In Lebanon, the impossible reform of the status of stateless persons
Clément Gibon for Orient XXI
Tens of thousands of people are considered stateless in Lebanon. Due to specific discriminations, they suffer the full force of the crisis that is ravaging the country. The cause: a failing civil status and a nationality law that is more than a century old and difficult to change.
Hassan and Zakieh live with their two children in the informal neighborhood of Hay El-Gharbeh, south of Beirut. While the World Bank says the crisis affecting Lebanon could be ranked among the most severe global crises since the mid-19th century, the two parents try their best to provide for their family. "With the crisis, we live from day to day. We can't project or think about tomorrow. I used to work as a groom at the Beirut racetrack. Because of the financial crisis, I lost that job and now I just do odd jobs that I can find here and there," says Hassan. Zakieh adds, "If one of our children gets sick, we can't take him to the hospital. One of our sons died of sunstroke and we couldn't do anything.
Their situation is even more difficult because both parents are stateless. Statelessness is passed down from generation to generation and is common in the country. Zakieh and Hassan are among the estimated 50,000 to 60,000 registered stateless people according to various NGOs. The law on the transmission and granting of nationality, passed in 1925 during the French mandate, states that "Lebanese women do not transmit their nationality to their children, except in exceptional cases"
Many stateless people would be entitled to Lebanese nationality, but the legal procedures are extremely slow and costly. For example, Zakieh who has the status of maktum al-qayd would need to take a DNA test with her parents for a sum of 1.2 million Lebanese pounds per person. The application fee and the lawyer's fee to apply for nationality would cost the family at least 10 million Lebanese pounds.
Tens of thousands of people are considered stateless in Lebanon. Due to specific discriminations, they suffer the full force of the crisis that is ravaging the country. The cause: a failing civil status and a nationality law that is more than a century old and difficult to change.
Hassan and Zakieh live with their two children in the informal neighborhood of Hay El-Gharbeh, south of Beirut. While the World Bank says the crisis affecting Lebanon could be ranked among the most severe global crises since the mid-19th century, the two parents try their best to provide for their family. "With the crisis, we live from day to day. We can't project or think about tomorrow. I used to work as a groom at the Beirut racetrack. Because of the financial crisis, I lost that job and now I just do odd jobs that I can find here and there," says Hassan. Zakieh adds, "If one of our children gets sick, we can't take him to the hospital. One of our sons died of sunstroke and we couldn't do anything.
Their situation is even more difficult because both parents are stateless. Statelessness is passed down from generation to generation and is common in the country. Zakieh and Hassan are among the estimated 50,000 to 60,000 registered stateless people according to various NGOs. The law on the transmission and granting of nationality, passed in 1925 during the French mandate, states that "Lebanese women do not transmit their nationality to their children, except in exceptional cases"
Many stateless people would be entitled to Lebanese nationality, but the legal procedures are extremely slow and costly. For example, Zakieh who has the status of maktum al-qayd would need to take a DNA test with her parents for a sum of 1.2 million Lebanese pounds per person. The application fee and the lawyer's fee to apply for nationality would cost the family at least 10 million Lebanese pounds.