According to the receipt, the bottle of wine that I have just bought costs 525 US dollars. However, I only pay seven dollars and fifty cents. In cash…
What does the interplay between architecture and finance reveal about a society? How much government regulation does a city need? Where is the line between too little and too much – also compared to Germany, where construction projects stall not just because of capital market volatility?
Beirut – Lebanon’s capital city, a liberal oasis in the Middle East with a glamorous past – has weathered significant upheavals. Since gaining independence in 1943, Lebanon has been governed by a system that shares power among 18 officially recognized religious communities. No other country has absorbed more refugees per capita – 1.5 million Syrians alone since the war in neighbouring Syria. Meanwhile, about three times as many Lebanese live in the diaspora as within the country. From the Cold War to the present day, Lebanon’s internal power struggles have largely mirrored global politics, influenced by the direct and indirect interventions of France, the US, Israel, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Iran, Syria, and Russia.
Following the end of the 15-year Lebanese Civil War in 1990, Beirut experienced a building boom driven by a surge of foreign investments, combined with loose governmental oversight and a banking system that grew progressively unstable after 2015. Architecture became a repository for wealth, with soaring high-rises designed by international stars – it was a city without limits. And a pyramid scheme. From 2019, the economic crisis took a sharp downturn. The national currency, pegged to the dollar since the 1990s, faced growing pressure and rapidly lost value. While the central bank continued to artificially hold the official exchange rate stable at 1,500 lira per dollar, a parallel black market exchange rate developed that quickly skyrocketed. The banking sector collapsed in 2019. Since then, for many Lebanese people, their savings have existed only as numbers on a bank statement. Payments are now made again in cash and US dollars. In February 2023, the central bank raised the official exchange rate to 15,000 lira per dollar, but the black market rate is currently around 100,000 lira per dollar. The exact rate can be found on an app.
How rational is money? What does it mean for a city when state institutions completely fail as regulatory control bodies? Is there a moral dimension to architecture? If so, how does it align with the international architecture system and the pursuit of attention and power?
1. French Mandate
After the end of the Ottoman Empire, Lebanon came under French mandate administration from 1920 to 1943. The architectural legacy of this period remains visible in the city centre, particularly in neighbourhoods like Ashrafieh. Western architectural elements were blended with neo-Ottoman styles, creating an eclectic fusion. The increasing use of concrete allowed for the embellishment of facades at minimal expense – marking the onset of architectural eclecticism.
Today, Lebanon’s building laws trace their origins to the French Mandate period. However, the amendments made over the years have prioritized maximizing the use of built-up areas rather than fostering the development of quality urban spaces. Historic buildings, afforded scant protection, are being replaced by new luxury residential towers in affluent districts like Ashrafieh.
2. Hippodrome
The Hippodrome, along with its adjoining park, constitutes the last large open space within central Beirut. While the land belongs to the city, the horse races and related betting activities are managed by the nonprofit organization Sparca. The Hippodrome stands as a symbol of Lebanon’s history – its glamour as well as its crises. Established in 1918 with funding from Alfred Sursock, it became one of the world’s most visited racecourses by the 1960s. However, the civil war took its toll on the Hippodrome, which was situated on the “Green Line” dividing Beirut into a Christian and a Muslim sector.
After the end of the civil war, the city council embarked on an ambitious reconstruction project, only to later slash its funding. While Beirut’s (construction) economy boomed, the concrete grandstand built in 1992 remains a rudimentary structure. The Hippodrome’s director, Nabil Nasrallah, has drawn up plans for a new facility. But numerous parties are interested in acquiring the property. So far, he has successfully fended off such interests – determined to press forward with his vision.
3. Holiday Inn
The Holiday Inn was the last hotel to open in the fall of 1974, just a few months before the outbreak of the Lebanese Civil War. Standing tall with 26 floors, it boasted upscale amenities, including a revolving restaurant on the top floor, a nightclub on the 25th floor, and 400 guest rooms. During the 1960s and early 1970s, Beirut was a magnet for the international jet set, making the hotel district the epicentre of luxury tourism.
With the onset of the Lebanese Civil War in 1975, the hotel district became one of the first major battlegrounds. Over 25,000 members of pro-Palestinian and Christian militias fought for control over the strategically vital luxury hotels. When the Holiday Inn was set ablaze for the fifth time on 12 December 1975, shrouded in billowing clouds of black smoke, it became a symbol of the conflict and the divided city. After the fighting ended in 1990, the hotels along the seaside promenade were rebuilt. However, the Holiday Inn was excluded due to disputes among various shareholders. Today, the hotel and its immediate surroundings are under the control of the Lebanese army.
