Since 2020, crises have accumulated at an accelerated pace: school closures during the Corona pandemic and periods of distance learning, frequent strikes in the formal sector, and then the recent Israeli aggression that led to the displacement of tens of thousands, the disruption of hundreds of schools and the conversion of many of them into shelters. These developments did not come as separate stations, but overlapped to produce cumulative educational losses and widening gaps, which affected the quality and continuity of learning, and the ability of families, teachers, and students to survive in an environment where stability is declining and institutional support.

In contrast, educational policies during these years have been characterized by an intermittent and incomplete remedial nature, more of a temporary reaction than a vision of reform that restructures the sector. This approach has touched on key issues, from refugee education and teachers’ salaries to programs to compensate for learning losses, especially in public schools, whose interventions have remained hostage to immediate external funding rather than planned and ongoing state policies. This year’s decision by the Ministry of Education reflects the reduction of teaching days in public schools to four While it eases the financial burden in the short term, it threatens to widen learning gaps at a time when the system needs more educational time to offset losses, not reduce it.

Thus, as 2026 begins, the education crisis does not appear to be an emergency event, but rather an ongoing structural trajectory that is reshaping education in Lebanon, and raising urgent questions about the future of educational justice and equal opportunities between students and sectors.

As part of this long journey, the Centre for Lebanese Studies has carried out a series of online surveys since 2021, involving parents, students, and teachers in various Lebanese governorates. In 2025, three surveys were conducted, the first of which targeted 511 twelfth-grade students with the aim of assessing their readiness for the official exams of 2024-2025 after years of interruption and lack of educational stability. The second survey included 1,089 parents to measure the financial pressures facing families, the level of income and their ability to cover the increasing fees in private schools, in addition to tracking the educational outcomes of their children and monitoring the cases of transfers between the public and private sectors and their causes. The third survey targeted 828 teachers in public and private schools to assess working conditions, particularly salaries and the gap between them and the cost of living, as well as the professional and psychological pressures that accompany them.

The questions in these surveys were asked in a way that allows comparison across years to monitor sequential changes, providing a basic basis for understanding how the crises accumulated since 2020 are  reshaping Lebanon’s educational structure.

Learning Loss and Dropout from Education

The successive crises since 2020 have marked a  severe turning point in the course of education in Lebanon, as they have led to widespread interruptions in face-to-face education, the most prominent of which was the closures of the Corona pandemic, protracted strikes in the official sector, and then the disruption of schools due to the Israeli aggression and the subsequent waves of widespread displacement. In this context, our estimates show  that between the academic years 2019 to 2020 and 2024 to 2025, public school students lost  a total 445 days of regular face-to-face instruction, which is approximately half of the educational time assumed by  the 1997 curriculum.

The severity of the situation is most pronounced in the southern border villages, where  the  interruption period for face-to-face education has increased to around 630 days, after a large number of students have been unable to attend their schools since October 2023 due to displacement and destruction of infrastructure. This long and frequent interruption has contributed to widening educational gaps, particularly among the most vulnerable groups such as refugees and students in areas directly affected by the aggression.

According to our estimates based on a simulation conducted by the World Bank, the rate of educational poverty  among public school students increased by about 30 percentage points during these years. Educational poverty is defined as the percentage of children as young as 10 who are out of school or unable to read and understand simple text. In border areas that have experienced longer periods of interruption, the rise is likely to have  reached 40 Percentage points, deepening educational disparities between regions and increasing the vulnerability of the most affected groups.

It is worth noting that learning loss was evident even before the aggression, as the results  of a study we conducted before the escalation of the aggression on a sample of 272 tenth-grade students in five Lebanese governorates show that there are deep gaps in basic competencies, as the success rates did not exceed 3% in mathematics, 8% in Arabic, and 13% in English. These results show the extent of the educational losses that have accumulated in recent years, and the consequent serious decline in students’ readiness To continue their learning and the proper transition between educational stages.

The results of these studies are also reflected in the results of our recent survey, where  the  2025 online survey of 12th grade students shows a sharp decline in the levels of readiness for official exams.  Only 10% of private school students and 6% of public school students reported that they  were ready to take the official exams, a clear decrease compared to previous years’ percentages.

When examining the factors behind  this decline, it is clear that psychological status plays a major role, with 76% of students citing psychological stress as the most prominent reason for their poor readiness. This is followed by the effects of aggression at 45%, non-completion of the curriculum at 41%, and the accumulation of educational losses over the past years by 40%.

Economic Burdens and Challenges of Families

In addition to educational losses and frequent interruptions from education, Lebanese families have faced significant financial pressures in recent years that have made the cost of education a burden beyond their means. The 2025 Parents‘  Survey showed  that the average annual income of families reached about $12,216,  while the annual cost of educating one child in private schools, and transportation costs, together was recorded at about $4,417, equivalent to more than a third of the family’s income, in light of the continued rise of this cost amid the absence of supervision. Despite the relative improvement in household income compared to 2023 In 2024, the annual premium for one child’s education in private schools is still a high percentage of a family’s annual income, and a large proportion of households (about two-thirds) still struggle to pay basic household bills.

The effects of this financial pressure are clearly evident in the patterns of displacement between educational sectors. The results of our recent survey showed  that the transition from public schools to private schools was very limited, with  only 3% of  parents with children in private schools reporting  that they transferred their children to a private school in the 2025-2026 school yearThe main reason was the decline in the quality of education in public schools. In contrast, the survey revealed that nearly half of the sample of parents with children in public schools (46%) reported that they transferred their children from private to public schools during the same year, and the main motivation behind this transition was the inability to pay private school fees, according to 90% of them. These patterns clearly indicate that the transfer of students between educational sectors is primarily governed by affordability, not the quality of education, and that the concerns associated with the decline in the quality of education Formal education was not enough to stem the wave of forced transition from private to formal.

The recent Israeli aggression has also directly impacted families’ ability to provide education for their children, with  86% of parents in areas directly affected by the aggression reporting that they have been forced to flee their homes. Although 83% of them later returned, the effects of displacement were clearly reflected on the educational trajectory among children who remain displaced:  only 25% of displaced children returned to their original schools, while 9% did not attend school this year. 16% moved to other schools. Three-quarters of parents cited high fees or economic pressures as the main motivation for changing schools, while 21% linked the move to the destruction of their homes, and 16% to security concerns.

The results also showed  that 27% of pupils in areas affected by the aggression had experienced school interruptions within the past two years, often for periods ranging from one to three months (65%), and in fewer cases the interruptions extended to an entire semester (4%) or two consecutive years (1%). During these periods,  only 18% of parents reported that their children received regular distance education, while 41% received41% did not receive any kind of educational support. The effects of these interruptions were not limited to logistical aspects, but also included clear psychological and social dimensions, with parents in the sample reporting that the aggression had a significant psychological impact on their children. 48% of them observed an increase in feelings of fear or anxiety in their children, 32% reported difficulty concentrating, and 16% reported sleep problems.

Against these challenges, only 25% of parents expressed confidence in their children’s ability to continue their education, while the majority (75%) remained unsure about their children’s future in school.  9% of parents surveyed reported that they had at least one child under the age of 18 who had dropped out of school this year.  In previous waves, it appears that most of the children who dropped out are males, as parents indicated that about two-thirds of the dropouts are males.

Teachers’ Conditions and Deteriorating Work Environment

Understanding the trajectory of the educational crisis is not complete without analyzing the situation of teachers, who are the cornerstone of the educational process.  The 2025 Teachers’ Survey showed  that the average monthly income of a teacher in 2025 was  about $700, a relative improvement compared  to what was recorded in 2023 (about $159), but it remains well below the levels Before the financial crash, the average wage was about $1,300. 

This financial reality is more evident when compared to the cost of living.  The average basic household expenditure is about $1,174 per month, which includes the costs of food, transportation, electricity, the internet, and medical supplies. Thus, basic expenses alone account for about 167% of the average monthly income of a teacher, reflecting the imbalance between wages and the cost of living, and showing that current income does not cover the minimum basic needs, not counting the cost of housing, education, or heating. 

Aside from the financial aspect, the survey results reveal  that the pressures facing teachers go beyond the burden of living to affect the psychological state and professional motivation. For example, 78% of professors reported that their motivation to work has been negatively impacted by the accumulated crises. Similarly, 72% of professors described the impact of crises on their mental health as negative, a direct reflection of the protracted economic and social burdens and the state of occupational instability. In terms of professional performance, 20 reported% of professors that their performance was negatively affected. In terms of the quality of education, teachers indicated that public schools were the most affected by the crises, with 40% reporting that the impact was negative compared to only 25% in private schools.

Only one in three teachers expressed a desire to continue working in the education sector, while 12% said they did not want to stay in the education sector, and 56% stated that they continue to work in the sector due to the lack of other job alternatives. These findings reflect a serious threat to the sustainability of Lebanon’s education sector and to the ability of the education system to retain its teaching staff in light of this deteriorating reality. 

Structural and Institutional Reasons

This approach based on crisis management rather than preventing or preparing for it has led to a widening gap between private and public education, as public schools have not been able to build an educational environment capable of maintaining the stability of the teaching staff, completing the curriculum, or making up for the real loss of education, which has made the quality elements of private education gradually excel and exceed the formal by degrees. By 2025, private education, which is expensive, is no longer an option available only to financially capable families, which has brought it closer to a social screening mechanism that restricts the quality of education to the economic ability and the affluent class, while the crisis in public schools has turned into a chronic structural weakness that accumulates year after year as a result of the continuation and absence of legislation that guarantees the rights of teachers and sets standards for quality and institutional evaluation. 

In conclusion, in light of the results of our studies over the past six years, it is imperative that education policymakers in Lebanon make decisive decisions. Regulating private school fees in line with family income, and maintaining free and quality formal education are priorities that cannot be postponed, and improving teachers’ salaries in order to rebalance wages and the demands of life remains a prerequisite for safeguarding the continuity of education. Equally important is the adoption of policies to compensate for educational losses through plans An educational recovery based on diagnosing gaps according to normative and qualitative assessments, and providing programmes to compensate for educational losses for the most marginalized. Support must also be provided to families affected by aggression to ensure that their children continue to be educated. In the absence of these measures, financial, social and psychological pressures will continue to undermine children’s right to a stable and equitable education.

