The Guardian (USA)

Funding cuts to UN aid agency threaten new crisis in Lebanon

- Edmund Bower in Beirut

Dr Qassem Salah’s 6,500 patients include many with life-threatenin­g conditions. His small clinic in Beirut’s Mar Elias refugee camp treats cancer patients, those in need of open-heart surgery and at least two people with acute schizophre­nia.

It is operated by the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (Unrwa), which supports up to 250,000 Palestinia­ns in Lebanon. They are ineligible for state healthcare but priced out of the private market, says Salah: “There is no alternativ­e for Palestinia­ns.” Without Unrwa, he says, his most critically ill patients “surely will die”.

Palestinia­ns in Lebanon rely on Unrwa for basic services such as healthcare and education. The decision by more than a dozen donors – which together contribute­d about two-thirds of Unrwa’s funding last year – to freeze payments has left the organisati­on’s operations facing collapse.

After Israel alleged that Unrwa staff members took part in the 7 October attacks, which killed more than 1,200 people, donors threatened to cut $450m (£350m) funding from the $880m budget, just as the need for its services in Gaza was at its peak. Cuts also threaten its activities in the West Bank, Jordan, Syria and Lebanon.

The Lebanese government is warning that the suspension of Unrwa’s services could create a humanitari­an catastroph­e that threatens the country’s stability. Unrwa runs 150 sites across Lebanon on a budget of about $180m a year, according to Unrwa’s director there, Dorothée Klaus.

In places such as Mar Elias, these services are a lifeline for Palestinia­ns. In addition to the clinic, Unrwa runs a primary school for 277 pupils – at 95%, the attendance rate for Palestinia­ns in Lebanon is higher than the regional average – and a small water-treatment facility.

It also runs waste-collection services and has helped to pave the narrow streets between Mar Elias’s colourfull­y painted tenements with concrete patterned to resemble flagstones.

“It’s almost like a village,” says Unrwa’s camp services officer, Ferial Kiwan. She says Mar Elias is quiet and clean, as well as being smaller and more peaceful than most of Lebanon’s 12 camps, the worst of which suffer from high crime rates and poor sanitation.

The camp was establishe­d on church grounds to host Christian Palestinia­ns

after the 1948 Nakba (“Catastroph­e”), in which more than 750,000 people were displaced or expelled from their homes during the creation of Israel and the resulting Arab-Israeli war. It has since become home to 1,700 residents of different faiths, the majority of whom were born in Lebanon.

Despite its peacefulne­ss, unemployme­nt is rife and deprivatio­n is high. Across the country, 80% of Palestinia­ns live in poverty. Growing up in the camps, Kiwan says, “makes you a different person”.

Palestinia­ns are barred from attending Lebanon’s schools, accessing state healthcare or owning property in the country. Most Palestinia­ns in employment have low-paying jobs in the informal sector, but since the economic crisis hit in 2019, these jobs have become harder to find. A recent Unrwa recruitmen­t drive for 30 sanitation workers received 38,000 applicants, including many with higher degrees.

Unrwa is one of the few employers offering white-collar positions to Palestinia­ns. “It is the dream of every Palestinia­n to find a job there,” says Tarek Moneim, chief executive of Initiate, a programme that supports empowermen­t and entreprene­urship among young Palestinia­ns in Lebanon.

Unrwa employs about 3,500 people in Lebanon; the vast majority, like Kiwan, are Palestinia­n. With so many of their relatives out of work, she says, “every Unrwa staff member is supporting two or three families”.

For young Palestinia­ns in particular, Moneim says it is “super-difficult” to earn an income. Children growing up in the camps “start to lose hope and ambition”, he says, seeing few opportunit­ies for themselves beyond emigrating to Europe or joining a militant group at home.

“Without Unrwa, I see a lot of violence inside the camps and a humanitari­an crisis,” he says. “If it ever collapses, it will be a black day.”

Lebanon is already suffering from an economic crisis that has wiped out more than half its economy, and a border conflict between Hezbollah and Israeli forces that has displaced thousands of people and threatens to spread to the rest of the country.

Speaking in Beirut earlier this month, the caretaker prime minister, Najib Mikati, warned that Unrwa was critical for maintainin­g stability in Lebanon and that its collapse could result in “unforeseen consequenc­es”.

The potential for unrest in the camps was made clear last summer, when three months of interfacti­onal fighting in the Ain al-Hilweh refugee camp left dozens of people dead and many more wounded, according to reports. Gunmen from Fatah, the dominant faction of the Palestine Liberation Organisati­on, fought street battles with Islamist militants after the assassinat­ion of a Fatah commander. More than 2,500 families were forced to find temporary accommodat­ion, according to Unrwa.

According to Abdelnasse­r el-Ayi, the director of the Lebanese Palestinia­n Dialogue Committee, unrest in the camps poses “a security threat for Lebanon’s stability”.

“Unrwa is a stabilisin­g actor,” he says. “Leaving the people without any services would make people much more inclined to join the [militant] groups, who actually can offer them money and can offer them survival. They are already in terrible living conditions.”

One of Unrwa’s most effective interventi­ons in Lebanon is the quarterly distributi­on of small cash payments to the most vulnerable indi

viduals, which go to 65% of the 145,000 registered refugees. The organisati­on’s distributi­on of $50 handouts four times a year for children, elderly and chronicall­y ill people has reduced poverty levels from 93% to 80%, Unrwa says.

But the threat of funding cuts has put this quarter’s payments in jeopardy and the people who rely on them “are already getting restless”, says Klaus.

“We’re having to see where we can still find a bit of money,” she says, “and then we will have to make some hard decisions.”

 ?? ?? A clinic run by Unrwa at Mar Elias camp for Palestinia­n refugees in Beirut. Unrwa runs about 150 sites across Lebanon on a budget of about $180m a year. Photograph: Mohamed Azakir/Reuters
A clinic run by Unrwa at Mar Elias camp for Palestinia­n refugees in Beirut. Unrwa runs about 150 sites across Lebanon on a budget of about $180m a year. Photograph: Mohamed Azakir/Reuters
 ?? Azakir/Reuters ?? Unrwa runs the only school in Beirut’s Mar Elias refugee camp. Photograph: Mohamed
Azakir/Reuters Unrwa runs the only school in Beirut’s Mar Elias refugee camp. Photograph: Mohamed

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