beirut, lebanon – Beirut’s historic Sursok Street, home to majestic Ottoman-era palaces and mansions, is located in the heart of the Akrafieh district and is dotted with green spaces, winding streets and small eateries, and is an architectural and Attracts lovers of cultural heritage.
Most people are familiar with the stunning stained glass windows of the Sursok Museum and the magnificent stucco ceilings of the opposite building, the Sursok Palace. These were the residences of the noble Sursok family, a wealthy merchant with political ties to the Ottoman Empire and one of Beirut's seven founding families.
But a lesser-known historical gem lies on the same street.
Tucked away behind overgrown iron gates, the slate-blue Villa Mokbel is a former property of Sursok dating back to 1870, rarely open to the public, but photographed after the 2020 port explosion. Convincing photographs of the destroyed and destroyed villas were taken. The mural peeking through the collapsed walls greatly increased its profile.
The explosion was caused by 2,750 tons of improperly stored ammonium nitrate igniting, killing 218 people, injuring 7,000, and leaving approximately 300,000 homeless. The explosion was the third largest in history after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the force of the explosion hit Villa Mokbel.
“The Sursock property was the first beautiful and large villa outside Beirut,” villa owner Georgie Mokbel, who inherited the property from his father, told Al Jazeera. “They brought in architects from Italy and worked with Lebanese craftsmen to create this unique Venetian-Florentine style with a bit of Ottoman influence.”
Mokbel further notes that architects of Lebanese houses being built or renovated in the Gemmayzeh and meadows down the hill from the wealthy Ashrafieh district have begun to imitate this style on a smaller scale, but still use triple-arcade windows. He added that it had red roof tiles. “Prior to this period, roof tiles were not used in Lebanon. Today, this architecture is considered a typical house, a blend of Ottoman, Lebanese, and Italian architecture.”
Still spectacular after all these years
The villa, which became known as Villa Mokbel, was originally owned by Alexander Sursock. In the 1930s, a branch of the Alexander family married into the Italian royal family and left Lebanon, and the villa was put up for sale.
Purchased by multiple families, the luxurious 2,000 square meter (21,527 square foot) mansion was at some point (Mokbel doesn't know when) divided into smaller apartments. Mokbel's grandfather, Gebran Mokbel, a construction worker turned real estate businessman, was one such investor. He purchased a stake in the villa, believing its palatial halls to be an attractive investment.
The stunning three-story villa has ornate doors, triple arches, a sweeping marble staircase, intricate ceilings with gold leaf decoration, and a golden oval glass cupola in the atrium. It is attached. Light pours in from the soaring ceilings and large windows, creating a spacious atmosphere. And although the mansion is in dire need of repair, with ceilings in need of repair and balconies and walls in need of rebuilding, it still retains the grandeur and beauty of its glory days.
In particular, Georgie Mokbel loves the intricate details of the plaster ceilings and cove decorations in many of the rooms, which contain symbols and scenes that remind us of their original function. The dining room is decorated with classical depictions of fruit, wheat chaff, and a treasury of fertility, while the entertainment room features gilded musical instruments.
Over the years, the villa has hosted huge parties. Due to the Thursox family's bourgeois status and political affiliations, they often hosted foreign dignitaries, royalty, and Lebanese high society. It was later used as a filming set for Italian director Nino's Zantin's 1969 film The Promise of Beirut, and also served as a school. But now it's empty.
scars of civil war
The villa also bears the scars of the 1975-1990 Beirut Civil War, a bloody battle between sectarian militias that killed around 150,000 people, and other conflicts. Most notably, the mansion was torn apart in the port explosion on August 4, 2020. The stone walls collapsed and the ornate ceiling caved in.
Many people have been wondering about this villa since a photo by photographer Dia Murad published in Vanity Fair magazine showed a mural of famous Lebanese poet and writer Khalil Gibran visible through a collapsed wall. It must be the first time you've seen it. Gibran's solemn and sad gaze as he gazed outside captured the devastation felt by many, as if he too was lamenting the current situation in Beirut.
More than just a stately home, this villa dates back to World War II. Later, the Lebanese state asked owners for permission to store grain in the cellars of their villas, “because they feared a World War I-like famine,” Mokbel said.
