{"id":1433,"date":"2026-06-10T15:02:20","date_gmt":"2026-06-10T15:02:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/how-war-reproduces-inequality-in-lebanon\/"},"modified":"2026-10-12T20:56:18","modified_gmt":"2026-10-12T20:56:18","slug":"how-war-reproduces-inequality-in-lebanon","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/how-war-reproduces-inequality-in-lebanon\/","title":{"rendered":"Who is entitled to learn? Educational Justice in Wartime"},"content":{"rendered":"

While the Israeli war machine continues to kill civilians, destroy homes and infrastructure, and occupy parts of Lebanese territory, the effects of war are not limited to human and material losses, but also extend to the foundations of coexistence, social trust, and the potential for state-building itself. Wars are measured not only by the number of casualties and the scale of destruction, but also by their ability to reshape social relations and demographic structure, deepening inequality, and redefining who has the right to protection, resources, prosperity and greater opportunities for a better future, depends largely on how the state manages the challenges of war.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A Brief Definition of Equity in Education<\/b><\/h2>\n

Equity in education is a complex concept in which multiple approaches intersect: while the liberal approach focuses on equal opportunity \u2013 that is, the removal of formal barriers to access to education \u2013 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\u00a0 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, \u00a0 Nussbaum, 2011). In contrast, critical approaches\u2014from the American economic theorists Samuel Bowles and Herbert Gintis, 1976) to the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu (Bourdieu & Passeron, 1990)\u2014reveal 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 \u2013 and that true educational justice necessarily requires addressing the social and economic structures that fuel inequality beyond the walls of the school.<\/span><\/p>\n

History of Injustice in Education in Lebanon<\/b><\/h2>\n

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.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In his book “The Culture of Sectarianism,”<\/span> Osama Makdisi shows <\/span><\/a>\u00a0<\/span>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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.\u00a0 As many private schools are either free or non-free or sect-owned,\u00a0 the private sector, which is the partner of the ruling class, must be protected.<\/span><\/p>\n

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 (<\/span>Farha, 2012<\/span><\/a>).). 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\u00a0 rate dates back to 2003\u20132004 at 37.9% according\u00a0 to CRDP statistical bulletins\u00a0 , while Education Above All data\u00a0 indicates 41.3% in 1979\u20131980. Since then, the rate has steadily declined to 25.6% in 2023\u20132024 – Lowest level on record \u2013 except for a temporary rise to 36.5% in 2020\u20132021 when many families were forced to transfer their children from private to public schools under the weight of the economic collapse. <\/span>CRDP, 2024<\/span><\/a>).<\/span><\/p>\n

Perhaps the real danger lies not only in the growth of the private educational sector at the expense of the public<\/span>, 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).\u00a0 Instead of addressing inequality, it reproduces it and gives it moral legitimacy<\/span>, 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<\/span>. 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:\u00a0 “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.\u00a0 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?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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 \u2013 with varying levels and costs \u2013 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.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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\u00a0 of 70% of what it currently spends on the public education sector (Neama 2023). In contrast,\u00a0 nearly 30% of children today stand on the brink of dropping\u00a0 out of school (<\/span>CAS & UNICEF 2025), <\/span>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. <\/span>Then came the Israeli aggression and added other challenges to the concept of justice in education<\/span><\/p>\n

Education Justice in the Shadow of War<\/b><\/h2>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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?<\/span><\/p>\n

In light of the Israeli war, the talk of educational justice is no longer a theoretical debate or a postponed reform demand, but\u00a0 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\u00a0 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 \u00a0 45,000 teachers,\u00a0 and about 250,000 students in the afternoon shift and educational centers, while only 310 public\u00a0 schools remained operating at the height of the aggression,\u00a0 while most private schools were opened in safe areas.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

By December 2024, 349 schools had been partially\u00a0 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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

Children with disabilities and learning disabilities were among the most marginalized and excluded. The study indicates that\u00a0 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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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\u00a0 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.<\/span><\/p>\n

The Meaning of Justice in Wars<\/b><\/h2>\n

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.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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.\u00a0 <\/span>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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.<\/span><\/p>\n

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.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

References<\/h2>\n

Central Administration of Statistics (CAS) and United Nations Children\u2019s Fund (UNICEF). (2025).\u00a0<\/span>Sub-National Lebanon Multiple Indicator Cluster Survey 2023, Statistical Snapshots<\/span><\/i>. Beirut, Lebanon: CAS and UNICEF.<\/span><\/p>\n

Abu Rajili, K. (1974<\/span>). 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<\/span><\/p>\n

Agent, M . 2017.\u00a0 In education and educational policy issues,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0https:\/\/www.noor-book.com\/Book-Mahdi-Amel-in-Issues-of-Education-and-Policy-Education-pdf#google_vignette<\/span><\/p>\n

Center for Lebanese Studies [CLS]. (2024).\u00a0Education 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><\/span><\/p>\n

Educational Center for Research and Development [CRDP]. (2024). Statistical Bulletin 2023\u20132024. <https:\/\/www.crdp.org\/statistics-bulletin><\/span><\/p>\n

National Accord Document [Taif Agreement]. (1989).\u00a0The Lebanese Republic.<\/span><\/p>\n

Bourdieu, P., & Passeron, J.-C. (1990).\u00a0Reproduction in education, society and culture\u00a0(R. Nice, Trans.; 2nd ed.). Sage. (Original work published 1970)<\/span><\/p>\n

Bowles, S., & Gintis, H. (1976).\u00a0Schooling in capitalist America: Educational reform and the contradictions of economic life. Basic Books.<\/span><\/p>\n

Chahine, S., Hammoud, M., & Shuayb, M. (2024).\u00a0Learning loss in Lebanese public schools: Evidence from Grade 10 students. Centre for Lebanese Studies.<\/span><\/p>\n

Farha, M. (2012).\u00a0The 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><\/span><\/p>\n

Lebanon Response Plan. (2026).\u00a0Education sector dashboard\u00a0[Power BI data visualisation]. <https:\/\/app.powerbi.com\/view?r=eyJrIjoiNmU2N2Y2ODAtOTA0Zi00ZWRjLWIwMmQtMDBlNTZmNTY1MDA0IiwidCI6Ijc3NDEwMTk1LTE0ZTEtNGZiOC05MDRiLWFiMTg5MjAyMzY2NyIsImMiOjh9><\/span><\/p>\n

Makdisi, U. (2000).\u00a0The culture of sectarianism: Community, history, and violence in nineteenth-century Ottoman Lebanon. University of California Press. <\/span>https:\/\/www.ucpress.edu\/book\/9780520218468\/the-culture-of-sectarianism<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

Nehme, N. (2023). The Cost of Education in Lebanon: Treasury and Society Expenditure. Arabic version. Centre for Lebanese Studies<\/span><\/p>\n

Nussbaum, M. C. (2011).\u00a0Creating capabilities: The human development approach. Harvard University Press.<\/span><\/p>\n

Save the Children Lebanon. (2025).\u00a0Protection and education needs assessment. <https:\/\/lebanon.savethechildren.net\/><\/span><\/p>\n

Sen, A. (1999).\u00a0Development as freedom. Oxford University Press.<\/span><\/p>\n

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*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.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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When schools are closed and turned into shelters, and when learning becomes a privilege rather than a right, the war reveals what peace has hidden: that education in Lebanon has never been for everyone.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":792,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[131,115],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1433","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-home-slider","category-studies"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1433","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1433"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1433\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1824,"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1433\/revisions\/1824"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/792"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1433"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1433"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/education-monitor.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1433"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}