Abstract
Drawing upon Actor-Network Theory literature and a specific strand of urban assemblage literature, the cosmopolitical ontology offers a fresh and innovative perspective on urban politics. It positions the interactions between human and non-human entities as the central factor shaping politics. In this article, I have adopted this cosmopolitical ontology and proposed to analyze environmental and infrastructural controversies as a crucial methodological approach. This analysis sheds light on how territoriality and knowledge, key elements of urban politics, can be understood from this perspective. I use a diversity of methods including reports and press review, interviews, focus groups and surveys to map and analyze two controversies in Lebanon around the Deir Ammar electricity plant and Saida waste management plant. I show how “rogue” material non-human actants - in the form of fumes and particles, chemical compositions of waste and composts, bacteria, fuel leaks – destabilize the territorial assemblages brought together by these infrastructures. Polluted spaces become focal points for contesting established narratives of territorial solidarity and considerably weaken institutional and political governances. Expert discourses of State institutions and technical firms are put in question. While efforts to build a “localized” knowledge empowers local actors. However, as the case studies show, when controversies become protracted, interest in the complexity of infrastructural politics dwindles and more entrenched political actors are capable of recuperating these controversies to their advantage. This is why maintaining the “territorialization” of controversies through the development of localized knowledge is essential for these cosmopolitics to bring social and political change.
Conflicts and controversies regarding environmental and infrastructural issues in Lebanon are increasing in number and diversity. Iconic examples include campaigns for opening the historic Horch Beirut park to the public (El-Halawani, 2017; Shayya, 2010), the defense and preservation of public access to the coast against privatization at Dalieh and Ramlet El-Baida (Saksouk-Sasso, 2015; Saksouk-Sasso et al., 2015), opposition to the Fouad Boutros expressway project involving the destruction of a heritage district in Beirut (Issa, 2013; Puzon, 2017), the fight to protect the Bisri valley from a dam project (Nassour, 2020), and the mobilization against the management of solid waste in Beirut and Mount-Lebanon, which led to massive demonstrations in the summer of 2015. This increasing politicization of urban “mundane” and “technical” issues is not unique to Lebanon and can be found worldwide in the Global North and South. Furthermore, it has led to a growing literature in environmental, infrastructural, and urban studies that aims to capture and analyze these politics and their implications.
In Lebanon, the discussion of these conflicts in the public sphere and scientific urban literature often aligns with two dominant analytical frameworks: “communitarian geopolitics” and “the political economy of the spoliation of common goods.” The former literature is specific to the Lebanese context 1 but partially echoes international literature on divided cities (Bollens, 2007, 2012, 2021a; Gaffikin and Morrissey, 2011; Gentile, 2019; Nagle, 2014; Silver, 2010). It focuses on the symbolic dimension of objects and spaces, examining how certain communitarian groups use or impose physical devices such as street artifacts, monuments, housing projects, and infrastructures to assert control over “ideological territories” and include or exclude populations. These reflections discuss the potential for future conflicts leading to a “war yet to come” (Bou Akar, 2018) and how such conflicts can be mitigated through attention to symbolic issues like memory, heritage, inter-communitarian governance relations, and urban design and planning approaches that are aware of these dimensions (Bou Akar, 2018; Brand and Fregonese, 2013; Calame and Charlesworth, 2011; Davie, 1994; Fregonese, 2020; Ghanem, 2021; Harb, 2011; Kastrissianakis, 2012, 2016; Nucho, 2016; Salamay and Tabar, 2008; Vloeberghs, 2020; Tamimova, 2022).
The second literature focuses on the political economy, political ecology, and mechanisms of the spoliation of the commons by elites (Assouad, 2021; Bauman, 2016; Dibeh, 2005; Eid-Sabbagh, 2014; Fawaz 2013; Ghiotti and Riachi, 2013; Leenders, 2012; Nassour, 2020; Saksouk-Sasso, 2015; Verdeil, 2019). It examines how regulatory and financial tools, along with “modernizing” infrastructural and development projects, are used or manipulated through legal or corrupt processes to serve the interests of dominant economic and political elites. This literature focuses on the dispossession of rights and the disruption of traditional, more inclusive processes, which leads to opportunities for capitalist or political groups to commodify land, heritage, natural resources, and energy, resulting in increased marginalization, inequality, and injustice. The analysis often includes an examination of how knowledge is produced and communicated by experts and elites through the (re)definition of objects, their value, and their classification. Some of this literature emphasizes the need for counter-expertise and inclusive public policies, while others propose mechanisms of “resistance” through civil society mobilization and building alliances. This rich literature aligns with similar international literature 2 on infrastructural studies and urban political ecology.
