'Even in war, life must go on'

Beirut, Jul 22: Even in the darkest days of their 1975-1990 civil conflict, the Lebanese were never known to let war get in the way of a good party.

Propping up the few bars still open in Beirut, some night owls are proving again that, even under fire, life must go on.

''Why should I be afraid? I was born during the war. I wasn't afraid as a child and I'm not going to be afraid now. I've been shot at and people have died in front of me,'' said Paul Chahine, leaning over the bar at the Torino pub in Gemayze, a Christain part of Beirut. ''This is a way to be defiant.'' Usually filled with traffic and young Lebanese out on the town, Gemayze's bars and restaurants have been largely deserted since Israel began bombarding Lebanon 10 days ago in retaliation for the capture of two Israeli soldiers by Hizbollah guerrillas.

The shutters are down and lights out at all but a handful of bars, which decided to reopen after a couple of days closure, partly as it became clear that the area was unlikely to be targeted and partly because people just need something to divert them from constant television news coverage of the conflict.

''It is just the frustration. People are trying to escape things but at the same time no one can stop talking about it,'' said Mohammed Shreif, who opened Laila's, the bar he runs with his friend in Gemayze after a three-day closure.

''Most of the people there don't want to go home. They are scared and don't want this induced fun to end.'' Cosmopolitan Beirut has arguably the best nightlife in the Arab world, attracting droves of wealthy Arabs from the Gulf for the summer and increasing numbers of Europeans and Americans.

In its 1960s golden age, Beirut was known as the playground of the Middle East. Known for their gritty stoicism, Beirutis always found ways to enjoy themselves, even under shelling and with their country divided. The seaside capital was beginning to regain some of its old allure when the latest crisis broke.

BEIRUT STOICISM

''This is my last night in Beirut. I am being evacuated and I just want to enjoy myself,'' Annick Detroyer, a Belgian tourist, said on Tuesday. ''It is too bad because this is a nice country. It is too bad it is always being disrupted by some conflict.'' More than 310 Lebanese, the vast majority civilians, have been killed in the Israeli assault and at least 32 Israeli civilians and troops have lost their lives in Hizbollah attacks.

But most of the damage has been done to the towns and villages of southern Lebanon and to the Shi'ite Muslim southern suburb of Beirut, Hizbollah strongholds.

Other areas have been spared the worst and with so many people displaced from the southern suburb, Hamra, Beirut's prime shopping and cafe district during the civil war and still one of the busiest parts of the capital, is almost bustling in the day.

Downtown Beirut, rebuilt from the ruins of the civil war, is an almost entirely commercial area that has remained deserted.

''This is a type of defiance,'' said Naaman Kiwan, assistant manager of Blue Note, which opened in 1987, in the midst of war.

''We had live music and it used to be very crowded because there were few bars open in Beirut. It's quiet tonight but soon people will get used to the situation and start coming back.'' And in true Beirut style, some hardy souls were not about to ruin their tan because of a few bombs.

''I have been going to the beach every afternoon. What are we supposed to do? Stay at home and watch the news all the time? It gets depressing,'' said Nazha Merebi, a graphic designer.

''During the Israeli invasion in 1982, Israeli tanks were parked on the corniche and I would walk between them to cross to the beach.

I did that every day then and I won't stop now.''

REUTERS