From 1915 to 1918, the Great Mount Lebanon Famine killed 200,000 people. Allied forces had blockaded the Eastern Mediterranean to weaken the economy and war effort of the Ottoman Empire, which had sided with Germany and Austria-Hungary. The famine was one of Lebanon's darkest moments, as Ottoman Fourth Army commander Jamal Pasha banned crop imports from neighboring Syria in response to an allied blockade, and a locust outbreak.
After the collapse of the Ottoman Empire immediately after World War I, Lebanon became a French mandate in 1923, and became independent in 1943, during the middle of World War II. The newly formed government was keen to avoid a repeat of past events and tried to prepare for starvation in case a blockade was imposed. In 1945, Lebanon joined the Allied war effort against Germany and Japan.
The agreement to store grain in the villa was exactly for that time and purpose. Many owners sold their stocks at a loss, leaving the house empty. However, the government eventually turned the villa into a school for under-18 students in the early 1950s, and it was not until 2000 that Mokbel's family was forced to evict them, along with a court judge. They did not leave the building, he explains.
At that point, Mokbel's uncle and father had bought out the rest of the family with the intention of renovating the mansion. Historic buildings are popular for their nostalgic charm, and the family wanted to preserve this wonderful example of Lebanon's history. “We renamed it Villa Mokbel,” he says.
However, the building had undergone minimal maintenance by the government for 60 years and was in a “terrible state”. The Mokbel family has made superficial repairs to the space, patching holes left by the war and replacing plaster and paint, to allow for functional reuse of the space, but a complete historic restoration is in the offing. It was far from it.
Villa Mokbel was then loaned to Pige University, Lebanon's oldest business school, for several years. Needing funds for repairs, the family chose to use the vacation home as a business and use part of the rent to pay for repairs. However, the 2006 war with Israel damaged the villa again, and both the lease and further renovation plans were halted as the school sought a new home in the Hamra area.
In 2008, communications company MC Search discovered the villa and fell in love with it, offering to reduce the rent and fully restore it. Within three years, the mansion was restored to its former glory, and the company remained a tenant until his 2020 port explosion forced them to vacate.
“A symbol of Beirut's golden age”
Three years after the explosion, Villa Mokbel is once again in need of serious restoration. Unlike other damaged buildings in Beirut, Mokbel was not eligible for aid because it was on “private property,” he said, adding that a local NGO, the Beirut Heritage Initiative, “received a little help. '' he added.
Meanwhile, Mokbel is opening the villa to visitors and hopes to spark interest from businesses looking to renovate the villa to use it as a boutique hotel, restaurant or venue for parties and other events. “It costs a lot of money to restore a place like this,” he says. Restoring heritage buildings requires many materials and specialized skills.
In March 2024, We Design Beirut, a new design fair for local crafts and talent, will use the villa, “a symbol of Beirut’s golden age” as the stage for one of its main showcases, and under the theme will feature local and international designers. of preservation. One of her is an intricate tapestry that imitates the villa's three arcaded windows and ornate balconies, hung in place of the missing walls and windows.
The exhibition, which celebrates Lebanese tradition, craftsmanship and architecture, may also help raise awareness about the plight of Villa Mokbel.
“We chose this beautiful villa for the exhibition because they couldn’t get help from NGOs,” said We Design Beirut. co-founder Mariana Wehbe told Al Jazeera. “The villa is presented as a living space and can tell its story as much as the design pieces on display,” she added. “A lot of people didn't even know this place existed, so it's great to be able to actually see this place and never know what's going to happen from there.”
Until someone figures out a more permanent future for Villa Mokbel, it will remain in limbo. The family is trying to repair what they can while seeking help from new sources. Mokbel is optimistic that someone will understand the architectural and historical significance of the high-rise mansion and want to support it.
Beirut is full of abandoned historical buildings that are on the verge of collapse. After the Civil War, the owners lacked the funds needed to restore such a site and it was left to rot. In the post-war 1990s, many were demolished to sell the land to real estate developers as a cheaper option than restoration.
The fight to save palaces like Villa Mokbel from such a fate has been a family mission for generations.
“My grandfather and father always dreamed that they could live in this space, but it never happened,” Mokbel said. “Nevertheless, I think it's important to keep this house alive as much as possible. It's an honor to protect and preserve this heritage. Our family believes that old houses have a history, an identity, a charm and a great I think it's worth it.
“The way people think about old homes is changing, and people are more interested in and value older homes now than they were 20 or 30 years ago. The person who receives it should love it too. .”