Nahr el Bared Camp, The Catastrophe of 2007
I arrived at Nahr el Bared Palestinian refugee Camp in North
Lebanon last Thursday night. It is not really the camp, but the area adjacent to
the original camp, otherwise known as the new camp. For the original camp was
obliterated in the summer of 2007 in a battle between the Lebanese army and a
little known group called Fatah al Islam.
The day following my arrival, I took a look at the
construction of homes at the edge of the camp.
I saw several multi story building. The construction seemed just like
any large housing development in any part of the world. Since I was not allowed to enter the original
camp, I turned back with incongruous feelings, while happy to see a light at
the end of the suffering tunnel for about 40,000 who were left homeless since
summer 2007; at the same time I saw the construction project just a shelter to provide
housing for the new refugees. For the collective memory of the community was
demolished under the shelling and later under the bulldozers of the so called
rebuilding efforts.
I expounded n my book “Children of Catastrophe” on the
destruction of the camp in summer 2007. Three years since this catastrophe, the
area continued to be a closed military area. Access to the part adjacent to the
original camp is controlled by army check points. No Palestinian is allowed to
enter the camp without a special permit issued by head of the Lebanese army
information unit (military intelligence) in north Lebanon. The camp, which is
under slow moving construction, is further isolated from its old residence. The
area is cordoned by barbed wires and another special permit is needed to enter
the original camp.
This means that approximately 20,000 people who moved back
to live either in their damaged homes or rented car garages in the new camp must
have a permit to come back to their home. Identification cards are checked and
compared to a companion permits before being allowed entry. In 1997 I was in
Gaza where I observed similar conditions to the people in Gaza, but in reverse.
It was much easier at the time to enter into Gaza but was much more difficult
to leave the doomed strip. Only those with special permit were able to depart
Gaza. In Nahr el Bared, only those with special permit are allowed to enter. I understand
the exit permit was removed following protestation from camp residents.
Tomorrow is the Eid when camp residents visit the old
cemetery, and this year they are promised open access. Tomorrow, I’ll join
along with thousands of camp’s homeless for the less than ½ a mile walk passing
by my old neighborhood which I had visited in 2008 and 2009. In 2008, I noticed
an army officer who was belligerent with couple of young men carrying the
Palestinian flag. This year, I learned that this same officer was arrested for
being an Israeli Spy. The officer’s first name was Bulos from the Lebanese town
of Amcheet.
In that December day 2008, I was overwhelmed by the scene of
the flattened homes, where I was not able to recognize the remnants of my
childhood home, below is a section from the book explaining my encounter:
“I did not recognize any of the scenes
that passed before my eyes. The place looked more like a Hollywood film set
than a community that had housed more than forty thousand people. And then we
reached our neighborhood, and he said this was our play area, and over there
you can see the vestige of our childhood home. My brother Majed caught up with
us and disagreed [with my younger brother Kamal] about which demolished
structure was our home. I was completely befuddled by the tableau. This was the
house I had lived in for the first eighteen years of my life, this was the
neighborhood where I swam, fished, labored, sold aggregate and bones. This was
supposed to be the place of my childhood and adolescent memories. This was the
house and the neighborhood I had last visited three years earlier. And yet, it
bore absolutely no resemblance to anything I could remember.
Although, in my memories, I can still
internally visualize my childhood home and neighborhood, the sight of the ruins
in front of me felt as if the first eighteen years of my life had been
eradicated.”
The 2009 visit was different as the destroyed homes were
graded leaving no resemblance to what was once the home for more than 6000
houses. I should expect to see tomorrow new construction of the new school
campus and one of about eight promised sections to house the displaced 40,000
residents. The school should be ready
for the new school year in the fall 2011; the first part of the housing construction
is promised to be available for some residence sometimes next year.
When the promised construction is completed, it will bring
accommodations to house those who were left homeless since summer 2007. But no structure is able to bring back the
collective memory for its 40,000 inhabitants. It certainly will never bring my
memory of the happy or gloomy days in the camp that represented Palestine away
from Palestine for 60 years before its demise.