But those who are familiar with constitutional affairs consider that the word «settlement» by itself is devoid of any effect on the Lebanese state of affairs.
Settlement is prohibited in the Constitution by virtue of Paragraph «I» of its preamble, stipulating that the «Lebanese territory is one for all Lebanese… There shall be no segregation of the people on the basis of any type of belonging, and no fragmentation, partition, or settlement of non-Lebanese in Lebanon».
2015 had already started off with new terms for refugees, adding to their financial and moral burdens; the residence renewal fee for an individual above 15 years of age amounts to USD200, let alone the official paperwork fees required by the bureaucracy of the Lebanese administration for renewing the residence, which also cost around USD75.
Between the beginning and end of last year, the tragedy of this new asylum remained. And while the sober-minded voices pinpointing the resulting crisis and its repercussions on the social and economic Lebanese welfare cannot be ignored, the same goes for the aggravation of the suffering of these refugees caused by the prolonged war back in their homeland.
But where is the Syrian opinion regarding what is being said about settlement, work and not returning? And what are the conditions of the Syrians currently residing in Lebanon due to the deteriorating situation in their countries?
Abdel Salam, a Syrian refugee living in the warehouse of an under construction commercial building in the «Jnah» area, in Beirut’s southern suburb (Dahieh), says that the problem of the sponsor is the toughest yet in his grim situation.
He adds: «This is why we have made arrangements, and agreed on raising money among us to give it to the most capable of finding a steady job to secure a sponsor and pay for residence. Those who cannot do that, in addition to women, remain illegal».
Needless to say, Abdel Salam wants to return home. Who doesn’t? He adds: «School and medical care are free back there. Here, I am living with my wife, five kids and nephew in a 30 m2 room. I pay one hundred dollars a month. We are letting go off the power cut most of the times, but we buy drinking water».
When asked why he did not migrate within Syria instead of enduring this suffering, he replied: «We tried to, we moved inside Syria, but the danger kept following us. Here we feel safe».
This is the case of the majority of Syrians who are poor and are seasonal workers. Security is their first concern. Securing an income that spares them poverty comes in second place, so they bitterly accept asylum. Their suffering shows by simply observing them in one of the General Security departments; they stand in queues, sometimes for hours on end, then go back, disappointed, only to return the next day and stand in queue to be able to finish their paperwork. Getting to the General Security queues is considered an advanced step compared to the hardship of finding a sponsor.
Mounzer, who has secured an income by working as a janitor in one of the eastern suburbs of Beirut for the last nine years, did not find someone to sponsor him. He does not understand why this procedure was imposed upon him. He used to travel between Lebanon and Syria with no restrictions. The current situation confused him and his stay is considered to be illegal. Since this law was issued, he is in a state of semi-forced stay and does not move outside of his working place.
He was once interrogated by a security checkpoint and claimed that his papers were being renewed. He «got away with it». But «one can only be lucky once».
For the time being, leaving Lebanon to return to Syria is not an option for Mounzer. He says: «I have to stay here. Where would I go? I have three kids: two daughters who are attending a public school and a little boy whose turn is not up yet». He believes that the war won’t end in Syria, so he sent after his family to move in with him a year ago.
Mounzer has a house in his Syrian village; he has not seen it in almost four years. He is not sure of whether it still exists or has become rubble. He is drawn to security in Lebanon, even if sentenced to curfew. His sister lives in Tripoli but he cannot visit, and he certainly does not contemplate immigration at all. From here to Syria and from Syria to Lebanon. This is the map of his life.
The hardships of asylum are not limited to the poor, even when classified as residency, as put by a Syrian lady living in Beirut to spare her son the military conscription states; adding that her daughter is pursuing her medical studies in the American University of Beirut.
The lady, who prefers to be kept unknown, considers the high cost of living to be the worst concern; it is a concern uniting Lebanese and Syrians, who were forced to leave their country. She pays the electricity and water bills twice, in addition to the house rent amounting to USD1,100 monthly. She adds: «Despite all what is happening back home, prices in Damascus remain cheaper. The tough part is that our income is in Syrian Pounds and all our payments in Lebanon are in US dollars».
Her situation, as her related information indicate, suggest that she is well-off, or that she belongs to the relatively well-off middle class, even if she does not explicitly declare it. The fear of imposing military service upon her son is however the primary reason behind this forced displacement. She is considering returning to her Damascene home once she settles the exemption fees amounting to USD800, in a year and a half, as she points out.
She explains that her son does not want to stay in Lebanon or resort to immigration same as other young Syrians are doing, so he turned down an opportunity to travel to Germany. She adds that he is currently self-employed and is getting requests for performing some work, but the amount he gets paid in return is not sufficient to cover half the cost of living in Lebanon.
She does not rule out returning to Damascus with her son once the military service issue is resolved, while her daughter lives in the student university dorms. She adds: «The situation in Damascus is much better than before; many people went back there from Lebanon, Egypt and Turkey».
Returning, then, is a top priority for this lady who dreams of ending the nightmare of the collapse of her social and economic security. While she thanks God for not having endured any embarrassments during her stay in Lebanon, she does not deny however the frustration bred by the formal procedures imposing new restrictions on the issue of residence. She explains that a Lebanese family friend is sponsoring her and her son, while the university is sponsoring her daughter. She also explains that the problem with the General Security is the lack of organization; Syrians are jostling like herds in its departments, they feel humiliated. One of them, upon inquiring several times about his papers, got slapped by a General Security officer. This is horrible.
The middle-class-Syrians do not object the Lebanese formalities. The problem lies in the implementation, as George Halabi, 70 years-old, puts it. He explains that he owns an apartment in Mansourieh (Mount Lebanon) and has lived there for more than 20 years. His daughter is married to a Lebanese. However, and a couple of times, he has found himself in difficult and humiliating situations due to the chaos in implementing those formalities. Things did not work out for him until his son-in-law sponsored him to obtain a yearly renewable residence permit.
One of the ladies who holds a 10-year French residence permit said she can enter Lebanon for a period of one month, after which she has to leave. So she needed her son-in-law to sponsor her in order to move easily between Beirut and Damascus, but she does not think of settling in Lebanon at all. She is pained by the scene of displaced Syrians at the borders. She says they should all go back and live in secure Syrian areas, because the humiliation of displacement is harder than war.
As for Omar, who also works as a janitor in Beirut, immigration is his one and only dream. He says: «Never have I imagined that one day I would end up like this. Not a single resident of the building I’ve been working in for the last ten years accepted to be my sponsor. They treated me as if I had a contagious disease, until a friend of mine, probably poorer than I am, bailed me out. We went more than four times to the General Security; we waited for hours to get the sponsorship paperwork done, while those who pull strings were in and out in minutes».
Omar does not want to go back to his village in Syria. He says: «My kids have no future there». He does not want to stay in Lebanon either. He is waiting to sort his situation and immigrate to a country that recognizes human rights, and does not humiliate those who are already doomed, as he angrily he says.