References

Chahine, N., Hammoud, M., & Shuayb, M. (2024). The Impact of the Multiple Crises on Learning Loss

Among Tenth-Grade Students in Lebanese Public Schools. Centre for Lebanese Studies. https://lebanesestudies.com/publications/the-impact-of-the-multiple-crises-on-learning-loss-among-tenth-grade-students-in-lebanese-public-schools/

Common Ground Fund. (2023). Lebanon’s education crisis: A call for action. CG Fund. https://cg-fund.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/CGFL_Lebanons-Education-Crisis-1.pdf%0D

Hammoud, M. and Brun, C. (2025). Education and crises: The cost of delayed recovery in Lebanon. ERICC Working Paper. https://doi.org/10.6084/m9.figshare.29438447

Hammoud, M. (2025a). Educational disruption and exam preparedness: The state of Lebanon’s Grade 12 students in 2025. Centre for Lebanese Studies. https://lebanesestudies.com/publications/educational-disruption-and-exam-preparedness-the-state-of-lebanons-grade-12-students-in-2025/

Hammoud, M. (2025b). Families on Edge: The Struggle to Keep Children in School in Lebanon. Centre for Lebanese Studies. https://lebanesestudies.com/publications/families-on-edge-the-struggle-to-keep-children-in-school-in-lebanon/

Hammoud, M. (2025c). Teaching Through Crisis: How Lebanon’s Compounding Crises Are Reshaping the Teaching Profession. Centre for Lebanese Studies. https://lebanesestudies.com/publications/teaching-through-crisis-how-lebanons-compounding-crises-are-reshaping-the-teaching-profession/

Double the price of education

This picture is no exception. It sums up the reality of what happened in the frontline areas during two and a half years of continuous war: an absent or lagging state, and communities saving their children’s education with their own hands.

Students in the areas affected by the Israeli war on Lebanon paid a heavy price, particularly in the South and Nabatieh governorates. However, the damage inflicted on students in the frontline villages was compounded, as in-person education in their schools was almost entirely disrupted with the start of the offensive on October 8, 2023. They were forced to attend alternative schools after the vast majority of them were compelled to flee their villages in repeated displacements and brutal attempts at uprooting through the destruction of homes, schools, and sometimes entire villages. Yet, the will and remarkable determination of the people of the South, and their ability to withstand repeated wars and attacks for over 75 years, continue to drive them to return time and again to their lands and rebuild their lives, especially access to education, despite the neglect and marginalization on one hand, and the brutality on the other.

This article examines the state of public schools and the distribution of students in war-affected areas, with a particular focus on schools located on what has become known as the “front line.” The analysis covers three distinct time periods:

• After the ceasefire on November 27, 2024, during a year and a half of continuous attacks.

• During the expanded war in 2026, which lasted 44 days from March 2 to approximately April 14, 2026.

• After April 14, 2026, when the attacks were concentrated specifically in the south, and up to the present day.

Phase One: Return to Rubble (November 2024 – March 2026)

This is the stage in which the ceasefire provided an opportunity to resume education in areas whose wounds have not yet healed.

The number of students in schools closed for security reasons, all located in the Nabatieh Governorate, reached 5,209. The majority of these students did not return to their villages but settled in Nabatieh, Tyre, and the surrounding areas. Many of their school buildings were completely or partially destroyed, and no reconstruction funds were available. Minister of Education Dr. Rima Karami, through one of her advisors, responded with unusual candor: “There is nothing specific allocated for the South at the moment in this regard.” In this vacuum, the local community attempted to find some solutions. According to the Ministry of Education, the damaged schools were distributed across three tracks.

The schools whose buildings were completely or partially damaged, totaling 20 official primary and secondary schools in the frontline villages, were distributed into 3 categories one year after the ceasefire, according to private information we obtained from the Ministry of Education: schools that did not open their doors, schools that opened in an alternative building inside the town, and schools that opened in an alternative building outside the town.

Schools where it was not possible to start teaching

Education in these schools, both in person and remotely, came to a complete halt. Since the beginning of the war, the principals have demanded what they called “preserving the schools’ integrity.” The Ministry of Education granted their request, allowing the principal, the headmaster, and the computer technician to remain administratively attached to the school but to work at schools near their current residences. These individuals are responsible for preparing schedules detailing the distribution of students and teachers and compiling the necessary data about the school building in preparation for the resumption of classes when conditions permit. Students also attend schools near their homes. This situation applies to the schools in the villages of Al-Adisa. Kfarkela and Markaba (Marjeyoun District), and the Hosh El Sayed Ali School (Hermel District), i.e., only 4 schools and high schools.

Schools that offer in-person education in an alternative building within the same town

In some towns, primary and secondary schools adopted prefabricated rooms, as in the case of Mays al-Jabal, or buildings belonging to other institutions, such as the social welfare center in Houla, an unused building belonging to a private school in Khiam and Aitaroun, and an alternative building in the town of Qanafiz (Hermel district), which was damaged during clashes with armed groups on the border with Syria. These primary and secondary schools were distributed as follows: 6 in the Marjeyoun district, 1 in Hermel, for a total of 7 primary and secondary schools.

Schools that offer in-person education in an alternative building outside the town

Students from Aita al-Shaab, Ramia, and Yaroun in the Bint Jbeil district have returned to their original schools, which have begun classes in alternative buildings, mostly in the city of Tyre, with only one located in the town of Al-Tayri within the same district, where most of the families unable to return are concentrated. A decision was also issued to include students from the Marwahin and Al-Dhahira schools. Yaroun and Al-Bustan, both from the Tyre district, were located in the Lebanese-German University building in the same district. However, the forcibly displaced people who were occupying the university building refused to leave. The municipalities tried to find suitable solutions for them, and one of the displaced women said that some municipalities offered them money to find alternative housing and vacate the university building, but they refused, fearing that their displacement would be prolonged and the offered amounts would not be enough to cover their rent. The number of these secondary schools reached 4 in the Bint Jbeil district, 4 in the Tyre district, and 1 in Hermel, totaling 9 public schools and secondary schools.

Schools that opened their doors in the villages of the front line

While private and public schools in several towns in the Bint Jbeil district that did not suffer extensive damage, such as those in Bint Jbeil, Shaqra, Tibnin, Beit Leef, and some Christian towns like Rmeish and Ain Ebel, are operating normally. In the Hasbaya district, schools in Kfarshouba, Ibl al-Saqi, and Habbarieh are open, as are secondary schools in Marjeyoun, Majdal Selm, and Taybeh, and one school in Khiam and Qlaiaa in the Marjeyoun district. Schools in Alma al-Shaab and Naqoura are also open in the Tyre district. The distribution is as follows: 6 in the Marjeyoun district, 16 in the Bint Jbeil district, 6 in the Hasbaya district, and 2 in the Tyre district, totaling 30 schools and secondary schools.

Naqoura: When willpower is the only resource

One of the strongest things documented in this study is the experience of the Naqoura Public School, which worked to launch in-person education in the frontline villages located directly on the border and which experienced widespread destruction. Restoration of the Naqoura Public School, says Layal Youssef, the school’s director:

“After the ceasefire on November 27, approximately 60 families returned to the town of Naqoura and began repairing their homes. We opened because repairing our school was not very expensive. The remaining schools in the town and surrounding towns have not yet found alternative buildings to move to… I started registering for the academic year (2025/2026) during September 2025.

Part of the school is destroyed, but not the whole thing. The Southern Council renovated it and equipped it with a solar power system. However, the council set a date to begin the renovations and then backed down. They told me, “We were stopped by the authorities.” But the principal persisted and kept in touch, and they informed her that the renovation decision had been issued. The renovations were completed in a month and a half. Some details are still not finished, especially the water shortage. The school relies on water tankers provided by the municipality and the Civil Defense.

The rubble was cleared from the playground by volunteers. UNIFIL then completed the clearing. The school is still open on the road because of the collapsed wall, but we are in an inner neighborhood of the town, so this is not a problem.

The Ministry of Education provided some books. There is a shortage of equipment. Today, UNICEF provided a number of laptops.

The 60 families who returned to the town, the poorest and most vulnerable, some simply renovated a room and moved in. These children have the right to an education, so we worked to open the school.

When we returned, the blackboards in the classrooms were full of bullets, the photocopier had bullets in it, the interactive whiteboard too.

The number of students in the school before the war was 200 pupils, and today it is 56 pupils.

A number of the school’s students come from the surrounding villages, because they have not returned to their towns. There is a bus that transports them from Abbasiya, Mansouri, and Ma’raka…

Today we are having problems securing electricity due to the weather starting to change.”

Phase Two: The Large-Scale War (March-April 2026)

When war broke out again on March 2, 2026, the Ministry of Education declared its commitment to “maintaining the continuity of learning for all students.” However, faced with the pressure of forced displacement, it was unable to uphold this commitment. It organized the resumption of in-person and remote learning immediately after the second week of the war. However, it did not issue any binding decrees obligating public schools in war zones to return to in-person learning on specific, binding dates. Instead, it began collecting data on the locations of students and teachers, and then urged administrators to begin remote learning wherever possible.

By March 28, the distribution of school students was as follows:

Distribution of students in public and private schools according to type of education after the resumption of war on March 2, 2026

The terms “in-person” and “hybrid” refer to the school’s hybrid model, which involves both in-person and online learning. The parents and students we interviewed agreed that hybrid learning is the weakest form of education because it requires teachers to juggle both methods simultaneously. Instead of using a digital resource for all students, for example, they must present a written lesson on the board for those physically present and deliver it via interactive whiteboards or live video feeds for students learning remotely.

The table reveals the gap between the public and private sectors, as the latter were able to Private schools in war zones maintained continuity of education for all their students, while 17% of public school students remained without any education for a relatively long period (until March 28, and sometimes even longer). The study also revealed a 24% difference in in-person attendance between public and private schools, favoring the private sector. This does not justify the claim that private schools are pressuring for the resumption of classes to collect tuition fees. Nor is it that distance learning is ineffective. Even if that were true, the material outcome for the students would be the same: private school students returned to education despite the war, while public school students in war zones, who are the poorest and most vulnerable, did not return to education, or were very late in returning.

According to figures from the Ministry of Education, there were 19,666 students in displacement centers, representing 2% of all students in Lebanon, but 4.9% of public school students and 22% of students from war zones. In contrast, the number of private school students in displacement centers reached only 5,518, equivalent to 0.7% of the total private sector student population. These figures clearly reveal that the war did not affect all students equally, but rather reproduced and deepened existing inequalities. Students in the formal education system and the most vulnerable groups bore the brunt of displacement and disruption to their education, while the education system itself reflected this inequality with painful accuracy.

Phase Three: After the so-called partial ceasefire (May 10-6-2026 – today)

After May 2026, attacks became concentrated specifically in the south. Ministry of Education data shows that 60% of students in Lebanon attend in-person classes nationwide, while this figure reached 79% in private schools. This means that the difference between public and private schools in terms of in-person learning nationwide is 19%, in favor of private schools.

