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The port Lebanon left behind

The port Lebanon left behind

Once a regional gateway, Tripoli’s harbour now symbolizes marginalization but remains vital for future reconstruction.

By Katharine Sorensen | November 18, 2025
Reading time: 4 min
The port Lebanon left behind

Ports are rarely just ports in Lebanon. They are extensions of power, indicators of political priorities, and material reminders of where and to whom the state directs its attention. Nowhere is this more visible than in Tripoli: a harbour with deep historical roots that has repeatedly been overshadowed by the capital and left to function on the margins.

This imbalance becomes clearer when placed in the broader maritime history of Lebanon. From the Phoenician harbors of Tyre and Saida to the modern wharves of Beirut and Tripoli, the coastline has long anchored Lebanon to global trade and cultural exchange. Yet by 2025, Beirut’s port reigns almost exclusively serving as the country’s primary gate to commerce, revenue, and international movement.

Tripoli’s port, Lebanon’s second largest, stands instead as a symbol of regional neglect and as a case study of what that neglect reveals about the Lebanese state.

 

A northern port ignored

The history of Tripoli’s port is tied to the broader economic marginalization of northern Lebanon. Over the past two centuries, Beirut received the lion’s share of investment, leaving Tripoli comparatively stagnant.

The roots go back to the late nineteenth century, when Beirut became the focal point of the Ottoman Empire’s Tanzimat modernization reforms and later a magnet for French and European commercial interest. The completion of the road linking Beirut to Damascus in 1863 accelerated its rise, turning the city into a cosmopolitan hub capable of attracting global capital.

Tripoli, lacking similar investment, stalled. The divergence is reflected in maritime activity records. Data from French Consul Henri Guys’ 1862 Esquisse de l’état politique et commercial de la Syrie demonstrate the disparity in goods exported from both ports to Marseille between 1852 and 1854.

 

From Tripoli      from Beirut
Ships (1852)1                12
Tonnage (1852)99 1678
Ships (1854)-               9
Tonnage (1854)-1620
Total Ships121
Total Tons993298

Commodity comparisons mirrored these gaps:

 

Beirut exported alizarin dyes, silk, wool, sesame, and silver currency in significant quantities.

Tripoli exported the same categories in minimal or inconsistent volumes, reflecting limited scale.

By the twentieth century, Beirut had become Lebanon’s uncontested economic and political center. By 1970, the capital held 70% of industrial establishments and 90% of banks.

Post-war reconstruction reinforced this centralization, with an estimated 80% of funding directed to Beirut and Mount Lebanon leaving Tripoli’s port outdated and underutilized.

 

A short-lived turning point

Two recent events shifted attention back to Tripoli.

The first was the Beirut Port explosion on August 4, 2020, after which Tripoli temporarily assumed Beirut’s maritime operations. Ships redirected north made Tripoli Lebanon’s main port for eight days. Despite previously operating at only 40% capacity, Tripoli handled the influx effectively yet once Beirut recovered partial capacity, national shipping routes reverted almost immediately.

The second shift emerged after the fall of the Assad regime in December 2024. Tripoli, just 30 km from Syria, became key for humanitarian and commercial access as sanctions lifted and reconstruction discussions intensified.

 

New leadership, renewed ambition

Tripoli’s leadership sees this moment as an opening. Mayor Abdelhamid Karimeh elected in May 2026 noted that the new government showed unprecedented interest in developing northern Lebanon, including both the port and the nearby Qlayaat airport. Karimeh highlighted three tenders issued in August and September 2025 for port development and expressed confidence that Tripoli’s port would serve a central role in Syria’s restoration and as a cornerstone of northern Lebanon’s economic future.

 

Inside the maritime industry

To assess how recent developments affect the maritime sector, an interview was conducted with Walid Al Badaoui, head of The Lebanese Company for Dry Dock and Construction Vessel (LCDC).

Educated in marine and mechanical engineering in the United States, Al Badaoui returned to Lebanon in 1989 to join the business his grandfather established in 1958. Today, LCDC services clients from Greece, Turkey, Cyprus, Lebanon, and beyond its vessels sailing as far as Africa and Brazil.

Yet Tripoli’s port remains highly sensitive to geopolitical volatility. “Once there is war in Lebanon, no vessels look to enter,” he explained. The latest conflict with Israel led to the cancellation of two major vessel construction projects for a Cypriot firm. Companies increasingly prefer sending contracts to Alexandria (Egypt) or Tuzla (Turkey).

Lebanon’s continuing brain drain intensifies the challenge. Skilled engineers and technicians leave as instability deepens. Al Badaoui, however, hires exclusively Lebanese, hoping to preserve national expertise.

Still, signs of recovery emerged. LCDC recently launched the OUS Brave, a Syrian cargo ship repaired in Tripoli. With Syria’s Tartus and Latakia ports still lacking modern infrastructure and Tartus transitioning following the termination of its agreement with Russian company Stroytransgaz Tripoli remains positioned to fill a regional commercial gap.

 

Corruption and political interference

Optimism coexists with entrenched governance issues.

In October, allegations circulated online claiming Finance Minister Yassine Jaber blocked container entry to Tripoli’s port, imposing what some labeled a “naval blockade.” The ministry rejected the accusations, arguing the decision reflected increased customs control after cocaine and smuggled pharmaceuticals were seized at the port in early September.

Critics countered that stricter oversight could have been applied equitably across Lebanese ports especially as 6.5 million captagon pills and 700 kg of hashish intercepted in Zahle that same month were reportedly destined for export via Beirut, not Tripoli.

The episode underscored how political hierarchies continue to suppress Tripoli’s full potential.

 

On the ground: The human cost

The consequences of neglect are visible in the lives surrounding the port.

In El Mina, a fisherman named Mohammed Akari approached, explaining he had worked out of Tripoli’s port for forty years. He described his situation as “very poor.” He now lives with his wife Hiba and their two-year-old twins, Dounia and Souad, inside an abandoned boat. The stroller beside the hull belonged to Dounia. Their living space consisted of a mattress, sofa cushion, pillows, and a towel. A fifteen-year-old named Mohammed confirmed the details.

In that moment, the port was not a geopolitical asset or a logistics project it was a mirror of a city left behind.

 

The question ahead

Tripoli does not lack capacity, geography, infrastructure, or historical legitimacy. What it lacks is consistent political will and a state willing to decentralize economic authority.

If properly managed, the Port of Tripoli could generate significant revenue, employment, and regional integration. Tripoli is not a burden. It is an asset. Whether Lebanon chooses to develop it will determine not only Tripoli’s fate but the country’s capacity for reconstruction and renewal.

    • Katharine Sorensen