Partying for Lebanon

The calm before the storm: the staff at Sky Bar prepare for an evening of revelry.

The day after a newly remodeled Sky Bar opened in the port of Beirut last July, the Israeli air-force began bombing Lebanon. The nightclub's had better luck this year. Since opening for the summer season in May, Sky Bar has become the most successful, most lucrative nightclub in Lebanon, according to its owner, Shafic El Khazen. It's tables are all booked out a month in advance, and each one generates a bar tab of about $1,000 a night.

Sky's Bar success is just one example of Lebanon's bizarre conflict economy. Mired in war and reconstruction debt, the tourism-dependent country was fragile even before the latest political crises and terrorist campaign scarred away most foreign visitors. But while most Lebanese are feeling the squeeze of hard times, there's a small but highly visible crowd that keeps partying like there's no tomorrow.

For decades, Lebanon's openness to things like alcohol, unveiled women, and Western social mores, set it apart from the rest of the region. But the nightclub culture took on new meaning during the 1975 to 1990 Civil War, when a certain joie de vivre in the face of danger became part of the national character. Now some of the current generation rationalizes its fun loving ways as part of their defiance to foreign powers and domestic political parties -- Iran, Syria, and Hizballah -- that wants Lebanon to turn away from the West.

Still the current troubles aren't without its costs. In normal times, visiting Gulf Arabs or wealthy Lebanese expatriates typically spent $20,000 to $30,000 a night in expensive champagne. "The heavyweights are all gone," said El Khazen.

--Andrew Lee Butters/Beirut