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LEBANON: Barakat restoration will sidestep painful memories

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On my routine commute from my home in West Beirut to the Los Angeles Times’ bureau in the eastern part of the city, I pass through what was once the Lebanese capital’s highly dangerous green line.

The area was a no-man’s land, a battle line that split the city between the Christian-inhabited East and the Sunni-dominated West during the civil war between 1975 and 1990.

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In the morning bustle, that bloody episode is almost imperceptible in that part of the city. That is, except for one in-your-face building that still stands as a reminder of how savagely the Lebanese fought each other for 15 years.

The Barakat building, better known as the ‘yellow’ building, still bears many holes left by shrapnel and bullets. During the dark years of the conflict, it was one of the most strategic sites for snipers attached to Christian militias. It was filled with sand bags and brick stones.

But what remains captivating about the yellow building is that it encapsulates the tragic downfall of Beirut from a thriving cosmopolitan city to a devastated war zone.

When it was completed in 1934, it was hailed as an architectural masterpiece. An article in the Lebanese English-language newspaper, The Daily Star, reprinted on the author’s blog, tells the epic story of the building:

With sandstone walls, colonnaded verandas, high ceilings and Art Deco floor patterns, it combined elements and materials of both East and West, old and new. It was an architectural reflection of the era’s cosmopolitan sea changes.

Following a mobilization in the late 1990s by intellectuals and architects to save the building from destruction, authorities seized it from its owners for its great significance to the country’s heritage. They announced that they would restore it.

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For several months now, scaffolding has surrounded the building’s outer facade. Instead of a bombed-out wreck, a plastic sheet is illustrated with an immaculate image of what the restored site will look like.

City elders decided to turn the building into ‘The Museum of the Memory of Beirut.’ To the disappointment of many, the museum will only feature archaeological artifacts pertaining to the ancient history of the city with no trace of its turbulent modern times.

Even 18 years after the end of civil strife, the Lebanese are still highly divided about their country’s sordid recent past. And with all the current political tensions, nobody seems eager to touch the city’s still-painful memories.

Perhaps it would have been better for the building to have remained intact. That would probably be the perfect monument to reflect the dreadful memories of Beirut.

Raed Rafei in Beirut

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