It is worth noting that this literature, both on Lebanon and beyond, and the way they conceptualize politics and political action are extending beyond academia in this country. These researches and studies have performative power as they greatly influence the representations and language used by a growing civil society movement in Lebanon 3 . Increasingly, local conflicts related to environmental and infrastructural issues are framed as expressions of the failure of the Lebanese political system (Atallah, 2015; Harb, 2018) and as sites of confrontation between the spoiling economic and political communitarian elite and the resistance of grassroots alliances within the civil society movement. These sites become testing grounds for the different concepts, methodologies, and processes described in the literature, with some cases achieving success. However, it is crucial to recognize the limitations and implications of the political ontologies framing this literature. Neither the politics of compromise and negotiation aimed at defusing communitarian geopolitical tensions nor the politics of mobilization to resist elitist spoliation seem capable of effecting change. On the contrary, after 4 years of economic meltdown, state paralysis, and exacerbation of communitarian politics, a general sense of weariness and powerlessness seems to dominate among the civil society movement.
In this article, I argue that a different political ontology based on urban cosmopolitics offers a more nuanced understanding of the relationship between infrastructure, geography, and politics. This perspective opens the door to a different and more empowering type of engagement for actors of change involved in these conflicts and controversies. In the following sections, I will discuss the concepts of assemblage, cosmopolitics, and controversies that frame my analysis and my understanding of key issues such as power, territoriality, and knowledge/expertise. I will then present two case studies and explain why they were selected before discussing how the mobilization of the aforementioned concepts allows for a more nuanced analysis of the relations between infrastructure, politics, and geography. I will conclude by emphasizing the main contributions of this article and what it means for those seeking to bring about change in local politics in Lebanon and beyond.
Framing infrastructure, politics and geography relations
I begin by acknowledging the significant contributions of infrastructure and urban political ecology literature in enhancing our understanding of these intricate relationships. Subsequently, I delve into an alternative approach to urban assemblage analysis that diverges from the prevailing critical political ontology found in the aforementioned literatures, instead drawing on cosmopolitics to offer fresh perspectives on urban politics. Finally, I emphasize the importance of controversies and their analysis as a vital methodological tool for capturing these cosmopolitical dynamics.
Insights from infrastructure studies and urban political ecology
Insights from infrastructure studies and urban political ecology provide valuable perspectives on the political dimension behind the deployment of infrastructures. Historically, infrastructures have been at the center of state and empire formation, showcasing state power to citizens and demonstrating efforts to modernize the country (Larkin, 2013). Colonial states in North America, South Africa, and Palestine have utilized infrastructures to confiscate territory, disrupt ways of life, control movement, and displace populations (LaDuke and Cowen, 2020; Salamanca and Silver, 2022). Furthermore, the control of infrastructure has facilitated the expansion of a new type of capitalism based on “value capture,” which often comes at the expense of the state and communities, resulting in the financialization of crucial development and urbanization structures and exacerbating inequalities and vulnerabilities (Cowen et al., 2018; Graham and Marvin, 2001). Resistance can manifest through the refusal to build certain infrastructures or the establishment of alternative infrastructures (Cowen et al., 2018; Salamanca and Silver, 2022). In situations where public infrastructure coverage is weak, compensating parallel and fragmented infrastructures typically emerge (Coutard and Rutherford, 2015). While innovative infrastructural models may empower local and marginalized communities in these situations, “hybridized” modes 4 of infrastructural delivery tend to dominate (Verdeil and Jaglin, 2023). These situations become sites of tension and “infrastructural discontent,” which can sometimes lead to political mobilization or violence (Arefin, 2019; Verdeil, 2019).
The urban political ecology perspective complements these analyses by offering a different understanding of urban geography, primarily based on the concept of urban metabolism (Heynen, et al., 2006; Loftus, 2012; Swyngedouw and Heynen, 2003; Swyngedouw and Kaika, 2014). This perspective views cities as sites where natural flows of organic and inorganic materials, water, energy, and capital, labor, and technologies converge. Infrastructures play a central role in bringing these flows together and exerting control over them. Rooted in political ecology and political economy, urban political ecology places a strong emphasis on social and environmental justice. It sheds light on various forms of politics where the control of flows is central to power dynamics, inequalities, vulnerabilities, and sometimes physical violence 5 .