But this average masks a harsher reality: 95% of students in Nabatieh Governorate, in both public and private schools, are learning remotely; 64% of students in South Governorate, in both public and private schools, are learning remotely; and 93% of students in Beirut are learning remotely because their schools are still hosting internally displaced persons. This means that the percentage in the South remained close to the national average because Sidon and its surrounding areas did not suffer from the same level of aggression as the South. Meanwhile, only 5% of students in Nabatieh Governorate were learning in person. This is a shocking figure that reveals the depth of the educational gap in this region, especially after the renewed aggression in March 2016.

The 40% who are studying remotely are distributed as follows: 23% from war zones, and 17% from safe areas where their schools have been turned into displacement centers. All of these 40%, which is more than a third of the learners in Lebanon, will lose approximately a third of the school year, from March until its end.

These tables, prepared by the Ministry of Education, show that only 9 students from the Baalbek-Hermel Governorate are out of school after the ceasefire.

Psychosocial support: absent where it is most needed

Parents say their children have returned to normal life, but the psychological and social effects continue to manifest and impact their behavior and education. No support initiatives have yet been offered to them. The Ministry of Education promises “intensified guidance and counseling visits” to the schools they have enrolled in. However, the problem is that the number of counselors in the area is limited, many have been displaced, and no counselors from outside the area are coming due to security concerns. Furthermore, the counselors assigned to these tasks have not received any specialized training programs for these children.

In a study conducted by the Lebanese Center for Studies, 48% of parents expressed their children’s need for psychological support. The study states, “Psychological and emotional support for students, parents, and teachers who are experiencing trauma due to displacement and aggression is equally important. Teachers emphasized that psychological support programs should be led by qualified professionals to address children’s fears and emotional challenges.”

Cumulative educational loss since the outbreak of the economic crisis in October 2019 until today

In an interview, the Minister of Education stated that “every student in Lebanon suffers from a 40% learning loss,” but no study has been conducted to determine the extent of this loss in the governorates that suffered most from the Israeli war on Lebanon. Furthermore, no specific plans exist to address this learning loss in schools in the South, Nabatieh, or the border villages. The Ministry of Education maintains that the diagnostic assessment and support plan implemented for the basic education level already covers students in these two governorates, thus contributing to bridging the gap and addressing the learning loss.

The Minister of Education recently announced that a new diagnostic test will be conducted at the beginning of the next academic year 2026/2027 to assess the learning loss that may have resulted from the disruption of education in the 2026 war.

Summary

The data presented in this study, across its three phases, revealed one recurring truth: the border regions of the South and Nabatieh did not pay the price of war just once, but rather repeatedly, at every stage, during every interruption, and on every level. Students in the frontline villages experienced a near-total disruption of their education when the war began in October 2023, followed by forced displacement, a return to ruins, and then a renewed, expanded war. The resulting cumulative losses have yet to be measured by any study specifically focused on these two governorates. .

This reality presents a clear priority: it is not enough for the assessment and support plan to be national and unified. What the South and Nabatieh need is an exceptional policy that stems from the specific extent of what their students have lost, a thorough study of the cumulative learning loss, field-based psychological support programs led by specialists, and phased compensation plans that do not wait for the start of the next academic year.

The most practical and effective approach is what these communities have proven for themselves: when basic resources like a building to be renovated, a chair to be provided, and a table to be opened, schools reopened and students returned. What is required of the state is not miracles, but rather that resources arrive in a timely manner, and that it not merely celebrate community resilience. And to build upon it instead of merely praising it.

Because Lebanon, which lies on a fault line of recurring crises in the foreseeable future, has no choice but to cling to saving what can be saved, on every level, and clinging to providing and continuing education is one of the most important things that every society should think about, under all circumstances.

*The views expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect the views of the journal or the Lebanese Studies Center, but represent only the opinion of its author.

This question arises strongly when looking at the experience of the current Minister of Education, Dr. Rima Karami, an academic who came to the ministry from an educational and research background at the American University. In terms of academic track, her biography seems to be linked to research on issues of education and educational justice. However, as far as we know, there has been no mention of confrontational attitudes either through word or practice.

The ministry’s practical experience raises a different problem: Is the academic background sufficient to bring about real reform in an education system in crisis? Or does reform need to go beyond theoretical knowledge? From this perspective, is it enough for the minister to be affiliated with President Nawaf Salam’s team to assume that she will work within the reform line?

To understand this problem, we can go back to the thought of the Brazilian educator Paulo Freire, author of the book Education of the Oppressed, who put forward a radical vision of the role of education in society. For Freire, education cannot be neutral; it is either a tool to free people from relationships of control, or a means of reproducing them. Therefore, a true educator is not just a technical expert in education, but a social actor who has the ability to confront structures that produce injustice and marginalization.

Based on this idea, educational reform becomes as much a political, social, and developmental project as it is an educational project. In other words, reform does not happen only through technical plans or policies, but through a clear will to confront authoritarianism and utilitarianism that reproduces the crisis.

From Discourse to Practice

Looking at the current experience in the Ministry of Education, it seems that the gap between reformist discourse and actual practice is still large. Since the minister took office, there has been no clear path to confront the deep structures of the crisis within the ministry. The accumulated corruption files in the sector have not been opened, and decisive steps have not been taken towards holding accountable employees surrounded by suspicions, and there has been no reform in the decision-making structure within the ministry     

On the contrary, it seems that part of the ministry’s actual management still relies on networks and advisers who have been associated with former ministers or influential political forces. This reflects the continuity of the traditional mechanisms of work rather than breaking them. This is precisely where the paradox between the reformist discourse and the administrative reality appears.

This paradox is also evident in the relationship with teachers, especially contracted teachers in formal education, where they make  up 80 percent of formal basic education. Instead of turning the ministry into a space for real dialogue with teachers as partners in the educational process, policies that are closer to exclusion and marginalization have emerged. Teachers have not been granted basic rights, even in matters of compensation or regular payment. The association that represents them has sometimes been excluded from discussions directly related to their professional destiny.

This style of management is at odds with Freire’s vision of education. Education, in its philosophy, is based on dialogue and participation, and on acknowledging the actors within the educational process rather than treating them as passive recipients of decisions. When educational administration becomes a top-notch process, the educational system becomes closer to what Freire called “banking education,” where decisions are made from above and only others are asked to implement them.

The problem here is not necessarily the intentions, but the nature of the approach. Technical reform alone is not enough to transform an education system linked to a crisis political and economic structure. Real reform requires the ability to confront centers of influence, open corruption files, and build a new relationship with teachers as part of the reform project.

The relationship between teachers and the minister, as well as the relationship between teachers and pupils, can be approached from the perspective of power relations in the educational process. It should be an interactive relationship based on dialogue and engagement. The model provided by the administrator or teacher is directly reflected in the educational practice, because behavior in education is often acquired through simulation. Therefore, if the relationship at the top of the educational pyramid is based on imposition and exclusion, it is difficult for it to turn into a dialogical peer relationship within the classroom.

In this context, Freire explains the concept of indoctrination, which he calls banking, where the teacher treats knowledge as a private property that he deposits in the learner’s mind, without opening the door for dialogue or the development of a critical sense. On the other hand, Freire advocates for a dialogue education in which learners, based on their lived problems, participate in understanding and analyzing topics, enabling them to think critically together and contribute to problem solving.

If we look closely at the relationship between the Minister of Education and contracted teachers, for example, we see practices that are very similar to the application of the logic of banking education. When the correction of the salaries of principals was considered a priority at the expense of correcting the salaries of contracted professors, and when their elected legitimate association was absent from dialogue meetings with decision-makers – as happened, for example, in the meeting of the Minister of Education and the Authority’s ties with the Minister of Finance – it seemed as if trade union issues, wages and rights were a private matter of the ministry and had nothing to do with the professors concerned. Thus, there is no dialogue and active participation in addressing these issues, which are mainly the problems of professors, and they are replaced by a unilateral logic that imposes the decision from the top down.

From the Ministry to the Classroom

Here, a fundamental question arises: How can a teacher who finds himself in an inferior relationship with the educational authority and about his issues, in turn, impart a dialogue education to his students about their issues? And what self-strength does he need in order not to feel oppressed, as Freire calls him, and to become the occupier with the students, and to reproduce the same compulsive logic within the classroom?

The continuation of this cycle deprives education of its primary purpose: to be an experience for freedom, Freire says. Education in which the freedom of the teacher is restricted cannot produce a free-thinking learner, because the quality of education begins with the recognition of the freedom of the teacher and the learner to dialogue, participation and decision-making. Without this freedom, talk of educational reform or critical education is merely a slogan, while in reality it reproduces the same indoctrination inside and outside the school.

Hence, we wonder whether the problem lies in the person of the minister herself, or in the nature of the government in which she came. The government that was presented as a government of reform and rescue was not born out of a reformist social movement, but from the balances of the political system itself. Thus, the ceiling for reform may be limited from the outset. It was no coincidence that the minister was careful not to anger the associations of the authority in exchange for neglecting the demands of the independent association, which represents contracted professors, who are the most vulnerable group. In other words, it took into account the most influential groups and those associated with positions of power at the expense of the marginalized group who do not have a back. This means reproducing educational relations in a way that serves the relations of power. 

If the minister seeks to avoid a clash with the parties in power, this undermines the credibility of her role in a government presented as reformist, because reform presupposes confronting the political structures that dominate the ministry’s joints. However, what appears in practice goes beyond simply avoiding confrontation to keeping pace with these forces and adapting to their influence, which was reflected in the speech of receipt and handover, where the minister stressed that the work within the ministry will be based on transcending the past and party and political affiliations, and linking accountability to the quality of performance. 

However, practice later showed a tendency to take into account the existing political balances rather than challenge them, through repeated meetings with the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Nabih Berri, and with representatives of the parties under the title of consensus on educational files, which reflected a pattern based on political networking and tacit satisfaction from partisan forces as a result of the absence of public objection or criticism, which turned the management of educational affairs from a reformist discourse to political settlements managed by understandings rather than accountability or structural change. 

This was reflected in meeting the demands of some of the associations of the Authority and the principals at the expense of the professors, by approving a special increase for principals from the Council of Ministers, for the first time, which excluded teachers as owners and contractors, which strengthened the influence of the principals in influencing the attitudes of the professors, as most of them are linked to the associations of the Authority. This was also manifested in the overlook of the violation of decisions related to the number of teaching days and the duration of the educational class. 2025, however, the associations contradicted this and adopted 45 minutes, without any disciplinary action or official position from the minister, in light of a negligence and non-collision approach. 

