This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/19/opinion/lebanon-bank-robberies.html

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
When Robbing Your Own Bank Account Is the Only Option When Robbing Your Own Bank Account Is the Only Option
(3 days later)
BEIRUT, Lebanon — Last month a photo of 28-year-old Sali Hafiz went viral. In the image she was standing on a desk, dressed in black with yellow sneakers, a gun — a realistic toy — in one hand and a phone in the other. She was in the middle of robbing a bank. Though, maybe “robbing” isn’t the right word for it: She wanted to make a withdrawal; she was just done asking politely. BEIRUT, Lebanon — Last month a photo of the 28-year-old Sali Hafiz went viral. In the image she was standing on a desk, dressed in black with yellow sneakers, a gun — a realistic toy — in one hand and a phone in the other. She was in the middle of robbing a bank. Though, maybe “robbing” isn’t the right word for it: She wanted to make a withdrawal; she was just done asking politely.
Ms. Hafiz was not the first account holder in Lebanon to resort to these tactics; there has been a spate of similar holdups at banks across the country since January. But in September there was something of a crescendo, with about 12 over the course of the month. And many Lebanese cheered the perpetrators on — sometimes from right outside the banks while the holdups were taking place. Lebanon is in the third year of a profound economic crisis. The Lebanese pound has lost over 90 percent of its value, annual inflation in 2021 was over 150 percent, and people are struggling to afford food and electricity. There has been catharsis in seeing citizens challenge the institutions that many feel have humiliated them.Ms. Hafiz was not the first account holder in Lebanon to resort to these tactics; there has been a spate of similar holdups at banks across the country since January. But in September there was something of a crescendo, with about 12 over the course of the month. And many Lebanese cheered the perpetrators on — sometimes from right outside the banks while the holdups were taking place. Lebanon is in the third year of a profound economic crisis. The Lebanese pound has lost over 90 percent of its value, annual inflation in 2021 was over 150 percent, and people are struggling to afford food and electricity. There has been catharsis in seeing citizens challenge the institutions that many feel have humiliated them.
But in recent weeks the cheers have quieted into indifference. The robberies were not the start of an organized fight-back, but another forced adaptation to our new reality. Much as we ask friends and relatives who travel abroad to act as pill couriers because medicines are unaffordable or unavailable, or we navigate pitch-black and potholed roads with nothing but our wits: If we want the savings that have been held hostage for three years, we might have to rob the bank. But in recent weeks the cheers have quieted into indifference. The robberies were not the start of an organized fight-back but another forced adaptation to our new reality. Much as we ask friends and relatives who travel abroad to act as pill couriers because medicines are unaffordable or unavailable, or we navigate pitch-black and potholed roads with nothing but our wits: If we want the savings that have been held hostage for three years, we might have to rob the bank.
In October 2019 a scheme to keep the Lebanese pound pegged to the dollar collapsed. The country’s commercial banks had been offering customers exceptionally high interest rates on their savings accounts, which financed loans to the central bank. But by the late 2010s the only way the central bank could repay those loans plus interest was by borrowing more. A government-sanctioned Ponzi scheme, in effect. When it fell apart, the value of the pound crashed and the banks — citing anti-government protests — closed their doors. While banks were closed to the public, some $6 billion was reportedly “smuggled” out of the country by the well-connected elite. When the public could have access again, a limit was set on what ordinary depositors could withdraw from their own accounts — as little as $200 every two weeks.In October 2019 a scheme to keep the Lebanese pound pegged to the dollar collapsed. The country’s commercial banks had been offering customers exceptionally high interest rates on their savings accounts, which financed loans to the central bank. But by the late 2010s the only way the central bank could repay those loans plus interest was by borrowing more. A government-sanctioned Ponzi scheme, in effect. When it fell apart, the value of the pound crashed and the banks — citing anti-government protests — closed their doors. While banks were closed to the public, some $6 billion was reportedly “smuggled” out of the country by the well-connected elite. When the public could have access again, a limit was set on what ordinary depositors could withdraw from their own accounts — as little as $200 every two weeks.