Urban assemblages
The concept of assemblage has garnered significant interest in urban literature over the past two decades. Broadly defined, “assemblages are composed of heterogeneous elements that may be human and non-human, organic and inorganic, technical and natural.” (Anderson and McFarlane, 2011). However, it is important to note that assemblages cannot be reduced to the mere aggregation of their constituent parts. Instead, it is primarily the connections and potentialities within assemblages that characterize them (De Landa, 2006). Different authors have drawn on various conceptualizations of assemblage, such as those proposed by Deleuze and Guattari (1987), De Landa (2006), and Latour (2005a). Some have used the term as a “descriptor” to capture the complex sets of highly interconnected relations between dispersed socio-material entities (e.g., Sassen, 2006), while others have seen it as an ethos that attends to the formation of the social and problematizes origins, agency, politics, and ethics (Anderson and McFarlane, 2011). As a result, there is no single understanding or use of the concept of assemblage, leading to ongoing debates in the literature.
Of particular relevance to our argument is the debate that took place in the journal CITY between Farias (2011) and Brenner et al. (2011) regarding the “politics of urban assemblage.” Brenner et al. were highly critical of the approach advocated by Farias and Bender (2009), which drew on a Latourian-based understanding of assemblage to guide the analysis of urban geography and politics. Brenner et al.’s main criticism was that this understanding of assemblage amounted to a “naïve objectivism” and, without a necessary critical perspective (primarily drawing on a neo-Marxian understanding of political economy), the assemblage-based analysis would only reinforce existing urban conditions and thereby justify inequalities and injustices. In a thoughtful response, Farias (2011: 365) stressed that the proposed assemblage analysis was based on a fundamentally different political ontology of immanence, which sharply diverged from that of urban critique at several levels: “the style of cognitive engagement (inquiries or critique), the definitions of the object of study (cities or capitalism), the underlying conceptions of the social (assemblages or structures), and the envisaged political projects (democratization or revolution).” Farias (2011, 366) also emphasized that “inquiry” was a methodological requirement […], stating that “the most common phenomena, configurations, and problems we deal with in urban studies require open and exploratory inquiry since it is practically impossible to know in advance the definitive list of human and non-human actors involved, affected, or concerned, the scope of their networks, or their actual relationships.”
Urban cosmopolitics
After some time, Farias, along with Anders Blok (2016), returned to further develop the intellectual project of capturing the “politics of urban assemblage” by drawing on the notion of cosmopolitics found in the works of Latour (2004, 2005b, 2017) and Stengers (2010). Their main concern of urban politics operates on a different level than that of “critique.” It involves “conceiving the cosmos, this shifting and provisional articulation of human and non-human cohabitation, as the always problematic, unknown, uncertain object around which all of politics, urban and otherwise, turn. […] This brings us thus directly to the notion of urban cosmopolitics as designating exactly those practices, events and processes of searching for and articulating urban common worlds. Put succinctly, cosmopolitics implies a politics of the cosmos, a politics of exploring and provisionally settling what does and does not belong to our common (urbanized) worlds.” (Blok and Farias, 2016: 7-8). These practices, events and processes are based on discursive, affective, material and energetic interactions and attachments (Blok and Farias, 2016: 9).
Materiality, inquiry and cosmopolitics
Urban cosmopolitics entails a shift in our understanding of local politics, moving from a transcendental perspective that identifies these politics as manifestations of overarching cultural and class conflicts, entrenched violence in divided cities, or dominant neoliberal ideologies, to an immanence perspective. From this immanence perspective, local politics are seen as expressions of localized displacements in practices and material and affective attachments to objects and spaces that play a central role in (re)composing urban worlds. This shift does not negate the existence of ideologies and large systems of control and exploitation but highlights that their dominance effect depends on the continuous effort to “blackbox” 6 localized practices and attachments, and that their control is as strong as their ability to stabilize these practices and attachments. This change in perspective brings the issues of materiality and “localized” knowledge to the forefront, as these local practices and attachments are built on specific material interactions and representations of humans, objects, and spaces that compose these shared urban worlds.