In addition, the adoption of controversial educational policies has emerged, including the reconsideration of the 1997 curriculum plan, despite the criticism raised by educators in the past. This also included the decision to allow the contracting of security officers to teach in public high schools, in accordance with the decisions of the Cabinet meeting No. 28/2025 on 16/9/2025, which constituted an educational shock with the minister’s approval of the decision without mentioning any educational standards, which reinforced the predominance of political and clientelistic considerations over educational standards.

With regard to freedom of opinion and expression within the educational sector, the Minister of Education issued Circular No. 12/M/2025 dated 26/2/2025 , which prohibits employees from making any information or statements in the media or through means of communication related to educational and administrative work, limiting this to the Ministry and the directors. The Minister also issued Administrative Memorandum No. 27/M/2026 dated 15/4/2026 It called for an absolute refrain from publishing or circulating any content of a political nature, while obliging professors to delete previous content under penalty of sanctions.

This has raised legal and educational objections, confirming the contradiction between the concept of “absolute abstinence” and the freedom of expression guaranteed by the constitution (Article 13) and within the limits of the law according to the Personnel Law (Article 15). In this context, a decision was recently issued by the State Shura Council to suspend the implementation of the minister’s decision following a complaint filed by the author in partnership with lawyer Dr. Gad Tohme.

At the same time, support for it has declined among a number of partisan and independent MPs, and the circle of objection has widened within the educational body, including among independent teachers. The tension increased because the decision to hold the exams was made without consulting the representatives of the professors and the parents’ committees, who in turn opposed it, which put it in front of students, professors, parents, and a number of independent deputies, before it also lost the support of political forces with which it had sought an understanding.

Repair Ceiling 

However, the deeper problem relates to the nature of the relationship with these parties, which in practice have a broad grip on education in Lebanon. Each of them has its own networks of private schools, partisan and sectarian, which constitute an essential part of the educational scene, and in many areas it has succeeded in expanding its influence within the public schools themselves, to the extent that they have turned some of them into something like “educational federations” subject to local partisan authorities.

When the Ministry of Education chooses to keep pace with these forces rather than limit its influence, it is not content with adapting to this reality, but also enshrines it and grants it additional legitimacy within the educational system. The irony is that this reality may be more dangerous than the case of a party minister who has an explicit affiliation, because keeping up with the different poles of power gives them all more space to expand within education rather than limiting their influence.

In the light of Paulo Freire’s thought, education cannot be a space for emancipation if it remains subject to the power relations that produce it; education, he argues, either dismantles or reproduces relations of domination. When the Ministry of Education is managed within the balance of political forces that dominate schools and educational linkages, reform is governed by the ceiling of these balances, and education becomes a tool for reproducing power rather than a space for liberation from it.

An example of this is her first advisor for higher education affairs, Dr. Adnan Al-Amin, who previously wrote about his reform vision for the Ministry of Education, especially the Lebanese University, and in the book “Lebanese University Issues and Reform“, which he co-authored with other researchers and was published in 1999 by Dar Al-Nahar Publishing and the Lebanese Commission for Educational SciencesAl-Amin criticized clientelism and political interference in the administration of the Lebanese University, considering that it contributed to subjecting academic and administrative decisions to the balance of political forces more than they were subject to academic considerations, while after he reached a position in power as an advisor to the Minister of Education, the file of full-time in his administration was recently dealt with away from the standards he was demanding, so full-time employees were selected according to criteria that do not rise to any fair reform approach, the first of which is activating the role of the Lebanese University Council in the field of full-time decision.

In a reading of the full spectacle of the government’s policies, we note the absence of a socio-economic reform vision in the ministerial statement itself and a major confusion in the decisions at this level, the latest of which is the increase in the value of taxes on hydrocarbons, the increase in the value added tax and the subsequent increase.

The experience of the Ministry of Education may be a clear example of the difference between reformist discourse and traditional practice. In the light of Paulo Freire’s thought, the most important question becomes: can a libertarian education be built in a political system that still reproduces the same relations of control? Can a minister, regardless of her academic background, lead a real reform without the social support and social mobility that imposes this reform?

Perhaps the answer lies here: dialogue education is not only made in offices, but is born out of a living relationship between knowledge and reality, between thought and society, between the educator and the social struggle. Without this relationship, the best pedagogical ideas may remain just beautiful theories that don’t find their way into practice. This is in addition to the position of the person in charge: does he dare to confront even at the expense of his position, or does he prefer appeasement in order to preserve this position?

The Lebanese case, however, presents a different picture. The successive crises that have unfolded over the past years reveal a persistent pattern of financial and administrative inertia, with the state continuing to rely on virtually the same policies without any meaningful shift toward exceptional crisis management.

This shortcoming is particularly evident in the education sector. Successive Lebanese governments have treated education as a non-productive sector rather than as a strategic pillar of national development. As a result, long-term planning has been absent, as have emergency plans and exceptional funding mechanisms capable of protecting the official education system and ensuring the continuity of learning during times of crisis.

In this article, we seek to understand why no emergency budget has been allocated to education during crises and wars, and why a comprehensive vision for protecting education in such circumstances remains absent.

A Continuing Education Crisis

Since 2019, Lebanon has been grappling with a series of compounded crises that have profoundly affected the education sector. The financial collapse, followed by the repercussions of the COVID-19 pandemic, and later by wars and escalating security tensions, has exposed the fragility of the education system and its limited capacity to adapt. The quality of education has declined significantly as a result of repeated disruptions to schooling, inadequate funding, institutional collapse, declining enrolment, the accumulation of learning loss, and the continued loss of instructional days.

Despite the scale of the crisis, successive governments have failed to develop a comprehensive rescue plan for education. Instead, public spending has remained at its minimum levels, with an almost exclusive focus on covering operational costs, salaries, and social benefits. International standards, including UNESCO recommendations, call for allocating between 15% and 20% of government expenditure to education in developing countries. Yet Lebanon remained well below these benchmarks for many years, at around 6%, before the education share in the 2026 budget rose nominally to 12%, largely as a result of increased salaries and social benefits rather than any genuine increase in investment in the sector’s development.

The figures alone do not reflect any real improvement. The bulk of public spending is directed toward covering basic operational expenses rather than modernising schools, updating curricula, investing in educational technology, or strengthening institutional capacity. The distribution of allocations in the state budget also reveals the weakness of effective government investment across various sectors, including education.

Chronic Dependence on External Funding

For decades, major educational projects in Lebanon have relied heavily on external funding. Curriculum reforms in the early 1970s, the 1997 curriculum overhaul, and the current development initiatives have all been financed primarily through international grants or loans. Even recent initiatives under the S2R2 framework, including curriculum reform and the development of educational administration, continue to be funded by the World Bank and other international donors.

Between 2011 and 2022 alone, grants, aid, loans, and in-kind contributions to the education sector exceeded US$1.7 billion from donor countries, in addition to more than US$2 billion spent by UNICEF over the same period.

This reality reflects the absence of sustained national investment in education. The Lebanese state does not appear to possess an independent strategic vision for developing the sector, but instead continues to rely on international initiatives and external funding linked to global programmes such as Education for All, Education Cannot Wait, and the Sustainable Development Goals.

Education has never truly become a government priority. Instead, it has remained dependent on the individual initiatives of certain ministers or administrations, without a coherent national policy linking education to economic, social, and cultural development. At the same time, the private education sector has steadily expanded and now enrols around 70% of all students, while the role of the official school system has continued to decline despite serving as the primary safeguard for the country’s most vulnerable populations.

Spending Without a Vision

Over the past years, Lebanon’s education sector has received billions of dollars in grants, loans, and international assistance, particularly following the outbreak of the Syrian crisis and the influx of refugees into the country. International partners have financed a wide range of initiatives, including school construction, support for teachers’ salaries, social incentives, training programmes, rehabilitation projects, solar energy installations, digital platforms, and even school feeding programmes.

Yet the results have remained limited. In fact, several indicators point to a decline in the quality of education and educational governance. Learning outcomes have deteriorated, dropout rates have increased, learning loss has accumulated, and teachers and education personnel have faced growing hardship as their social and economic conditions have continued to deteriorate.

This demonstrates that funding alone is not enough in the absence of a strategic vision. Spending that is not tied to a clear reform agenda can become another factor in perpetuating the crisis rather than resolving it. Moreover, governments’ near-total reliance on external funding has increasingly tied education policies to donors’ priorities and conditions rather than to the country’s actual national needs.

Wars and Emergencies: Education Outside the Priorities

Since the outbreak of the war in October 2023 and the subsequent escalation on Lebanese territory, the fragility of government emergency plans for dealing with the education sector has become increasingly apparent. Schools were used as shelters for displaced families without adequate educational alternatives being put in place, leading to the disruption of schooling across wide areas and depriving thousands of students, including those in relatively safe areas and refugee communities, of their right to education.

Although the government adopted emergency plans in coordination with several ministries, the funding allocated to these efforts remained extremely limited. Relief operations relied primarily on civil society organisations, international agencies, and external assistance, while the state refrained from allocating a genuine emergency budget to address the impact of the war on education.

Following the end of the first round of escalation, it became clear that a number of schools had been partially or completely damaged. Yet the government did not move to finance reconstruction through national resources, instead waiting for international loans and aid. The same pattern has been repeated during the latest war that erupted in February 2026: an absence of government funding, continued reliance on external assistance, and the postponement of solutions until international support arrives, without any meaningful effort to mobilise the country’s own financial or human resources to mitigate the crisis.

The Underutilisation of Educational Human Resources

The Ministry of Education possesses the second largest qualified human and administrative resource base in Lebanon, employing approximately 50,000 teachers, administrators, and staff members. These human resources could have played a central role during times of crisis, whether by organising education inside and outside displacement shelters, providing psychosocial support to children and families, or helping coordinate displacement response efforts.

Instead, official emergency plans reduced the role of the Ministry of Education to little more than providing school buildings. No meaningful effort was made to mobilise the sector’s existing human capacities in areas such as alternative education, social activities, counselling, psychosocial support, or even contributing to the management of displacement-related affairs.

Teachers and educators possess valuable expertise in working with children, adolescents, and persons with disabilities, as well as in health guidance and counselling. These capacities could have been integrated into a comprehensive national plan aimed at mitigating the effects of displacement and war. Instead, the state chose to leave most of these resources unused, relying instead on delayed attempts at remote learning despite the absence of adequate digital infrastructure.

Where Do the Financial Savings Go?

