Almost every building lining Syria Street is riddled with bullet holes. Far from being vestiges of Lebanon’s long civil war, these are some of the more recent marks of eight years of sporadic clashes between armed groups and gangs from these communities.Following the last round of violent clashes in October 2014, I went into Syria Street with the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) to assess the humanitarian impact on those living there.
'Syria Street' is an interactive multimedia project by Brandon Tauszik and the International Committee of the Red Cross. Source: Brandon Tauszik/ICRC
While we are used to working in armed conflicts, seeing this particular area was confronting: it was a mini-war zone not 15 minutes from downtown Tripoli and a little more than an hour from Beirut.
How did it carry on like this for eight years while the rest of the country remained relatively stable?The uncannily-named Syria Street acts as the dividing line between the Sunni Muslim residents of Bab al-Tabbaneh and the Alawite Muslim residents of Jabal Mohsen, where poverty, unemployment and underdevelopment are among the highest in Lebanon.
'Syria Street' is an interactive multimedia project by Brandon Tauszik and the International Committee of the Red Cross. Source: Brandon Tauszik/ICRC
Inter-communal violence here flared up several years before Syria’s crisis started in 2011, and that war only further exacerbated existing divisions.
Over the past decade, 200 lives have been lost in the fighting, leading to far-reaching impacts on local society, particularly the youth.
And while the violence has subsided for now, residents fear clashes could erupt again the same way they would end: suddenly, without warning.
Once again this would force them to put their entire lives on hold for weeks on end, as they waited for a lull in the bullets and bombs.The stories of these two communities have been recently documented by the ICRC as part of an immersive designed by visual artist Brandon Tauszik, which aims to give a raw insight into the destructive force that inter-communal violence wreaks on lives and livelihoods not only in this strife-torn region of Lebanon, but in many countries around the world.
'Syria Street' is an interactive multimedia project by Brandon Tauszik and the International Committee of the Red Cross. Source: Brandon Tauszik/ICRC
While it rarely gets the attention that armed conflicts might, urban violence can be just as brutal and disruptive, and the suffering it causes is of crucial concern.
For the past two years we have been working closely with the communities on both sides of Syria Street, as part of efforts to help them recover from the long-standing cycles of violence. During that time I have met countless locals whose lives had been irrevocably changed by the fighting.For Rami, now a young man, the clashes have brought unimaginable tragedy.
'Syria Street' is an interactive multimedia project by Brandon Tauszik and the International Committee of the Red Cross. Source: Brandon Tauszik/ICRC
“In 2008, my house was burned down while my siblings were still inside,” he recounts. “Since then, we no longer fear anything, feel anything or care about anything. We are alive simply because we haven’t died yet.”
Like many other residents, Rami considers prevailing poverty and a common sense of disenfranchisement as the main drivers of the violence.
“When boys grow up seeing their fathers running after what little income they can find, they too will not end up on a good track,” he says.
“I know men here that get paid $100 to pick up a gun, then take that money to feed their family. If someone has seven or eight children, he will do anything for $100.”Residents here might live in constant insecurity, amid armed men and sniper bullets, but it’s clear there is resilience and resourcefulness among both communities, and hope for a better future.
'Syria Street' is an interactive multimedia project by Brandon Tauszik and the International Committee of the Red Cross. Source: Brandon Tauszik/ICRC
Previously bustling with business and trade, Syria Street has potential to move beyond the violence.
Apart from rebuilding community relations, those living here need to feel there are proper services, work opportunities, and a brighter future worth laying down arms for.
“Syria Street has the potential to shine again, but we are all suffering from the same circumstances: no electricity, dirty water, poor sanitation,” says Abbas, a shopkeeper in Babal-Tabbaneh.
“I hope that when my children run this shop they can live here in an atmosphere of tolerance.”
Malak Jaafar works with the International Committee of the Red Cross in Lebanon.