Materiality is a crucial aspect of the agency of non-human actors and their relationships with each other and with humans, particularly in the context of infrastructures. The processes of infrastructures require precise, continuous, and stable physical and chemical assembly of organic and inorganic matter and energies. These processes involve collection, channeling, transformation, and subsequent release in new forms, all taking place in close interaction with ecological environments that need to be constantly controlled for efficiency and safety. Technologies play a central role in these processes. Infrastructures’ materials corrode, fracture, and decay over time, and their physical-chemical composition may change, rendering them ineffective, toxic, or collapsing entirely (Barry, 2020). Moreover, the spatiality and processes of infrastructures transform the ecological environments they interact with. Releases from infrastructures, often considered “pollution,” alter the affected areas, and the extraction of materials (e.g., water) can destabilize their source areas. In response to these transformations, humans, animals, plants, and even natural elements such as climate adapt their practices and ways of “being in this world.” New “cosmoses” emerge as a result.
The material transformations of these cosmoses disrupt existing identities and territorialities. Actants within these assemblages start to inquire about the reasons and implications of these changes and explore alternative assemblages of humans, objects, spaces, ideas, practices, and attachments that could (re)establish “acceptable-livable” conditions for those involved. These inquiries take the form of knowledge production and discursive and material experimentation, rather than negotiations. In fact, these moments that define urban cosmopolitics are far from consensus politics. As Blok and Farias (2016: 9) state, “Composing a common world is not a matter of good will, tolerance or respect, as though it would be a clash of cultures within a unified cosmos. Cosmopolitics begins with the contestation of a unified cosmos and the realization that it is necessary to reshuffle and recompose the common world.” (Blok and Farias, 2016: 9)
Controversies
A key concept for capturing and analyzing this unfolding of cosmopolitics and its implications in terms of emerging identities and territorialities is that of controversies. As stressed by Block and Farias (2016: 11-12) “If the study of urban assemblages required one to ‘follow the object’ through a translocal network of actors and sites contributing to enacting a particular version of the city, the study of urban cosmopolitics will often require us to (also) ‘stay put’ at the intersection between networks and regions, assemblages and sites, in order to observe how urban realities are assembled and disassembled, to grasp how sites mediate between multiple urban assemblages, to study co-existence in action. To stay put in the ‘site multiple’. […] The ‘site multiple’ is the moving ground of urban cosmopolitics, not a simple point of collision between conflicting social groups, but a matter of public concern in controversies on urban change and development, enabling mixings, entanglements, new forms of collateral articulation and previously unforeseen conflicts.”
Controversies are a “regime of general enunciation”. They serve as a framework for expressing and exploring potential scenarios, as well as constructing arguments related to them. They also contribute to the formation of identity and the expansion of collective action possibilities (Lascoumes, 2002). Controversies arise within a context of “rupture of order” (Boltanski and Thevenot, 1991) and a “dynamic world in the making” (Callon, 1981). They stem from situations perceived as problematic by certain actors and often evolve independently from established decision-making processes and democratic procedures (Smadja, 2012).
In this perspective, it is crucial to highlight that the temporality and spatiality of controversies extend beyond the mere exchange of discourse among actors. Objects and material goods also play a significant role in shaping controversies. This notion can manifest in various ways. According to Bruno Latour and Michel Callon, objects can challenge the claims made by a protagonist in the controversy—for instance, when an infrastructure fails to perform as expected. Conversely, objects can be seen as “partners” inseparable from the protagonist's arguments, particularly in the case of pilot experiments and demonstrative solutions. Objects can also become entangled in a controversy that transforms into a conflict when opponents divert or modify them to impede their functioning. Timothy Mitchell (2011) refers to this phenomenon as “sabotage,” where trade union movements, for instance, reduce production by slowing down or halting the operation of machinery. Recognizing the significance of materiality in controversies is crucial for understanding their dynamics.
This is particularly evident in the context of environmental and infrastructural controversies. These controversies systematically challenge the inner workings of infrastructural black boxes, questioning their technical aspects, relevance, impacts, and management and maintenance costs, among other factors. Alternative solutions are often put forward, which in turn call into question the knowledge-power-territory relationships that have enabled the emergence and operation of these black boxes.
This understanding of controversies necessitates an analysis that pays close attention to the construction, sharing, and utilization of (localized) knowledge, encompassing practices and emotions through discourses and the mobilization of actors and alliances. It also compels us to consider material considerations such as technicity, spatiality, and territoriality, and how this materiality can be “tamed” by the practices of different actors, influencing and shaping the boundaries of cosmopolitical propositions and potential avenues for change.
Focus on two environmental controversies in Lebanon
From this perspective, I will now delve into two examples of environmental/infrastructural controversies in the secondary cities of Deir Ammar 7 and Saida 8 . Both of these cities are known as strongholds of the Future Movement 9 , with a diverse array of economic actors and a significant presence of local foundations, non-governmental organizations, professional associations, and grassroots activists.
I purposely chose to focus on these secondary cities instead of major controversies centered around Beirut or national infrastructural projects like the Bisri dam. While national actors such as ministries, large developers and contractors, international organizations, communitarian parties, and national civil society movements may be involved in environmental and infrastructural conflicts and controversies in these secondary cities, they are not typically the primary actors on the frontlines. Instead, it is the municipalities, local associations, economic actors, and experts that take center stage. The identities and positions of these actors in these conflicts cannot be reduced to their presumed subordination to the interests of national actors or to dominant discourses of “modernization,” “spoliation,” or “communitarian grievances.” Therefore, it is in these conflicts and controversies that the relationship between local politics, infrastructure, and geography becomes most intriguing to analyze.
I draw upon various research and fieldwork experiences that I engaged in between 2016 and 2021. These endeavors were part of an academic research project focused on municipal governance and solid waste management in Lebanon, as well as a participatory needs assessment study conducted as a consultancy initiative in the Minieh area of North Lebanon. A range of research methods were employed, tailored to capture the complexities of the controversies at hand. Additionally, certain methods originally designed for other purposes yielded valuable insights for our analysis. The employed methods encompassed the following: 1. Review of existing publications and public reports concerning the specific localities and infrastructures under examination. 2. Systematic analysis of six national daily newspapers
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. 3. Examination of local social media accounts to gather additional information and perspectives. 4. Direct observation during site visits to the infrastructures in question. 5. Semi-structured interviews with key stakeholders, involving eight individuals in Saida and six individuals in Deir Ammar. 6. Facilitation of a focus group discussion with six representatives from local institutions and civil society actors in Deir Ammar. 7. Administration of a survey to 458 individuals in the Minieh area, which encompasses Deir Ammar. 8. Utilization of an online crowd-mapping platform to map issues and needs within the same area.
These diverse research methods collectively contributed to a comprehensive understanding of the controversies and their implications.
The controversy surrounding the Deir Ammar power plant and its environmental and health impacts
The Deir Ammar power plant, constructed in response to the severe electricity shortage following the civil war, stands as one of the primary projects undertaken by post-war governments. Operationalized in stages between 1997 and 1999, the plant consists of three production units capable of running on either fuel (diesel) or natural gas, with a maximum capacity of 425 MW (Abi Said, 2005). However, over the past two decades, the plant has been marred by numerous controversies. These controversies encompass various dimensions, including politico-technical issues pertaining to government electricity policies such as privatization, technical choices, the necessity for a second plant, and more (Al-Akhbar, 2009; Al-Samad, 2007). Additional controversies highlight management practices, encompassing concerns of clientelism, corruption, labor wages, and strikes, as well as power outages (Al-Akhbar, 2021a; Al-firzli, 2018; Khalil, 2015a). Furthermore, controversies arise from the plant’s relationship with the surrounding localities, addressing matters such as the absence of preferential treatment regarding electricity supply and employment opportunities, as well as the plant obstructing access to the sea (Al-Akhbar, 2021b; Malas, 2016).
The primary local controversy that captures our attention is the environmental and health impact of the Deir Ammar power plant on the Minieh region. In our survey, we observe that the community considers the environmental issue as the most pressing concern for the region, with air quality and waste management being identified as top priorities. During survey interviews, the local population and actors overwhelmingly attribute the responsibility for air pollution to the Deir Ammar plant.