Ironically, periods of war and institutional disruption can sometimes generate financial savings within public administrations, including the Ministry of Education. When schools close or staff attendance declines, transportation costs, operational expenses, and other running costs are reduced. Yet these savings are not redirected into emergency funds to support education or relief efforts; instead, they remain within the general accounts of the Ministry of Finance.

Nor has the state adopted any flexible mechanism that would allow these resources to be redirected toward urgent priorities during times of crisis. This is partly due to the nature of Lebanon’s financial system, in which the budget remains largely fixed once approved, making it difficult to amend allocations or open exceptional appropriations without a lengthy and complex legislative process.

At the same time, the government failed to allocate emergency funding for digital education or to provide the tools necessary for remote learning, despite repeated rhetoric about digital transformation. Even projects announced years ago to develop comprehensive educational platforms have remained delayed or incomplete, despite the substantial sums already spent on them.

The Need for a New Vision

The repeated crises Lebanon has experienced since 2000 reveal that the country’s fundamental problem lies not only in a lack of funding, but also in the absence of a strategic vision that recognises education as a cornerstone of development and stability. The state has not treated the official school system as a long-term national project, but rather as an operational burden subject to political bargaining and administrative constraints.

Without changing this approach, no amount of grants or loans will be capable of bringing about meaningful transformation. Educational reform requires a comprehensive national strategy that links education to economic and social development while establishing clear emergency policies capable of ensuring the continuity of learning during wars and disasters.

Lebanon must also rethink the way it manages its public resources, both financial and human, so that financial savings generated during crises can be redirected into exceptional funds supporting essential sectors instead of remaining frozen within the traditional financial system. At the same time, the social role of teachers should be strengthened to enable them to contribute more effectively to protecting communities during times of crisis.

Ultimately, education cannot be protected in a country that repeatedly faces crises without a genuine political commitment that recognises investment in people as the foundation of any meaningful recovery project. Education is not a secondary service that can simply be suspended whenever a crisis emerges; it is an essential condition for protecting society and rebuilding the state.

References

In the midst of this scene, the issue of education emerges as one of the most pressing and dangerous issues for the country’s future and present, not only because the war has disrupted the right of hundreds of thousands of children and young people to learn, but also because the way education is handled during crises reveals the nature of the political and moral choices that govern society and the state. The challenge today is not only to ensure the continuity of education or to protect the school year from collapse (regardless of what we define by the criteria of a successful or collapsed school year), but also How to achieve this without turning education into an additional tool for reproducing inequality and division. 

A Brief Definition of Equity in Education

Equity in education is a complex concept in which multiple approaches intersect: while the liberal approach focuses on equal opportunity – that is, the removal of formal barriers to access to education – the equity approach goes further to demand a redistribution of resources for the benefit of the most disadvantaged, to compensate for the lack of social origin. The capacity approach adds  another dimension: it is not enough to provide education, but it must actually enable the individual to live a life of his or her own free and dignified life. In contrast, critical approaches reveal that Sen,   Nussbaum, 2011). In contrast, critical approaches—from the American economic theorists Samuel Bowles and Herbert Gintis, 1976) to the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu (Bourdieu & Passeron, 1990)—reveal that the school often reproduces social inequality under the guise of the formal curriculum, transforming class privilege into individual merit and deprivation into personal inferiority. What unites these approaches, though they differ, is their recognition that education cannot be fair in an unjust society – and that true educational justice necessarily requires addressing the social and economic structures that fuel inequality beyond the walls of the school.

History of Injustice in Education in Lebanon

The history of injustice in education in Lebanon does not begin with the economic collapse or the civil war or the Israeli war, but extends to the foundational moment of the formation of the Lebanese entity itself. 

In his book “The Culture of Sectarianism,” Osama Makdisi shows  how European colonialism employed education as a tool to consolidate its existence by distributing educational privileges along deliberate sectarian lines. In the absence of any Ottoman interest in educating the population, the missions monopolized the distribution of modern knowledge sectarianly and employed it to enable it to dominate and colonize. This intended inequality of opportunity was the primary mechanism for building ideological identities that served colonialism. Here, Maqdisi meets with Mehdi Amel in the depth of his thesis: what Makdissi observed in the nineteenth century is the foundational moment of what Amel analyzed more than five decades ago, when he was studying philosophy at the Sidon Public High School, that the educational system in Lebanon was not built to achieve justice, but to protect the privileges of the dominant groups and to reproduce the existing sectarian-class system.

In this sense, the weakness of formal education was not an administrative failure, but rather a deliberate function: the sectarian state has no structural interest in building a unified educational system that raises class awareness and eliminates the differences between regions and sects, because such a system threatens the base on which its system is based and includes two needs: First, the need for a sectarian leader as a mediator to access services and rights, on the one hand, and the second need is to ensure the protection of the interests of the ruling class, which is itself the wealthy class that includes sectarian leaders.  As many private schools are either free or non-free or sect-owned,  the private sector, which is the partner of the ruling class, must be protected.

During the establishment of the State of Lebanon, there were successful attempts in the 1960s and 1970s to achieve justice in education for various categories of Lebanese. Available data show that formal education in Lebanon experienced an exceptional expansion during the era of independence, as the number of students in public schools increased from 276,704 to 732,681 between 1959 and 1971, i.e., by 165%, and the education budget peaked in 1977 at 22% of GDP (Farha, 2012).). However, this expansion never led to the dominance of the formal sector in actual enrollment, as private schools throughout that era maintained the majority of students. The highest accurately documented public school enrolment  rate dates back to 2003–2004 at 37.9% according  to CRDP statistical bulletins  , while Education Above All data  indicates 41.3% in 1979–1980. Since then, the rate has steadily declined to 25.6% in 2023–2024 – Lowest level on record – except for a temporary rise to 36.5% in 2020–2021 when many families were forced to transfer their children from private to public schools under the weight of the economic collapse. CRDP, 2024).

Perhaps the real danger lies not only in the growth of the private educational sector at the expense of the public, but also in the fact that we have stopped talking much about justice. The last study on the impact of socio-economic background on education was conducted in the early 1970s by Khalil Abu Rjeili (1975).  Instead of addressing inequality, it reproduces it and gives it moral legitimacy, which is exactly what Mehdi Amel warned about when he saw in the educational system an ideological apparatus that reproduces the class system and gives it an aura of determinism. In the Taif Agreement (1989), he enshrined this reality, and justice was mentioned only twice that had nothing to do with education. But when Taif addressed the subject of education, he enshrined the following equation:  “Protecting private education… and reform of formal education.” Since then, public school has been treated as a sector to be managed, while private education must be protected.  Here we ask who should protect this sector and why should it be protected, especially given that the majority of these schools are affiliated with sects, their associations or politicians? 

Thus, the educational system in Lebanon has turned into a political cover for a deep class structure: those who could afford to pay joined the private sector – with varying levels and costs – and ensured better chances in social mobility, and those who remained disabled in the formal sector, which suffers the most in the primary stages, where repetition and dropout rates accumulate, and children in their first formative years lose the opportunities enjoyed by their peers in the private sector and are difficult to compensate for later. From the beginning, the starting point is unequal, and the social difference between the two families turns into an educational difference, and then into a difference in the future. It is as if education was designed to consolidate what existed, not to change it. 

Education is no longer a public right, but rather an expensive existential investment that families go through alone, so that they spend almost a third of their income on it. The state itself continues to finance the private sector indirectly by granting education to employees, which increase in value as the rank rises, thus promoting the reproduction of the social hierarchy itself. The state spends on financing the private sector by granting employees the equivalent  of 70% of what it currently spends on the public education sector (Neama 2023). In contrast,  nearly 30% of children today stand on the brink of dropping  out of school (CAS & UNICEF 2025), while children with disabilities and refugee students are left out of educational policies and debates almost entirely, as if they do not already exist in the state’s perception of education and citizenship. Then came the Israeli aggression and added other challenges to the concept of justice in education

Education Justice in the Shadow of War

These questions are becoming increasingly dangerous in light of Israel’s intensive targeting of specific areas and social segments, and the accompanying clear attempts to deepen internal division and weaken any sense of common destiny. In such moments, education is no longer just a service sector or an administrative file, but becomes a central arena for the struggle over the meaning of justice, the form of the state, and the nature of the society we want to build during and after war.

This article begins with an attempt to question the concept of justice in education during war: what does educational justice look like in the context of war? How can education policies be formulated that do not punish the most disadvantaged and do not re-privilege those who already have the greatest ability to survive and prosper?

In light of the Israeli war, the talk of educational justice is no longer a theoretical debate or a postponed reform demand, but  rather a question of the survival of society itself. The Israeli aggression has caused widespread destruction in the education sector, with the displacement of some 1.2 million people, the closure of 1,228 public  schools (2,780 public and private schools), and the conversion of 642 educational institutions, including 550 A public school to shelters for the displaced. The direct impact also affected about one million pupils, more than   45,000 teachers,  and about 250,000 students in the afternoon shift and educational centers, while only 310 public  schools remained operating at the height of the aggression,  while most private schools were opened in safe areas. 

By December 2024, 349 schools had been partially  damaged and 33 schools were completely destroyed, while students in the south, the Bekaa, Baalbek, and the southern suburbs experienced repeated interruptions, forced displacement, and fragile education through messaging apps. However, a field study conducted by the Center for Lebanese Studies in March 2026 reveals that this war did not bring about a sudden educational interruption, but rather deepened a cumulative collapse that began since the economic crisis of 2019, passing through the Corona pandemic, the port explosion and successive wars.

To understand what educational justice can really mean in light of this war, it is not enough to have a theoretical or political debate alone, but to listen to the lived experiences of students, teachers, parents, and school principals who live this war on a daily basis. The field study conducted by the Center for Lebanese Studies during the war, which included interviews and discussion groups with 88 participants, including students, parents, teachers, and school principals, as well as a survey of 300 teachers in public schools, said that what the education sector is experiencing today is not just a “temporary stumbling block” that can be overcome by returning to the classroom or by taking official exams, but rather a deep crisis of justice that reveals who really has the right to education and who is gradually pushed out of it.

At the height of the war, the Ministry of Education relied on distance education and hybrid education as a solution to continuity. However, the study reveals that this “continuity” was not equal. Distance education effectively became a class privilege associated with having electricity, internet, appliances, and a safe space inside the home. 83% of teachers reported that weak or interrupted internet was one of the most prominent obstacles, while 46% indicated that students did not have enough equipment. % of teachers confirmed that less than half of their students were regularly participating in classes.

