DUBAI: The wildly popular Egyptian singer Amr Diab performed for an audience of thousands at the Beirut Waterfront in Lebanon on Aug. 19. Tickets went for $60 a piece, with concertgoers asked to wear white to be let in.

During his first performance in Lebanon in 12 years, the singer sported a $500,000 Rolex watch and was reportedly paid $750,000 for the concert and a private wedding show.

While Diab’s Lebanese fans might have been dazzled — if their Instagram posts from the venue were any guide — many found the concert and its star tasteless and insensitive at a time when Lebanon is in the grip of a protracted economic crisis that has pushed 80 percent of the population below the poverty line.

At the same time, some wondered how Diab was able to rally close to 20,000 people to the Beirut Waterfront, while the families affected by the Beirut port blast continue to call in vain for help from their fellow citizens.

The Aug. 4, 2020 Beirut explosion, one of the largest non-nuclear explosions in history, devastated the capital. The impact destroyed the city’s port, damaged over half of the city and killed 218, injuring around 7,000 and leaving an estimated 300,000 homeless.

Diab’s starstruck fans were put on blast by Nasser Yassin, Lebanon’s minister of environment, who strongly criticized the state the venue was left in after the show was over as clips on social media showed the surrounding streets littered with garbage.

In a post on X, the social platform formerly known as Twitter, Yassin called on the company that organized the event to clean the site and adjacent streets at its own expense in accordance with the country’s 2018 Waste Management Law 80.

He also asked the governor of Beirut to issue general cleanliness guidelines and ended his post with the Arabic hashtag that translates to “clean your country.”

Arab netizens also took to X to comment on videos of the concert, posting such sarcastic messages as “the dollar returned to the exchange rate of 1,500 LL and the electricity is back as well.”

Other comments took on a more serious tone, with one social media user saying: “Even if Michael Jackson comes back from the dead to perform, the city remains paralyzed until the victims of the blast get justice.”

Lebanese journalist Omar Kaskas defended the partygoers against criticism in an article posted on Houna Loubnan, writing: “They pointed fingers at Amr Diab’s passionate fans, assigning them the responsibility for the port explosion, the political and financial collapse, and according to some intellectuals, the presidential and governmental void in the country!”

While no one blamed Diab’s fans for Lebanon’s economic misfortune, the concert and the white-clad attendees did illustrate a stark wealth gap that has led to the formation of two parallel societies in a city once known as the Paris of the Middle East.

Beirut has become a city of contrasts, with expensive luxury cars parked outside fancy restaurants and bars while across the street, people rummage through garbage bins searching for something to eat or sell. The economic situation has become so dire that some Lebanese have resorted to robbing their own frozen funds from banks.

The presidential and administrative void in the country is compounded by the governing elite’s failure to form a new government and elect a president. Public sentiment remains indifferent to political developments, with many Lebanese, preoccupied with day-to-day survival, turning a deaf ear to party rhetoric.

Tatiana, a mother of two living in the capital who preferred not to give her family name, told Arab News: “I am ashamed of my current situation, although I am not the one who caused it. I send my girls to school, but I often have to do so with no sandwiches, snacks and treats they can eat during their breaks, or with a meager labneh sandwich that they’ve grown sick of.”

While Tatiana struggles to support her girls, they at least continue to attend school. Many other Lebanese families have been forced to take their children out of school and send them off to work to keep the family from slipping deeper into poverty.

The mother explains that she is forced to “fake a smile and be happy because I don’t want my girls to realize the severity of our situation. How some people can afford to attend concerts, pay in dollars, and have a good time is something I used to understand, but now I can no longer.”

Meanwhile, a looming potential confrontation with its southern neighbor, Israel, threatens to turn Lebanon’s situation from bad to worse. Tensions have steadily escalated between Israel and the Iranian-backed Hezbollah, which wields considerable political influence in Lebanon.

Each has accused the other in recent months of violating UN resolutions governing the boundary established 18 years ago after the withdrawal of Israeli troops from southern Lebanon.

On Thursday, Israel’s Shin Bet security agency announced that four Israeli citizens were arrested in July for suspected ties to Hezbollah, claiming that they were involved in smuggling Iranian-made explosive devices into the country. The next day, Lebanese authorities claimed to have busted “a spy cell working for the Israeli enemy” by arresting two individuals at Beirut airport.

During a war of words earlier this month, the likes of which have not been seen since 2006, Israel’s defense minister and Hezbollah’s secretary-general threatened to send one another’s country “back to the stone age.”

Elio Azar, a Lebanese citizen, told Arab News: “We have been dealing with an imminent war scenario every summer. They can go ahead. We have a joke: It’s not summer unless there’s a threat of war. Anyway, can it really get worse than this?”

The rhetorical question reflects the stark reality of an impoverished country in no position to fight a war, much less recover from the inevitable devastation — something that might further stoke popular anger against the country’s entrenched elites.

A World Bank report published earlier this year described the situation as “among the most severe crises globally since the mid 19th century … with an unprecedented institutional vacuum that will further delay any agreement on crisis resolution and critical reform ratification, deepening the woes of the Lebanese people.”

Since the start of the financial collapse in 2019 until today, the Lebanese currency has lost over 90 percent of its value, while about 80 percent of the population lives under the poverty line.

The International Monetary Fund said last month that the financial crisis is further compounded by the lack of policy action and interests that prompt resistance to reform. The report further explained that without reforms, the public debt could reach 547 percent of the country’s gross domestic product by 2027.

“The continuation of the status quo presents the largest risk to Lebanon’s economic and social stability, taking the country down an unpredictable road,” the report said.

Lebanon signed an agreement with the IMF in April 2022, promising reforms and measures that it has yet to fulfill to secure a full program.

IMF Mission Chief Ernesto Rigo described the situation as “very dire.”

Meanwhile, some experts warn that in case of eruption of another war between Hezbollah and Israel, Lebanon will not be able to rebuild.

“I don’t think Hezbollah can afford a war today,” Michael Young, a senior editor at the Beirut-based Carnegie Middle East Center, told Arab News.

“It will probably be years before Lebanon can rebuild itself because of a dire economic situation. The impact of the war will be felt for a long time, unlike the 2006 war when money quickly entered the country to help rebuild.”

Young added that if the current exchange of threats gave way to an exchange of fire, “the destruction in Lebanon will be so immense that, in a way, what it would do is create a great amount of discontent among the other communities in the country.”

With the country’s currency having lost over 90 percent of its value, the majority of its citizens living under suffocating poverty, and scores of people still recovering from the Beirut blast three years ago, the question on the minds of most Lebanese is: “Can it really get worse than this?”

However, until Lebanon reaches its breaking point, one thing is certain going by the Diab concert. Those with the means to do so will continue to eat, drink and party on, living in their very own Beirut far from the rest of the nation’s grim reality.