However, a review of press articles and social media content reveals that the association between the plant and air pollution is not a recent development. As early as 2009, the former mayor of Deir Ammar attributed the decline of hundreds of almond and lemon trees in the region, as well as the disappearance of various plants and seasonal flowers, to the emissions from the plant. He also highlighted an increase in the number of cancer cases among the population (Al-Samad, 2009). In 2018, the Union of Municipalities of Minieh 11 submitted a report to the Governor of North Lebanon, explicitly blaming the plant for its failure to comply with fine particle filtration standards and its contribution to maritime pollution through the use of seawater for cooling, which often resulted in fuel leaks (Al-Ghossein, 2018). On social media platforms and during interviews with local actors and the community, the plant is frequently referred to as the “factory of death.”
It is important to note, however, that the discourse carried by the municipality of Deir Ammar has undergone a significant shift under the new mayor’s 12 leadership. Upon taking office, the mayor made addressing air pollution a top priority. He successfully secured funding for an air quality monitoring facility and appointed a chemistry expert from academia to oversee its operation and analysis of results. The municipality also sought assistance from the Lebanese Institute of Agricultural Research to document the damage to fruit trees in the region and collaborated with the Ministry of Health to investigate cases of cancer. The findings indicated that air pollution in Deir Ammar is not higher than the national average. Daily spikes in pollution were found to be primarily related to rush hour traffic congestion. Additionally, specialists in agricultural pathologies identified an insect infestation that has proliferated in the region, attacking the roots and trunks of fruit trees. As for the health findings, due to the absence of a comprehensive survey, they remain inconclusive. However, there are indications that suggest pollution levels are within the margins of the national average, which itself is on the rise.
Despite these results, the discourse in Minieh has become increasingly polarized. The controversies surrounding the plant have overshadowed any discussions on the validity of the claims. The mayor has been accused of concealing the projects of the Free Patriotic Movement (FPM), which has controlled the Ministry of Energy and Water for 12 years. This accusation comes at a time of increasing collaboration between the FPM and the Future Movement at national level. The plant has now become a focal point for all disputes, symbolizing, according to those interviewed, an oppressive and corrupt central power that installs inadequate infrastructure in remote areas, exploiting them to the detriment of the health and quality of life of local communities and their residents.
Controversies around waste management in Saida
The issue of waste management in Saida has been a prominent topic of discussion in the national press for years. It has been at the center of a series of controversies, mobilizations, and protest movements, which have occasionally turned violent 13 . Waste management in Saida exemplifies the typical case of voluntarist municipal “modernization” seen in many local authorities in Lebanon. Simultaneously, it serves as a telling example of how technocratic projects, conceived and implemented within closed circles of entrepreneurs and political groups, can spiral out of control, resulting in severe environmental and political consequences for municipalities.
The municipal team affiliated with the Future Movement, which has been in power since 2010, campaigned on their ability to address the waste issue (Al-Moustaqbal, 2016). This issue has been an open wound since the civil war (1975-1990) and manifests as a massive dump on the seafront known as “Waste Mountain,” emitting foul odors for hundreds of meters around. The new team promised to eliminate this mountain and implement sustainable waste management practices. To achieve this, they dismantled the mountain and transformed the area into a park on the seafront with the support of Saudi donations. In collaboration with a private investor linked to the same political group, the municipality established a waste treatment plant in the same location. This plant, involving significant investment, incorporated functions for secondary sorting, composting, and energy production from waste. The construction speed, utilization of sophisticated technology, and public-private partnership were presented as steps toward the modernization of the city and public services (Lebanon, 2015; Zeater, 2015). The objective was to demonstrate the municipality's capability and willingness to undertake transformative changes within the city, including urban development projects in the agricultural plain, pedestrianization of the city center, and more (Makhzoumi and Al-Sabbagh, 2018; Moussi, 2015). However, it did not take long for the black box of waste management to reveal cracks, challenging the positive image presented by the municipal team.
Shortly after its opening, the plant closed its doors for 2 years due to the contractor's request to review the contracts. The contractor had initially approached the municipality, promising to build and operate the plant without requesting compensation for the waste received from Saida and its surrounding areas (200 tons/day). Instead, he planned to generate profits by selling recyclables and compost. However, with informal scavengers retrieving a significant portion of recyclables and the poor quality of the compost produced by the plant 14 , the financial viability of the operation was compromised. According to contractual documents, in the event of default by the contractor, the municipality would have to take over the plant's operation. However, due to a lack of expertise and budget, the municipality was incapable of doing so. In 2012, the Future Movement intervened and “imposed” a lump sum payment of US$90 per ton to allow the contractor to continue operating the plant (Baaklini, 2012; The Monthly, 2015). To ensure long-term financial stability, the plant requested an expansion to process more waste and increase profit margins. Consequently, waste from other regions, such as Jezzine and even Beirut, began to be treated in Saida.