Inside the shelters, the idea of “e-learning” seemed almost detached from the daily reality of the students. Families shared a single phone, and children lived in overcrowded rooms with no privacy, electricity and quiet. Some students were studying in the corridors or waiting for their father to return by phone so they could continue their lessons. In many cases, the internet packages announced by the ministry did not reach students at all, or reached parents’ phones in a way that did not allow them to be used for actual learning.

The study also reveals that the war has not only deepened the disparities between rich and poor, but has also reproduced inequalities between regions and social groups. In the south and Nabatieh, more than 90% of schools relied on distance learning due to the intensity of the targeting, while others were able to partially maintain face-to-face or hybrid education. This means that the war did not affect all students equally, but rather redistributed learning opportunities according to geography, safety, and economic capacity. 

If the war has deepened Lebanon’s educational inequalities in general, its impact on Syrian and Palestinian refugees has been even more severe. Refugees entered this war already in a fragile position within Lebanon’s education system, after years of marginalization and repeated interruptions from education, poor funding, declining access to formal education, and an increase in anti-social political rhetoric. % of Syrian children are already out of school, while dropout rates have been steadily rising as a result of the economic crisis, child labor, difficulty in mobility, and declining international funding for education programs. With the war, this fragility has worsened unprecedentedly. Many second-shift schools have closed or been converted into shelters, while thousands of refugees have found themselves again displaced inside Lebanon, or unable to access education due to displacement, poverty and lack of internet and devices.

Children with disabilities and learning disabilities were among the most marginalized and excluded. The study indicates that  only 5% of teachers considered current education styles to be sensitive to the needs of students with disabilities, while most respondents acknowledged a near-total absence of any specialized services, psychological support, or inclusive arrangements within schools or shelters. Most of the shelters themselves were also ill-equipped to receive people with disabilities, leaving many completely isolated from education and services.

But perhaps the most dangerous result of the study is that the crisis is no longer just a crisis of access to education, but a crisis of the meaning of education itself. Many students, teachers, and parents are questioning the usefulness of curricula and exams that are imposed in the same way on students living in radically contradictory conditions. Most of the participants saw the insistence on ending the official curricula and exams as reflecting a “normalization policy with war”, which treats students as if they live in equal conditions, while some learn from stable homes and others try to study from shelters or under bombardment, fear and displacement.

The study also reveals the enormous burnout experienced by teachers themselves. 79% of teachers reported that they did not receive adequate support, while 55% said they suffered psychologically while teaching, and only about 1% received any psychological support. In many cases, teachers themselves were displaced or living in precarious conditions, while being asked to continue teaching and managing Psychological and social crises for students at the same time.

In the face of the heated talk about the Ministry of Education’s decision to continue with the official exams, another study by the Center for Lebanese Studies shows that students’ readiness rates to take official exams have witnessed a sharp and continuous decline since 2023, reflecting the cumulative impact of crises and wars on the educational process. In 2023, the percentage of students who considered themselves ready for official exams reached 48% in the private sector compared to 21% in the formal sector. 2024 to 27% in the private sector and 17% in the formal sector, before  falling to an unprecedented low in 2026, at just 8% in the private sector and 7% in the formal sector. These figures reveal not only the scale of the educational collapse, but also how the traditional disparities between the two sectors have begun to narrow due to the total collapse and war, although their effects on formal education students and the most vulnerable have remained more severe. The past years have shown that official exams have lost a large part of their educational meaning due to the way they are administered and used politically and administratively. If some private school students need exam results to get admission to universities abroad, this cannot become the only criterion on which educational policies are based in a country that is experiencing war and collapse of this magnitude.

The Meaning of Justice in Wars

In the face of Israel’s ongoing war on Lebanon, defining the meaning and nature of education justice in war is becoming more urgent and complex. Wartime justice cannot mean that all students are treated the same despite their radically different circumstances, and cannot be reduced to “continuity of education” and formal examinations at all costs. Any serious talk of wartime educational justice must begin with an acknowledgement of a fundamental truth: wars do not produce equal suffering, but rather deepen existing inequalities and distribute pain and loss unevenly. The role of the state and the Ministry of Education cannot be reduced to simply keeping schools open or holding official exams as the only evidence of “continuity of education” or “resilience.” This approach reduces education to its administrative and technical dimension, and ignores its deeper moral and social function in moments of division and collective pain. 

The primary responsibility of education during the war is not to turn war into a permanent mechanism that excludes the most vulnerable from both education and the future, and that they do not have a deeper and more dangerous conviction: that the state and the school have never been theirs, have not cared about their pain, and will not make them a priority in any policies. If they are not the most numerous among the students, they are the most unjust, and therefore their pain is a priority.  The second responsibility is to promote social solidarity among the different segments of society, especially those that pay the highest price in terms of killing, displacement, loss and disruption to normal life. In wartime, the success of education is measured not by the number of exams conducted or the curricula completed, but by its ability to protect the social fabric and strengthen the collective sense that society does not leave its most vulnerable children to face their fate alone.

Therefore, making solidarity the central value that governs educational policies may be one of the most important things the Ministry of Education can do today. Education, before capitalism and the modern state turned it into a tool for job sorting and individual competition, had a deeper social and moral meaning: for people to learn how to pick up each other in moments of fall and crisis and thrive together.

Perhaps one bright spot amid this collapse is the rich ground within Lebanese society itself for practices of solidarity and mutual care. The war has demonstrated dozens of local, individual and institutional initiatives that have attempted to protect education as a space for human relations rather than just a process of indoctrination. In the study of the Center for Lebanese Studies, the experiences of principals who from the early days of the war took the initiative to establish communication and support networks through WhatsApp applications to follow up on all their students, not only educationally, but also psychologically and socially. Initiatives have also emerged for schools that have welcomed displaced students and integrated them with non-displaced students, and for teachers who have turned virtual classrooms into spaces of support, breathing, and dialogue, rather than just places to finish lessons.

In this sense, the value of the “pathway” becomes more important than the “outcome,” and the way the school year is managed becomes more important than the certificate itself. 

References

Central Administration of Statistics (CAS) and United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF). (2025). Sub-National Lebanon Multiple Indicator Cluster Survey 2023, Statistical Snapshots. Beirut, Lebanon: CAS and UNICEF.

Abu Rajili, K. (1974). The Impact of Socio-Economic Background on Academic Achievement in Lebanon. Educational Center for Research and Development. https://www.crdp.org/sites/default/files/2020-11/Background%20Social%20For Students%20 and Their Success%20School Achievement%20Year%201972-1973.pdf

Agent, M . 2017.  In education and educational policy issues,

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Center for Lebanese Studies [CLS]. (2024). Education under fire: The impact of the Israeli aggression on education in Lebanon. <https://lebanesestudies.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Education%E2%80%AFUnder-Fire_v2.pdf>

Educational Center for Research and Development [CRDP]. (2024). Statistical Bulletin 2023–2024. <https://www.crdp.org/statistics-bulletin>

National Accord Document [Taif Agreement]. (1989). The Lebanese Republic.

Bourdieu, P., & Passeron, J.-C. (1990). Reproduction in education, society and culture (R. Nice, Trans.; 2nd ed.). Sage. (Original work published 1970)

Bowles, S., & Gintis, H. (1976). Schooling in capitalist America: Educational reform and the contradictions of economic life. Basic Books.

Chahine, S., Hammoud, M., & Shuayb, M. (2024). Learning loss in Lebanese public schools: Evidence from Grade 10 students. Centre for Lebanese Studies.

Farha, M. (2012). The historical legacy and political implications of state and sectarian schools in Lebanon. Academia. <https://www.academia.edu/4967938/The_Historical_Legacy_and_Political_Implications_of_State_and_Sectarian_Schools_in_Lebanon>

Lebanon Response Plan. (2026). Education sector dashboard [Power BI data visualisation]. <https://app.powerbi.com/view?r=eyJrIjoiNmU2N2Y2ODAtOTA0Zi00ZWRjLWIwMmQtMDBlNTZmNTY1MDA0IiwidCI6Ijc3NDEwMTk1LTE0ZTEtNGZiOC05MDRiLWFiMTg5MjAyMzY2NyIsImMiOjh9>

Makdisi, U. (2000). The culture of sectarianism: Community, history, and violence in nineteenth-century Ottoman Lebanon. University of California Press. https://www.ucpress.edu/book/9780520218468/the-culture-of-sectarianism

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Sen, A. (1999). Development as freedom. Oxford University Press.

تأتي هذه المقابلة مع د.ريما كرامي، وزيرة التربية والتعليم العالي في لبنان، في لحظة حرجة لنظام التعليم في البلاد، حيث باتت أزمة القطاع تعكس بشكل متزايد أزمة الدولة نفسها.

د. كرامي ليست سياسية محترفة، بل باحثة ميدانية سابقة و«ناشطة أكاديمية» كما تصف نفسها، انتقلت من دراسة المدارس إلى محاولة إصلاح النظام من داخله. 

من داخل الوزارة، تصف ما تسميه «نظام اللانظام»: مؤسسات ضعيفة، تعيينات مسيّسة، اعتماد على المانحين، واتخاذ قرارات تحكمه الضغوط أكثر مما تحكمه القوانين أو السياسات. 

وفي وقت تكافح فيه المدارس الرسمية للبقاء مفتوحة، ويعاني المعلمون من الإرهاق، وتتحمل العائلات تكاليف متزايدة، تكتسب هذه المقابلة أهمية لأنها تتجاوز حديث الإصلاح النظري. تقدّم  كرامي رواية نادرة وصريحة عمّا يعنيه الحكم فعليًا من الداخل كأكاديمية وباحثة وما الذي يتطلبه الأمر لإعادة بناء الحد الأدنى من قدرة الدولة قبل أي إصلاح تعليمي ذي معنى. 

 من ناشطة أكاديمية إلى وزيرة 

س: كباحثة سابقًا وصانعة سياسات الآن، ما الذي يبدو مختلفًا من الداخل؟ 

ج: هناك أمر واحد لم يتغيّر بالنسبة لي، وهو فهمي للمشكلات التي يواجهها التعليم. ما تغيّر هو مستوى التفاصيل التي أصبحت أراها من داخل الحكومة. 

سأستخدم تشبيهًا هنا. الأمر أشبه بالنظر عبر مجهر ثم الحصول فجأة على عدسة أقوى بكثير. يمكنك أن ترى الأشياء بمزيد من التفاصيل والتركيز. ترى الخلية كاملة، لكنك ترى أيضًا جميع المكوّنات التي بداخلها. 

