Martyrs’ Monument: a witness to war
In a rebuilt Beriut, this bullet and shrapnel-torn statue is one of the few visible reminders of Lebanon’s civil war
Marino Mazzacurati’s Martyrs’ Monument is undoubtedly the most poignant reminder of Lebanon’s tragic civil war. In the centre of Beirut’s Martyrs’ Square, a muscular man and woman, arms outstretched, stand over a fallen figure at their feet, figures reminiscent of socialist statues dotted across Eastern Europe. But the bronze casts have taken on a symbolism Mazzucurati could not have foreseen when he completed it in 1960: their torsos have been shot through with bullets and shrapnel, and in a city with remarkably few other traces of the war, their scars bear startling witness to the 1975–1990 conflict.
Paving over recent history…
The monument’s all the more remarkable because the construction boom launched in the 1990s by the former prime-minister Rafik Hariri (who was himself blown up in a car bomb for daring to challenge Syria’s hold on the country), has swept much of the evidence of war under a concrete carpet: hemmed in between the mountains and the Mediterranean Sea, Beirut has developed into a seemingly chaotic and unplanned mass of high-rise apartments. While a recently revamped waterfront area shows more order — it is, as one local architect put it, “well-made but utterly sterile” — in neither case will you find many buildings that show any signs of war.
The city, however, decided to preserve the Martyrs’ Monument, bullet holes and all, and today it presides over the square which once stood on the Green Line between east and west Beirut during the civil war, and which has now become a focal point for the anti-government protests that have dominated Lebanon for almost a year.
…and building peace on the fault-lines
On the eastern edge of the square, a few hundred meters from the statue, is a huge oval-shaped dome. Propped up by crumbling pillars, The Egg is all that’s left of a cinema, its once cream concrete is stained with grimy stripes of black and grey, and it too has become a hub for the protest movement, with lectures and debates being held in the theatre.
At the same time, the discussion about The Egg’s future — should it be kept or demolished? — reflects the wider lack of agreement on how to deal with Lebanon’s past: too many of the leaders that fought on different sides in the war are still in power (names such as Jumblat, Beri, and Aoun still dominate Lebanese politics), and Syria still has an enormously powerful ally in the shape of Hezbollah, even if it is Iran which ultimately pulls its strings. Yet despite all this, Lebanon has been a relative sea of calm in a Middle East ripped apart by neighbouring wars and the failed revolutions of the Arab Spring. With Israel to its south and Syria to its north and east, the country is uncomfortably aware of the possibility of war spilling over its borders: most Lebanese can remember the conflict between Hezbollah and Israel in 2006, and while there has been no attempt at a reconciliation process since the civil war, most people we meet in Lebanese policy circles suggest it is the memory of the war that has prevented another one. Everyone knows they have too much to lose — even Hezbollah.
What our travellers say about the Lebanon tour:
“I have taken many tours during the past 10 years. However, this was unique in that its core consisted of a series of interviews with political leaders and others involved in the political life of Lebanon. The tour more than satisfied my interest in political matters in Lebanon. It was in many ways the most interesting tour I have ever taken.”
SS, Lebanon 2019
To learn more about our forthcoming Lebanon tour (28 March-5 April 2020) and our other destinations, visit our website at www.politicaltours.com.