A new crisis emerged when an incinerator in Bekaa, which received the final inert waste 15 from the plant, closed its doors in 2015. As a result, waste started to accumulate again in the plant's courtyard. In agreement with the municipality, the plant decided to backfill a nearby sea bay with the inert waste. However, this led to the emission of foul odors from the embankments, triggering significant mobilizations and temporarily halting plant operations (Al-Diyar, 2016; Antonious, 2018; Khalil, 2018; Orient-Le-Jour, 2018; Saleh, 2015). A legal complaint was filed, and the embankments were halted. The plant and the municipality of Saida then sought land from the Union of Municipalities of Saida-Zahrani to dispose of the inert waste, but their efforts were unsuccessful. More recently, the plant faced a social movement by its employees protesting their wages, which had significantly devalued due to the economic crisis.
These events have intertwined and given rise to various controversies. One type of controversy revolves around urban planning and politics. The municipal team's projects were often criticized by opponents as neoliberal and facilitating the capture of strategic urban spaces, such as the agricultural plain, city center, and southern seafront, by capitalist interests. Some argue that waste management and backfilling were tools used to create land for these capitalist interests, similar to what happened during the post-war reconstruction of Beirut's city center. Two other controversies are directly linked to the plant but have distinct concerns. The first controversy pertains to public-private agreements and the social movement of factory employees, with opponents criticizing the municipality's inability to protect the public interest and the most disadvantaged in the face of private partners' economic interests. The second controversy relates to territorial solidarity, with some condemning the transport of waste from other regions, including 200 tons/day from Beirut, while a “new mountain of waste” was being created. Additionally, identifying a landfill for inert waste strained relations within the Union of Municipalities of Saida-Zahrani. Environmental controversies dominated the media landscape, questioning the choice of treatment technologies, inadequate attention to source sorting, and the backfilling of inert waste, thus challenging the perceived benefits of utilizing sophisticated technologies.
A cosmopolitical perspective on territoriality
Mapping assemblages and analyzing controversies offer a distinct perspective to understand the territorial dynamics surrounding infrastructure and shape its politics. The conventional understanding of territoriality is based on practices that establish control over a defined space by a specific group of people, often within the framework of sovereignty. Historically, sovereignty has been closely associated with the State, its ideology, and its governing devices 16 . Consequently, infrastructure can be seen as another governing device that generates power relations of dominance and resistance. However, when examining territoriality through a cosmopolitical lens, the inclusion of non-human actors within the political community introduces new considerations for governance processes and potentially redefines political identities.
It is important to recognize that when discussing infrastructure, territorialities primarily manifest as networked territorialities that entangle spatial scales and connect (or displace) diverse geographies, actors, and objects. For example, in Saida, the operation of the waste plant relied on the interconnectedness of waste metabolism, spanning from its source regions (such as Saida, other municipalities within the Union, Jezzine region, Beirut, etc.) to the disposal sites (such as the Bekaa plant for incinerating inert waste or the nearby bay where temporary backfilling occurred). Similarly, in Deir Ammar, the plant's functionality depended on the supply and transportation of imported fuel and gas, the operation of the national electricity grid, and cooling processes utilizing nearby seawater.
Deir Ammar and Saida serve as examples of how material non-human actants, such as fumes, fine particles, waste compositions, and bacteria, destabilize infrastructural black boxes, resulting in conflicts, controversies, and new cosmopolitics. In Deir Ammar, the chemical composition of the plant's emissions became a major controversy between the local population and the plant. In Saida, the inability to produce quality compost due to waste composition undermined the plant's financial stability, leading to the crisis of the public-private partnership and the plant's closure for 2 years. Additionally, the presence of bacteria on the inert waste after treatment, when mixed with seawater, triggered significant mobilizations, condemning the embankment option and fueling the controversy surrounding the identification of a landfill site for inert waste in the municipalities of the Union.
