Lebanon, who all have to deal with the economic crisis and the effects of the unstable political situation in their country. How is this crisis different from the civil war, and how does it affect their families? Are they able to keep the tradition of the family business alive?
Fares Rachied (72) owns a butchery since 1973. When he was 23 years, he opened his shop in Beirut. He had a lot of regular costumers, and especially the relationship with these costumers is what he values the most in his work. However, at the moment he is surviving to keep his business open.
During the civil war (1975 - 1990) in Lebanon, Fares was forced to close his shop for a few days. "In 1981 the situation was comparable to what we experience now. We had no petrol and no electricity, however, my costumers still had excess to their money. So in that time I was able to sell my product." At the moment, a lot of Lebanese do not have access to their funds. The World Bank has reported that the Lebanon’s GDP has been reduced by nearly 40%. Therefore, the Government and the banks have decided that most funds are frozen en the Lebanese have only access to limited amount of money every month.
Due to the economic crisis, it becomes almost impossible for Fares to buy and sell his meat. Because of the lack of electricity, Fares is not able to refrigerate his meat and most of the refrigerator in his shop are empty. "My clients give me a call in the morning to place an order. They do not come to the shop any more. If I can provide them with their order, I am able to earn some money. Otherwise, we both lose."
Fares has two sons. One of them is working as a butcher in Syria, and the other son lives in the south of Lebanon. "My son immigrated to Syria, because he hopes he will have a better future there. My other son is also looking for ways to leave the country. They are not taking over my business and that is a disappointment."
The financial reasons are not everything. Nowadays, a lot of Lebanese want to leave because they see that there is no proper medical support due to the collapse of the health sector during the crisis. So when a family member gets sick, there is a big chance that there is no bed available in the hospital.
In 1983 when Charif Ebrahim (69) was 20 years old, he opened his own butchery in Beirut. "Back in the days when you entered the bank, the bankers would say; the richest people in Lebanon are the butchers and the businessmen." Today, most Lebanese look down on the profession, because a butcher has to work really hard for little profit.
In 1989, during the civil war, Charif decided to close his shop for 12 days because it was becoming too dangerous. "Back then it was a difficult time, however, people still had access to their money. Which made it easier for me to stay open. Nowadays, we are all struggling and without money. So nobody wants to buy a good beef steak."
Today "fresh dollars," are worth 19,000 Lebanese pounds at the market trade, compared to 1,500 LL at the official exchange rate and 3,900 LL at the banks. Everyone who can get dollars into the country from abroad will only trade them on the black market.
All five sons of Charif work as butchers in Libanon, but they do not promote themselves as a family business. "I always gave my children the freedom to study whatever they wanted to study. One of my sons is working with me in the shop, and my other son has a shop down the road." Charif's grandchildren have other plans for the future. They are longing to live a "normal" life and as soon as they see an opportunity they will leave the country.
The civil war witnessed the largest exodus, with the emigration of nearly 980,000 people. Between 1990 and 2019, some 750,000 people have left Lebanon. The last group of emigrants is not a reaction to a war, these people want to leave genuinely because of the horrible conditions in the country. Most of them try to find their luck in Canada or closer to home and go to UEA.
Fawzi Charif Ebrahim (48) is the son of Charif Ebrahim and started working for his father when he was seven years old. According to Fawzi, he was born with a butchers knife in his hand. He loves his job, but he is also realistic and doesn't really see a future in it.
In 2012, Fawzi opened his own butchery and within a few months he had a lot of regular costumers. "Before the economic crisis, I sold around 100 kilos of meat a day. Now I am happy when I sell half." Despite the fact that many of his regular customers get dollars from their children who live abroad and can afford the product, Fawzi noticed that they don't buy meat so often any more. "I adjust my prices. If it's a regular customer that I know who has money problems now, I'll lower my price. This way I sell something and I know that this customer will come back again."
Due to the shortage of electricity, Fawzi is completely depending on his neighbours, who supply him with electricity. Otherwise, the shop can't open at all because he doesn't have money for a generator. As a result, Fawzi had to close his butchery for 3 days this last month. Which resulted into a lot of debts.
All three sons do not want to continue the tradition of the butchery. "I motivate my children to study something else. I see no future for them if they take over my business." Yet his youngest son Karim helps out in the shop every morning and afternoon. His other son has already immigrated to UAE and is studying there.
Especially Dubai is an attractive spot for young Lebanese. The city is hosting around 70,000-75,000 Lebanese who left. Finding a job there is no easy, and some are accepting salaries that barely reach $1,000 a month just to help their parents. All this is happening in the same country where the minimum wage is $4,000 a month.
Bouprous (63) has a butchery in Batroun, a Lebanese coastal town, 50 kilometres north of Beirut. He was the first in his family to work as a butcher. He was only 10 years old at the time and always wanted to become a butcher.
When Bouprous was 18, he opened his first shop in his village, just outside Batroun. When he had a family of his own, he moved to Batroun and opened a new butchery. "We were holding sheep at the farm in our village. I slaughtered them and sold them in my shop. That provided me with a lot of profit."
A few years ago Bouprous had a car accident and now his son has taken over the business. "We can't complain. Unlike Beirut, we have electricity all day in Batroun, so our shop is open all day." However, they do have fewer refrigerator in use than before, this way they still try to save electricity and money.
Bouprous is very happy that his son wants to take over the business. Families are very important in the Lebanese culture. The family is seen as a collective within the society, and someone's individual identity and status is based on their family. When one decide to emigrate, they have the responsibility to provide extra money for their family in Lebanon. Even if they can only find a very poor paid job overseas, they have the commitment to support their family.
Youssef (45) is a butcher in Nabatiyeh, a city in southern Lebanon. He started working 30 years ago in the same butchery, where he is now the manager.
The shop employs about 20 people, and it is one of the oldest butcheries in the city. "The shortage of electricity makes it difficult for us at the moment. Fortunately, we recently got a generator, and we can stay open all day." A generator also brings new concerns because one of Youssef's employees has to queue for a long time to buy petrol on the black market. This also costs a lot of money.
Youssef has two sons, but neither want to continue the tradition of the family business. Youssef does not want that either, he wants his children to study something else. However, he does not see a bleak future for the business. "We have a lot of wealthy customers. I keep a close eye on the political and economic situation. When things get better, I want to invest in the business. We are one of the oldest butcheries in the city, it would be a shame if we disappear."
Youssef doesn't want his sons to emigrate. According to many European countries, Lebanon is not in a state of conflict, so many Lebanese can not seek asylum. Despite the fact that their situation doesn't difference much from Syria, the international community does not consider the crisis in Lebanon as a state of emergency.
Eveline Gerritsen is a documentary photographer from the Netherlands who met Rawad Kansoun in 2010. Last year they worked together to make documentaries about life in Beirut after the big blast. This year, Eveline went back to check on her friend and the situation, a year later. With a little bit of hope, she got on the plane, but it soon became clear that life in Lebanon is deteriorating day by day. With their photography projects, they try to create awareness and show another light on the situation that people do not see in the mainstream media. Together they try to create hope for the people in Lebanon.