I’m watching the photos emerging from several days of protest in Beirut with some dismay. Just last week I walked around the streets of the city and stood in the square close to the mosque and Christian church where fires now blaze.
This weekend also, the President of Ireland was evacuated from the hotel I stayed in, the glamorous Phoenicia overlooking the waterfront. Hardly surprising. In a city as small as Beirut, a fire anywhere is not going to be too far away from the hotel – not close enough to put him in any danger but close enough to make minders uneasy.
Last Sunday I stood looking into the parliament square where a protest was underway, a peaceful protest where hundreds of people stood with placards, calling for fairness in their government. It was made up of all ages, the young and the old, people, it seemed to me, from all walks of life.
It was just like the protest I took part in on Saturday in London, where hundreds of thousands of us, young and old, from all walks of life, marched with placards and called for fairness in our own government.

But the Beirut protests erupted in flames after the government introduced even more crippling taxes for its already financially stretched population – and flames make headlines. Beirut is only putting itself back together after the nightmare of its 15-year civil war, from 1975 to 1990, when the very name of the city became a catch word for destruction and mayhem and violence. It began as a religious war as East fought against West and Israeli and Syrian forces entered the country, but alliances shifted rapidly and unpredictably. 120,000 people were killed during the fighting, one million left, 76,000 still remain displaced within the country.
Going there last weekend, I hadn’t expected to find a city that was so beautiful, so calm and so welcoming. There are still streets of war-torn houses and bullet-marked walls but there are many more streets of preserved 18th and 19th century buildings and attractive Art Deco and 1930s architecture.

Entire areas of the city have been completely rebuilt, using a modern take on classical design, here you’ll find the designer shops, the posh restaurants, the stylish cafes and bars. In more run-down streets are the businesses that survived the war, the oldest Armenian bakery in the city, the traditional spice shops and coffee houses.
Around another corner there are contemporary glass buildings with their penthouse apartments – some built over the city’s ancient Roman ruins, preserved in the glass enclosed foundations. These sit alongside streets of 1940s, ‘50s and ‘60s architecture, Brutalist blocks of concrete, the ancient sitting beside the new.
The old sits beside the new in the culture and lifestyle as well, here you will see Muslim women in traditional dress as well as in Western clothes. On a day trip from Beirut to the coastal city of Tyre, I watched a group of Lebanese teenagers party on the beach, a few swimming in the sea, where a girl in full hijab floated alongside her friend in a swimsuit.

There are businesses with a conscience here in Beirut, proving that progress is not all about blind capitalism. Sarah’s Bag and Bajoka both work with underprivileged communities to produce their products – Sarah’s Bag employing female prisoners to make designer handbags for which they are paid a wage, Bajoka keeping the skills of the refugee community alive in their high-end homewares.
With all that was destroyed in the Lebanese war, it’s amazing so much remains. There are growing numbers of tourists and facilities for them – as well as the luxury hotels like the Phoenicia, lower cost guesthouses are opening up as well as hostels.
Today, the UK government confirm that protests have been generally peaceful, but there has been sporadic violence, including clashes between protestors and security forces, vandalism and looting. Banks remain closed, and there are reports of some ATMs being low on cash.

Beirut was described as the ‘Paris of the Middle East’ in its 1960s heyday and the Phoenicia was the jewel in its crown with its majestic entrance staircase, marble lounges and chandeliers.

It’s clear those days can come back if the unrest settles, if the problems of high prices and the country’s political elite, perceived as out of touch and insensitive to the problem of its citizens, are resolved. National debt is high – more than 150% of the country’s GDP. The militia leaders of the war, who came to political power afterwards in a system based on power sharing between religious groups, have been criticised for plundering the state to hand out privileges, jobs and lucrative contacts to supporters. The country’s premier, Saad al-Hariri, gave his partners in government an ultimatum to agree a package of reform to ward off economic collapse.
There’s something of an irony in all of this. Divided in war time into religious factions, last week’s protests united the people of Lebanon as Christians, Sunni and Shia Muslims gathered together to call for the corrupt political elite to stand down.
Unity and inclusive leadership are what the country needs. I hope it achieves its aims and continues to welcome travellers to experience its wonderful charms.