Of course, the large creditors who could better afford to shoulder losses should have done so, and ‌the World Bank concluded as much in a report this summer. But ordinary people were made to bear the consequences instead — just as they were one year later, when nobody was held responsible for an explosion in the Port of Beirut that left more than 200 dead and entire neighborhoods flattened. Evading accountability is one of the few things our notoriously corrupt elite excels at.Of course, the large creditors who could better afford to shoulder losses should have done so, and ‌the World Bank concluded as much in a report this summer. But ordinary people were made to bear the consequences instead — just as they were one year later, when nobody was held responsible for an explosion in the Port of Beirut that left more than 200 dead and entire neighborhoods flattened. Evading accountability is one of the few things our notoriously corrupt elite excels at.
Now, to live here is to relearn every day how to do more with less. The state-provided electricity turns the lights on only occasionally, if at all. Medical care is unaffordable. And civil servants, including many judges, have been on open-ended strikes, causing delays in everything from the filing of domestic protection orders to prison releases.Now, to live here is to relearn every day how to do more with less. The state-provided electricity turns the lights on only occasionally, if at all. Medical care is unaffordable. And civil servants, including many judges, have been on open-ended strikes, causing delays in everything from the filing of domestic protection orders to prison releases.
So we try to adapt, because we have no other choice. We run generators and install solar panels. We stand in lines for bread and fuel. We take our children out of school and forgo seeing the doctor or dentist. And now, we rob our banks.So we try to adapt, because we have no other choice. We run generators and install solar panels. We stand in lines for bread and fuel. We take our children out of school and forgo seeing the doctor or dentist. And now, we rob our banks.
In an interview with the Arabic-language news channel Al-Jadeed, Ms. Hafiz said that she held up her bank because her sister is dying of cancer and she needs money for the treatment. She said she’d tried everything before she resorted to this last, desperate measure. She’d appealed to the manager of her bank numerous times, to the Ministry of Health; she’d explained to everyone how dire her sister’s situation had become. She’d even considered selling one of her own kidneys, she said.In an interview with the Arabic-language news channel Al-Jadeed, Ms. Hafiz said that she held up her bank because her sister is dying of cancer and she needs money for the treatment. She said she’d tried everything before she resorted to this last, desperate measure. She’d appealed to the manager of her bank numerous times, to the Ministry of Health; she’d explained to everyone how dire her sister’s situation had become. She’d even considered selling one of her own kidneys, she said.
Ms. Hafiz left with $13,000 of the $20,000 she says she had in her account. After spending several weeks on the run, she turned herself in and was released on bail.Ms. Hafiz left with $13,000 of the $20,000 she says she had in her account. After spending several weeks on the run, she turned herself in and was released on bail.
So far, none of the so-called bank robbers have been prosecuted, but after more holdups this month, another “indefinite closure” of the banks started, leaving only A.T.M.s open and further restricting everyone’s access to cash. The banks, once again, have imposed their own punishment on their customers.So far, none of the so-called bank robbers have been prosecuted, but after more holdups this month, another “indefinite closure” of the banks started, leaving only A.T.M.s open and further restricting everyone’s access to cash. The banks, once again, have imposed their own punishment on their customers.
The mass theft of depositors’ money — like the port explosion in Beirut — are serious crimes perpetrated against the Lebanese people for which nobody has been held accountable. In these circumstances it’s difficult to condemn people who take matters into their own hands. When people have no recourse to the law, when the lawmakers themselves flout it, what choices are left? In Lebanon, we are finding out.The mass theft of depositors’ money — like the port explosion in Beirut — are serious crimes perpetrated against the Lebanese people for which nobody has been held accountable. In these circumstances it’s difficult to condemn people who take matters into their own hands. When people have no recourse to the law, when the lawmakers themselves flout it, what choices are left? In Lebanon, we are finding out.
Lina Mounzer is a Lebanese writer and translator.Lina Mounzer is a Lebanese writer and translator.
The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.
Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram.