Destruction in the Bekaa Valley

Almost every piece of metal in sight has been twisted out of shape. Huge steel girders, which once bore the weight of the building with ease, now lie deformed and useless. Metal sheeting has burst like tin foil. Grotesque and yet fascinating, the anatomy of the factory has been exposed.

Bizarrely, some pallets of glass jars are intact, shrink-wrapped and still ready for the produce from the surrounding Bekaa Valley and beyond. For this is the Maliban glass factory, or rather it was, until it was entirely destroyed by five Israeli bombs dropped in a single night. One person was killed in the attack. The 330 people who used to work here are now without jobs.

A short distance away, the Dallal steel fabrication plant at Taanayel also looks like a huge scrap yard. We are told that there had been 25,000 square metres of buildings, assembling pre-fabricated houses. The bombs left craters up to 12 metres deep. Some 600 people worked here at full production. Now about a dozen of them with bulldozers and heavy lifting equipment are clearing away the tangled debris. Even the giant machines are dwarfed by the destruction; it seems like a hopeless task.

Everyone we talk to agrees on one thing: these factories were economic targets during the 34 days of Israeli bombing. They were not places used by Hezbollah to fire rockets deep into Israel - that was much further south, close to the border. If the plan was to exact some kind of collective economic punishment on Lebanon, destroying these plants is what you would do.

On the day we see this destruction, about three weeks after the ceasefire came into force, the air and sea blockade imposed on Lebanon by Israel is finally being lifted.

The economic effects of this war continue long after the bombs and rockets have stopped falling. We hear from a group of volunteers from Caritas Lebanon how they distributed supplies to 2,000 displaced people who turned up in one area. They were accommodated in schools and homes, and aid was also provided for the communities who hosted them. Much of the relief came from other Caritas organisations in various parts of the world like Trócaire, and it went to both Christian and Muslim communities.

But now these communities face longer term problems: the majority of those living in the fertile Bekaa Valley depend on agriculture. They have lost one of their two harvests, as summer fruits and vegetables often went uncollected during the bombing. Even where they were harvested, there was no way to transport them to the main market in Beirut. Many farmers take out loans each year which are paid off when the harvest comes in. They are now stuck with the debts. The big worry is the school fees which are due soon, with many people already living on whatever reserves they had.

So it is no wonder that Lebanon’s economy is expected to contract this year. Unemployment is predicted to double from the current nine per cent, fuelling another wave of emigration. Tourism, which had been doing well in recent years, has collapsed. Hotels and restaurants lie empty; cheery billboards for resorts on Lebanon’s Mediterranean coast now look like an incongruous relic from another era.

As we head back for Beirut, the day is rounded off by another destroyed plant. The Liban Lait dairy is one of the few industrial buildings we pass during the day, and this one too looks as if it’s been turned inside out. There’s a warm welcome from the staff, who are eager to explain what happened - and their plans to rebuild the plant. It’s a strange mixture of worlds: tiled surfaces and stainless steel, all designed for hygiene and efficiency, are now just another part of the rubble. The smell of milk which has gone off in the summer heat hangs everywhere; a roll of labels for cheese products waits on some shelving which somehow survived the blast.

Two men cheerfully finish off the job of demolishing a wall, carefully stacking the blocks as if they’ll be used again. About thirty people are employed in the clear up, out of 270 who used to work there. The management say it will take about two years to rebuild the plant, and losses are estimated at $21 million.

It’s just a small part of the $3.6 billion which the war is thought to have cost the Lebanese economy. The lives of human beings are what we think about most in war, and for a very good reason. But like the human toll, the economic cost of this war will be felt for many years to come.