Today, on my second trip to the Bekaa, I saw yet another side of Lebanese culture. Though we were visiting an academic farm at the invitation of our hosts at American University of Beirut, it was interesting to view a little bit of the agriculture here.
The AUB farm – called the Agricultural Research and Education Center (AREC) is a teaching and experimental facility in the Bekaa valley, a sunny strip of fertile land nestled between the Lebanon and Antilebanon mountain ranges. Because it sits in the rain shadow of the towering Mount Lebanon, the area only gets around half a meter of rain a year. However, the farms that still exist there do well thanks to an aquifer sitting beneath the valley floor. Fed by melting snow from the mountains, it is this water that feeds the farms of Lebanon.
Olives, grapes, potatoes, tomatoes, cucumber and okra all grow well in the Levantine climate. Orchards of fruit trees like apricots, peaches, plums, and apples are also common throughout the valley. AREC is working on new methods of irrigation and cultivation, for the aquifer that the Bekaa depends on becomes lower every year. As the climate warms more water is lost to evaporation and the snow-pack on Mount Lebanon becomes less and less.
Climate change is not the greatest risk to Lebanese agriculture, however. There is a very clear apathy on the part of many Lebanese youth and the government itself toward farmers’ issues. Though there is a Ministry of Agriculture in the Lebanese government there are no farm subsidies to speak of. Tending to crops and livestock is very labor intensive, not the kind of work the trend-setting younger generation envisions for itself. Finally, sprawling development encroaches on the fertile lands of the Bekaa from all directions. Land that could be prime farm land is becoming villas, shops, apartment complexes and industrial sites. As one generation ages into retirement there are few young people left with the interest or ability to work their family’s land – this land then becomes real estate to be developed.
All of these problems trouble Nicholas El Haddad, the farm and facilities manager at AREC. He does not know what the future holds for agriculture in Lebanon. While AUB’s facility is capable of training a new generation of agricultural engineers, most of the knowledge imparted there is taken overseas. He has to tread a fine line between providing up-to-date knowledge and equipment for his students and dealing with a steeply reduced budget.
There are deeper cultural implications for the decline of Lebanese agriculture – one thing my friends and I have noticed while enjoying the cuisine here is the freshness of the food – the tomatoes have that vine-ripened texture and the heirloom flavor. The cucumbers are too crisp to have been refrigerated for long periods of time. Cheeses and yogurts are perfect – never too sharp, never too mild. The olives are orgasmic.
Almost all of the classic dishes here are entirely dependent on fresh and raw ingredients. If there are fewer and fewer farms in Lebanon to provide fresh ingredients for the cuisine, then Lebanese cooking cannot go on as it has for centuries.
Our lunch was served cafeteria style, and I did not expect it to be very good until I began to sample the food. Among the items available to us were three fresh plums just plucked from the orchards of AREC. I was shocked at the sweet juices that poured forth from the fruit when I first bit into them, dripping over my chin and staining my shirt. I had never had a plum so perfect.
I think back to my readings of Wendell Berry, a man convinced that simple agriculture is the ultimate link between a people and a place. I think back to my basic sociology, where I learned that the source of all culture in the world was the development of agriculture and the surplus that allowed people to break free from the subsistence lifestyle and diversify their duties.
Remember that the Bekaa valley was once the breadbasket of the Roman Empire. Ruins like the towering Temple of Jupiter in Balbeck stand as witnesses testifying to its importance. The fruits of its harvest are the key to one of the greatest culinary traditions I have ever encountered. The Lebanese government – and the Lebanese people – should be doing more to ensure the continuation of their agricultural traditions. This is an endangered heritage that is worth protecting, just like the Cedars of God, just like the ruins at Balbeck.
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