ويرتبط ذلك جزئيًا بكوني لم أدخل العمل الحكومي كأكاديمية تقليدية. قبل أن أصبح وزيرة، كنت قد انتقلت بالفعل من دور الباحثة إلى ما أسمّيه «الباحثة-الناشطة». فمن خلال عملي مع المدارس، ثم لاحقًا عبر مبادرة «خّضة بيروت»، انتقلت من دراسة المشكلات إلى محاولة حلّها. 

كان الهدف من «خّضة بيروت» وضع معارفنا ومهاراتنا البحثية في خدمة العمل والتغيير. جمعنا تربويين وعاملين في القطاع الصحي وباحثين من مجالات مختلفة. بالنسبة لي، كان قبول منصب الوزيرة امتدادًا طبيعيًا لهذا المسار. لم أكن أتخلى عن البحث، بل كنت أحاول القيام بالشيء نفسه من موقع مختلف. 

في الواقع، عزّز وجودي داخل الحكومة قناعتي بأن صناعة السياسات تحتاج إلى باحثين. تحتاج إلى أشخاص يسألون: أين الدليل؟ ماذا تخبرنا البيانات؟ ما الافتراضات التي ننطلق منها؟ تحتاج إلى القدرة على التحليل، وعلى التراجع خطوة إلى الوراء لفهم الصورة الأوسع، وعلى مقاربة المشكلات من دون افتراض أنك تمتلك الإجابات مسبقًا. 

س: هل تغيّر تشخيصك بين الخارج والداخل؟ 

ج: لا. التشخيص بحدّ ذاته لم يتغيّر. ما تغيّر هو أن كثيرًا من الفرضيات التي كانت لديّ كباحثة تأكّدت. 

دخلتُ الحكومة وأنا أعتقد أن الوزارة تفتقر إلى القدرات اللازمة لدعم الابتكار والإصلاح. وكنت أشتبه بأن بنية النظام نفسها تشكّل عائقًا. كما كنت أرى أن هناك نقاط ضعف جدية في المعرفة المؤسسية وفي القدرة على التنفيذ. 

كانت هذه الأفكار مجرّد فرضيات عندما كنت خارج الحكومة. لكن بمجرد دخولي إليها، أصبح بإمكاني اختبارها. واتضح أن كثيرًا منها كان صحيحًا. 

ما فاجأني لم يكن التشخيص نفسه، بل حجم المشكلة. لقد قلّلت من تقدير حجم التأثير السياسي وعمق الضعف البنيوي. وكان ذلك الاكتشاف الأهم بالنسبة لي. 

لا توجد بيروقراطية. إنها ذهنية قبلية 

س: كيف بدا ذلك عمليًا؟ 

ج: لا توجد بيروقراطية. كثيرون يفترضون أن التأخير يحدث بسبب البيروقراطية، لكن في حالات كثيرة لا توجد حتى بيروقراطية فاعلة يمكن إلقاء اللوم عليها. 

هناك عدد قليل جدًا من الأشخاص الذين يحملون النظام فعليًا على أكتافهم. وإلى جانبهم أشخاص استنزفهم النظام إلى درجة جعلتهم شديدي الدفاعية ومنعدمي الثقة بكل ما يحيط بهم. 

للمرة الأولى في حياتي، تعلّمت كيف أعمل من دون ثقة. عادةً ما أعمل على بناء الثقة، لكن هنا إذا انتظرتَ الثقة قبل أن تتحرّك، ستجدين نفسك مشلولة وغير قادرة على فعل أي شيء. 

المشكلة الأخرى هي غياب التفكير المؤسِّس. عندما أسأل: «كيف نقوم بهذا الأمر؟ ماذا يقول القانون؟» وهي الطريقة التي تدرّبتُ من خلالها على التفكير في السياسات. يكون الجواب غالبًا: «ماذا تريدين أن تفعلي؟» 

وهذا بحد ذاته كاشف. فالقرارات كثيرًا ما تتشكّل وفقًا للأفراد، لا وفقًا للإجراءات أو القواعد أو المسؤوليات المحددة بوضوح. 

كما أن بعض الأشخاص ينزعجون إذا لم تتم دعوتهم إلى اجتماعات لا تمت بصلة إلى مسؤولياتهم. لا توجد مهنية حقيقية، ولا توصيفات واضحة للوظائف، ولا إحساس فعلي بالحدود المؤسسية. إنها، في كثير من النواحي، عقلية عشائرية أكثر منها عقلية مؤسساتية. 

س: نسمع دائمًا عبارة “لم يسمحوا لنا”. كيف تفهمين التدخل السياسي من موقعك؟ 

ج: كانت هذه لحظة الإدراك الكبرى بالنسبة لي. لم أكن مدركة لشدة الأمر. كان لغزًا – ماذا يعني التدخل السياسي؟ وما نتائج هذه التدخلات؟

الطابق الخامس عشر أشبه بسحابة يشغلها هؤلاء الأشخاص. أي شخص من الأسفل يحصل على ثقة جزئية، يضغط على الوزير الجالس هناك للحصول على ما يريد. نعم، كان هناك وزراء إصلاحيون، لكن لا أعرف عددهم. بعضهم جاء بفريقه الخاص. 

على سبيل المثال، جئت مستشارة عندما كان الوزير حسن منيمنة في المنصب. كانت زوجته أيضًا متخصصة في التعليم. وكان هناك تمويل من البنك الدولي وفريق كبير مكرّس للعمل. في تلك الفترة القصيرة تحقق الكثير – الكثير جدًا. نجح الأمر لأن هناك فريقًا.

إعادة بناء المؤسسات: القانون قبل «المجتمع» 

س: كيف يمكن كسر هذه الحلقة وإعادة بناء المؤسسات؟ 

ج: كباحثة دخلت هذا المجال، شعرت أن كل شيء سبق أن تعلمته.

كنت مقتنعة أن النموذج الإداري التعليمي يقوم على «المجتمع» النقاش، غياب الهرميات، المرونة، المنظمات المتكيفة، والسياسات المتكيفة. هذا غير صحيح. الخطوة الأولى هي الالتزام بالقانون، حتى لو لم يكن يعمل جيدًا. 

عندما اتخذت قرار الامتحانات مثلًا، كان علينا المضي بها رغم علمي بأنها بلا جدوى إلى حد كبير. المهم كان استعادة المفهوم: الامتحانات الرسمية ليست لإرضاء كل ولي أمر أو طالب. إنها موجودة لأن الوزارة يجب أن تتخذ قرارات. ولا ينبغي اتخاذ القرارات عبر مضايقة الوزراء أو الضغط عليهم بأسماء نافذة. 

الطريقة الثانية: لنجلس مع القواعد. ما هي؟ ولنعد إليها ونلتزم بها، مهما كانت ناقصة. 

استعادة سلطة الدولة — وهو أمر يتحدث عنه الجميع، لكن فقط فيما يتعلق بالسلاح؛ أما في قطاع التربية فهو هامشي. 

س: هل هذا يتعلق بالابتعاد عن الشخصنة واستعادة السلطة؟ 

ج: باستعادة سلطة الدولة,  وهو أمر يتحدث عنه الجميع، لكن فقط فيما يتعلق بالسلاح؛ أما هذا فهامشي. أؤمن بشدة أن قوة الدولة تكمن في المسؤوليات التي يفترض بالحكومة تحمّلها. نحن نعيش في هذا البلد كما لو أننا بلا دولة. 

س: هل يمكن للإصلاح أن يصمد بعد انتهاء الولاية؟ 

ج: يجب أن نقتنع بأن الأمر ليس مهمة شخص واحد. أسمع دائمًا «سنغادر»، لكن ماذا بعد؟ إذا أدرك البعض أن ما تحقق خلال ولايتنا – رغم كل المحاولات – كان يتحرك على الأقل في الاتجاه الصحيح، فسيؤمن الناس في الخارج بضرورة استكماله. 

هذا ما تفعله المجتمعات الديمقراطية. درست سياسات التعليم في الولايات المتحدة: عندما تنتهي الولاية، يواصل الناس العمل عبر البحث والضغط والتمويل. ثم تأتي الحكومة التالية وتكمل من حيث توقف السابقون. ليس مثاليًا، بالطبع. 

س: الجميع يلوم غياب المؤسسات. هل يمكن أصلًا إرساء مؤسسية في الوزارة؟ 

ج: المدير العام ومن هم دونه لا يعرقلون عمدًا؛ هم ببساطة لا يجرؤون على التصرف بشكل مختلف. 

ما تمّت مأسسته فعليًا هو «نظام اللانظام». و90٪ من الموظفين معيّنون سياسيًا. المقاومة التي أواجهها الآن تأتي من مجموعة من ما يسمى «الدولة العميقة». 

س: أبقيتِ كثيرًا من الموظفين المرتبطين سياسيًا رغم عدم كفاءتهم. 

ج: بالطبع! لأنه لم تكن هناك بدائل. أحتاج فرق تفتيش وبيانات. الجميع يتكلم، لكن من يقدم أدلة؟ بل على العكس، يحمون بعضهم. لو كنت أريد حقاً أن أكون عنيدة،  لكان بإمكاني اتخاذ إجراء ما، لكن ذلك لم يكن ليُعتبر تصرفاً مسؤولاً. 

استغنيت عن بعض الموظفين، وأتعرض لهجوم بسبب ذلك. الأمر مرتبط بدائرة الامتحانات، وهي الآن في أيدٍ جديدة — أشخاص من داخل الوزارة لكنهم مؤهلون. أخذت توصيات، وأجريت مقابلات، وأعتمد عليهم للتصرف كموظفين مدنيين. 

المانحون، «الرؤية»، وأساسيات الحوكمة 

س: ما الذي يمكنك فعليًا القيام به، بشكل ملموس، داخل وزارة كهذه؟ 

ج: نحتاج إلى وقت. ما أحاول القيام به هو البدء من المساحات التي يجب أن تتدخل فيها الوزارة وتتحرك. أول مجال عملت عليه وبدأت أتلقى ملاحظات حول أثره ، هو العلاقة بين المانحين والوزارة، لأنه بهذه الدرجة من الأهمية. 

طالما أن حكومتك لا تستطيع دفع قرش واحد نحو مشاريعك التنموية، فهكذا يتحكمون بمستقبلك. في الوقت الحالي، هم يتحكمون بحاضرك وبمستقبلك معًا. يركزون على الاستجابة الطارئة، وإذا ظهرت نافذة لشيء آخر, أو ما يسمونه مؤخرًا «تقوية النظام» , فإن المال لا يزال يأتي منهم. 