4. Beirut Souks by Rafael Moneo
Over 200 stores, 25 restaurants and cafés, an entertainment centre, and a cinema with 14 screens – the Beirut Souks are Beirut’s largest shopping district. They were opened in 2009 by the client, Solidere, a Lebanese construction and real estate company. The name is an acronym for “Société libanaise pour le développement et la reconstruction du centre ville de Beyrouth” – the Lebanese Company for the Development and Reconstruction of Beirut Central District.
The Souks were Solidere’s flagship project, aiming to position the new heart of Beirut as a haven of luxury, catering more to affluent visitors from the Gulf States than to Beirut’s residents. In 1995, Spanish architect Rafael Moneo won the international competition for the district’s South Souks. In collaboration with Lebanese architect Samir Khairallah, he designed a modern shopping complex to house internationally renowned (luxury) brands. However, since the economic crisis at the latest, the stores have remained largely vacant.
5. Terraces by Herzog de Meuron
Terraces is located in the city centre, in the immediate vicinity of the Holiday Inn and the new marina. While the neighbouring office and residential towers typically adhere to conventional, uniform stacking of floors, the residential sections here jut out in different directions, creating an interplay of shadow and light. Some of the 130 apartments extend over two floors and are up to 1,000 square metres in size. Each of the spacious apartments is divided into three zones: a public reception area, a private living area, and a service area.
However, the rooms designated for domestic workers are less than four square metres in size and have no windows. The architects had “planned and recommended different concepts. But the final execution was the express wish of the client and was carried out according to his instructions.”
6. Silos and port – Silo und Hafen
The Port of Beirut is the largest in the country. On the evening of 4 August 2020, an estimated 2,750 tonnes of ammonium nitrate exploded in a warehouse – one of the biggest non-nuclear disasters of our time. Two hundred people were killed, several thousand were injured, and 300,000 were rendered homeless. The blast wave from the explosion ravaged not only the port area but also neighbouring districts, causing extensive damage to numerous residential buildings and infrastructure, including the Beirut Port Silos. With a storage capacity of over 100,000 tonnes, this was Beirut’s largest granary.
The exact cause and sequence of events leading to the accident remain uncertain. High-ranking politicians have faced minimal scrutiny despite their awareness of the danger. Almost exactly two years after the explosion, part of the severely damaged silo block collapsed following a two-week-long fire that consumed stored grain. Today, the 48-metre-high silo ruins within the port stand as a memorial to the explosion – and to the state’s failure.
7. Électricité du Liban
The headquarters of the state-owned Lebanese electricity company, Électricité du Liban (EDL), is situated in the heart of the Mar Mikhaël district. This high-rise building, spanning 14 floors, stands directly behind the grain silos at the harbour. In 1965, the Beirut architecture firm CETA won the competition organized by ÉDL to design the headquarters. The electricity company wanted a building that would integrate with the urban context, create public green spaces, and establish a connection to the sea – a testament to the “Golden 60s” and the vision of a progressive, modern nation.
The interior of the building is completely devastated. Despite this, people are continuously moving about on the ground floor. A telephone is ringing somewhere. We take the elevator – one of the four is working again – and stop at the third floor. A young man works amidst the debris. His window overlooks the silo ruins at the port. A machine hums, printing something nonstop. “What are you doing?” “Printing electricity bills.”
8. Sursock Museum & Sursock Palace
20 bridal couples in three hours. I am sitting in the café of the Sursock Museum. Since its reopening in May 2023, the museum’s entrance area has been an extremely popular photo motif. Sometimes there are five bridal couples at the same time, who have to agree on who gets to pose at the top of the stairs, who gets to pose on the staircase and who gets to pose in front of the main entrance. Some brides wear crowns, others veils or hijabs. All of them are glistening. The day before, a large stage was set up here. The museum needs money. To finance its activities, the Sursock Museum receives five percent of the revenue from all building permits in Beirut. That used to be a large sum. Now the Lebanese Lira is worth almost nothing. It is unclear how the museum will use the exhibition space, which has increased more than fivefold since the 2015 expansion.
Sursock Palace is a stately residence with a magnificent garden on Rue Sursock, less than five minutes away from the museum of the same name. Completed in 1860 by Moïse Sursock, the palace is a symbol of the family’s wealthy history. For many years, it was owned by the Lebanese philanthropist Yvonne, Lady Cochrane, née Sursock, who served as the first general director of the Sursock Museum from 1960 to 1966. After the Lebanese Civil War, she had the palace carefully restored over 20 years before it reopened in 2010. Lady Cochrane died on 30 August 2020 from injuries sustained during the Beirut port explosion. The blast wave hit the building with full force. One of her three sons, Roderick Cochrane, now oversees the palace’s reconstruction.