يقولون إن الوزارة تريد أن تتحرك، لكنني اكتشفت أن شيئًا لم يكن يُنفذ فعليًا. اعترفت بالخطة الاستراتيجية وبالأولويات، وأخبرتهم أنني أريد إضافة رؤية عمّا يجب أن تبدو عليه المؤسسة التعليمية المثالية. وقد فعلت ذلك. وداخل هذه الرؤية توجد مجالات محددة. لذلك عندما يأتون لدعمنا، سنوجّه تمويلهم نحو هذه المجالات, حتى لو لم يتمكنوا من تمويلها كلها. ليس دورهم تحقيق رؤيتي المثالية؛ هذه مسؤوليتي أنا. وكان للرؤية أثر كبير. قبل ذلك، لم أكن أفهم حقًا كيف تسير الأمور هنا. خلفيتي الأكاديمية ساعدتني. 

س: هل تقبّل المانحون ذلك؟ 

ج: نعم، إلى حد كبير. لكن إلى حد معيّن فقط. في البداية ظنوا أن الأمر استعراضي، لأنهم يميلون إلى ذلك ويركزون على العلاقات العامة. بعد أن نفذت هذا النهج، شرحت لهم أن التمويل كان قد خُصص بالفعل، وأنني انضممت في منتصف الدورة. عرضت عليهم ما أنجزته وما ينبغي أن يمولوه لي، التقييم الوطني، والحاجة الملحّة للقيادة التي لم تكن مدرجة في الخطة الاستراتيجية. 

أنا أوثّق كل شيء. عندما تسلمت هذا المنصب لأول مرة، أُعطيت تقريرًا مكتوبًا بخط اليد من صفحة واحدة. لم يكن هناك شيء على أجهزة الكمبيوتر. 

لم أستطع إعادة صياغة كل شيء بسبب حجم الموارد التي كانت تتدفق. على سبيل المثال، كان الألمان يعملون على الحوكمة، ولم يكن أحد يعرف حقًا عمّا كانوا يتحدثون. 

س: هل يمكن مأسسة هذا النهج للوزراء القادمين؟ 

ج: إذا كان الوزير الذي سيخلفني ذا تفكير رجعي، فسيكون لذلك أثر. أما إذا حافظت الوزارة التالية على 80٪ على الأقل من منجزات الإصلاح التي حققتها وزارتنا، فأنا واثقة أنهم سيبنون على ما هو موجود بالفعل. 

وذلك بسبب الطريقة التي أعمل بها، أنا أوثّق كل شيء. عندما تسلمت هذا المنصب لأول مرة، أُعطيت تقريرًا مكتوبًا بخط اليد من صفحة واحدة. لم يكن هناك شيء على أجهزة الكمبيوتر. 

أحد الأمور التي فعلتها هو فتح خط مباشر ومأسسته: مركز اتصال على مكتب الوزير. يمكن لأي شخص الاتصال به، طلاب، تربويون، موظفون، للتعبير عن شكاواهم. أتمتُّ النظام. كل الشكاوى التي تُسجل خلال ولايتي يتم توثيقها. يقوم أحد الموظفين بتحليل الأنماط. ومن هناك تعلمت ما هي القضايا الأساسية. 

في الوقت الحالي، لا يمكننا إجراء تغييرات استراتيجية كبرى لأن هناك الكثير من التسريبات، وعليك سدّها جميعًا داخل نظام لا يعمل بشكل سليم. على سبيل المثال، فيما يتعلق بمعادلات الشهادات، أعمل على تدخلات قصيرة المدى بالتوازي مع خطة طويلة المدى. 

س: كيف يبدو «المدى الطويل» في ظل هذا الاضطراب؟ 

ج: عملت على مسودة قانون، وإذا لم أتمكن من إقراره خلال ولايتي وكانوا يريدونه، فسيمررونه لاحقًا، تمامًا كما فعلت مع قانون أقدم من الوزير السابق حسن منيمنة. كان ذلك القانون يتعلق بمؤهلات من يدخلون مهنة التعليم. شكّلنا لجنة، قدمنا توصيات، حسّناه، والآن تم إقراره. هذا هو العمل طويل المدى. 

نعمل أيضًا على منصات شراكة لأننا لا نعرف أي منظمات غير حكومية تعمل مع الوزارة. تظهر منظمات في المدارس، وإذا ارتكبت أخطاء تقول وسائل الإعلام إنها كانت مخوّلة بالدخول وبينما نحن لا نعرف أصلًا من يعمل معنا. لا توجد آلية. 

قاعدة البيانات والبرمجيات ضمن المشروع. كانت هناك تراخيص تقنية معلومات على وشك الانتهاء، ولم يخبرني أحد. كانت كل البيانات ستختفي مع انتهاء الترخيص. 

صنّفت مركز الاتصال وربطته بقاعدة بيانات. وفي مجال تكنولوجيا المعلومات، نظمت الوحدة وسنضع شروطًا مرجعية. أريد دمجها في النظام الداخلي. تقنيًا يتطلب هذا قانونًا، لكنني أعمل حاليًا من دون قانون. 

تعلّمنا نظرية التغيير أن نكون حذرين جدًا بشأن موضع تدخلنا في النظام. ففي بعض المجالات، يولّد التدخل أقصى درجات المقاومة، وهذا أمر عكسي. 

نحاول أيضًا إيجاد منصة لقسم المالية. معظم التمويل وصناع القرار الأساسيين يجلسون في قمة المشروع، وأي شخص يريد الوصول يستخدم شبكاته، علاقاته. 

عندما يتعلق الأمر بترميم المدارس، وهو المجال الأكثر تمويلًا، هناك مدارس رُممت عشرين مرة، بينما أخرى لا تملك حتى سقفًا. وبعض المدارس التي رُممت عشرين مرة تضم نحو عشرين طالبًا فقط، بينما المدارس بلا سقف تضم ألف طالب. 

ومع ازدياد وصولي إلى قاعدة البيانات هذه، أصبحت جميع القرارات تُتخذ بناءً على معايير أحددها أنا للمشروع. أضع معايير للأولوية ونعمل وفقها. بدأت أُدخل مزايا تستند إلى مبدأ أنه لكي تكون منصفًا، عليك أن تعطي أكثر. هناك مناطق كاملة لم يُنجز فيها أي شيء على الإطلاق. 

س: ماذا عن مقاربتك للقطاع الخاص؟ 

ج: لأننا لا نستطيع معالجة الامتيازات التي تتمتع بها هذه المدارس ضمن نظامنا السياسي، فمن المستحيل تعديل القوانين وإحداث تغييرات هيكلية، لذلك مقاربتي هي تفعيل ضمان الجودة. 

تعلّمنا نظرية التغيير أن نكون حذرين جدًا بشأن موضع تدخلنا في النظام. ففي بعض المجالات، يولّد التدخل أقصى درجات المقاومة، وهذا أمر عكسي. يجب أن تضرب النظام في نقطة استراتيجية. أعتقد أن الإصرار على ضمان الجودة في التعليم العالي أولوية. هناك لجنة تعمل حاليًا على وضع معايير لضمان الجودة في الجامعات الخاصة — وهم يضعون اللمسات الأخيرة عليها. 

حدود الدور 

س: ما حجم الدعم الذي تتلقينه من رئيس الحكومة؟ 

ج: لدي دعم كبير من رئيس الوزراء نواف سلام، لكنه يخوض المعركة نفسها التي أخوضها. هو أيضًا جاء من خارج النظام. نظيف، قانوني، حسن النية ويحاول التنقل في أرضية لا تُصدَّق. 

ادعموا النجاحات الصغيرة. هذا ما نحتاج إليه. هذا ما يسمح لنا بالحفاظ على موطئ قدم في هذه المساحات. ربما سأكون شهيدة لهذه المحاولة، لكن إن لم أثبت شيئًا فسأثبت فقط أنني لا أملك غطاءً سياسيًا. دعمي الوحيد هو رئيس الوزراء نواف سلام. ليس لدي غطاء طائفي. 

لكن هذا لا يزال غير كافٍ. بالطبع غير كافٍ. لأنك لا تملك مؤسسات، أو أنظمة، أو قوانين.   

س: هل من الممكن تعزيز التفتيش وبناء القدرات «من الأسفل»؟ 

ج: نعم، بالتأكيد، يمكنني وضع معايير. قلت لهم: «لن أقبل بذلك ما لم أقتنع». لا يوجد حاليًا قانون يُلزمُني بالتثبيت الآن. 

لا أريد تثبيت الجميع. أريد تثبيت من يستحق. عيّنت الآن مديرًا للامتحانات. وهناك ما يسمى مديرية التخطيط، عيّنت فيها موظفًا مدنيًا. وعيّنت شخصًا تحت المدير العام، وهم موظفون مدنيون. 

يمكننا أن نُحدث فرقًا كبيرًا. إذا لم يشعروا بالتهديد. 

ما أقوم به الآن هو الحوكمة. في وزاراتنا لا يوجد شيء اسمه وحدة تخطيط استراتيجي. أنا الآن أبني حوكمة وحدة تخطيط استراتيجي اعتمادًا على خبرتي مع مستشاريّ. آمل أن يصبح بعضهم موظفين مدنيين. من دونهم لن ينجح الأمر، بالنظر إلى هيكلية الوزارة. المرحلة القادمة تتطلب تغييرًا تحوليًا، لا مجرد صيانة. 

هذه تغييرات هيكلية. نعم، وأنا أقوم بها. لكنها غير مرئية؛ كيف تشرح لهم إلى أين تتجه؟ 

سننشئ وحدة تُسمى «وحدة التخطيط الاستراتيجي» داخل تكنولوجيا المعلومات المركزية. يجب أن تكون مدمجة هناك. وسيكون فيها موظفون مدنيون. الوزير يأتي بفريقه، وهذا الفريق يعين فورًا مستشارين في ذلك المستوى. 

نعمل على احتياجات التوظيف، الموارد البشرية. ونعمل على تدريب المديرين. إذا أردتم مساعدتي، اذهبوا إلى المركز التربوي، الذي لا يملك شيئًا حاليًا. هناك شواغر، وليست تكليفات مؤقتة. 

س: هل أنت متفائلة بإمكانية استمرار ذلك بعد ولايتك؟ 

ج: يعتمد الأمر على ما إذا كان الوزير الذي سيخلفني سيقبل أن أكون مستشارته، مجانًا، لمدة ستة أشهر، وأن يمنحني فائدة الشك. يمكننا أن نُحدث فرقًا كبيرًا. إذا لم يشعروا بالتهديد. ماذا يمكنني أن أفعل أكثر من ذلك؟ 

*الآراء الواردة في هذا المقال لا تعبر بالضرورة عن رأي المجلة أو مركز الدراسات اللبنانية، بل تمثل رأي صاحبها فقط