The controversies in Deir Ammar and Saida illustrate two key ways in which the cosmopolitics of assembling humans and non-humans disrupt our understanding of territorial governance and politics. The first pertains to how the materialities of infrastructure unsettle and bring together regional institution-making territorialities. In both Minieh and Saida, municipal unions were formed with the aim of fostering cooperation between municipalities and addressing common challenges. Waste management and air quality concerns were significant issues that prompted the establishment of the Minieh union of municipalities. In Saida-Zahrani, waste management constituted the primary activity of the union 17 . However, the emergence of the inert waste landfill controversy disrupted the foundational principles of the territorial project upon which the Saida-Zahrani union was built, namely, complementarity and solidarity among its members. It is worth noting that the closure of the Adweh landfill in the Minieh area had a similar effect on the Union of Municipalities in that region. Like many municipal unions in Lebanon, these unions face structural weaknesses such as limited resources and the mayors' primary focus on their local constituencies. These destabilizing events occurred when these unions were perceived as established, stable, and supported by the influential Future Movement political party, which had direct access to state resources 18 .
The second significant aspect from a cosmopolitical perspective is how the material transformation of certain spaces redefines their status and turns them into crucial points of contention in local and even national politics. Spaces that become polluted, such as the embankment bay and the plant in Saida (due to the accumulation of a new “waste mountain” in its courtyard), or the seafront and plant, gain the status of oppressed geographies. At a larger scale, the regions of Saida and Minieh, which are not typically considered marginalized areas, are portrayed as victims of political marginalization at the national level or abandoned to the “greed of capitalist interests.” While the significant impact of geopolitics on the eventual decline of the Future Movement should not be disregarded, these infrastructural crises and controversies have undoubtedly contributed to the erosion of the party's political base, particularly in Minieh and Saida, two of its historical strongholds.
A cosmopolitical perspective on (localized) knowledge
Taking a cosmopolitical perspective on infrastructure controversies highlights the production and integration of knowledge within politics, reshaping the knowledge-power relationship. Infrastructures are the result of engineering, economics, and management sciences, which have historically been the sciences that allowed modern state institutions to concentrate power. The technological, financial, and managerial complexities of electricity and waste infrastructures in Deir Ammar and Saida grant actors like ministries, development agencies, and large technical firms a perceived advantage and legitimacy as they are seen as capable of delivering promises of modernization. However, as Mitchell (2002) argues, techno-politics is a process where intentional human actions are often overrun by unintended consequences; “techno-politics is always a technical body, an alloy that must emerge from a process of manufacture whose ingredients are both human and nonhuman, both intentional and not, and in which the intentional or human is always somewhat overrun by the unintended”.
When materiality destabilizes established assemblages and controversies arise, alternative “truths” can emerge. In the cases of Saida and Deir Ammar, mobilizations began when new waste accumulation and fuel discharges were reported, challenging the aura of superiority associated with “expert” knowledge. The project leaders found themselves engaged in debates and communication with “lay people.”
Controversies stimulate actors not only to arm themselves with information but also to convey messages that support their respective positions. In Deir Ammar, a genuine desire for better information emerged early on. As early as 2009, the president of the Union of Municipalities of Minieh sought donor support to install equipment for monitoring air quality. Local actors in various sectors such as health, agriculture, and fishing also collaborated to make sense of the observed phenomena. The Municipality of Deir Ammar played a significant role by implementing an air quality monitoring system and engaging agriculture and health specialists, marking an important step in this process. Similarly, during a critical phase of the protest in Saida, a coalition of local actors sought the expertise of a chemical specialist to investigate the causes of the foul odors emanating from the inert waste backfill. The subsequent report was instrumental in obtaining a court ruling that prohibited backfilling. This empirical pursuit of “localized” knowledge, aimed at understanding the true nature of events, lies at the heart of what Latour (2018) refers to as “terrestrial” politics and the “sciences of nature-as-process.” By developing participatory knowledge encompassing both human and non-human elements of a territory, it becomes possible to articulate shared narratives of common worlds. Importantly, this approach surpasses the pitfalls of identity politics, the pretense of an infallible “rule of experts,” and the pure cynicism of the “Engineers of Chaos 19 ” (2018).
However, as evident in the case studies, these problematic political approaches criticized by Latour often take center stage. Over time, we encounter what can be described as the “deterritorialization” of controversies—a disconnect between knowledge production and the local social and material realities outlined in this article on one hand, and the arguments presented by the actors engaged in the controversy on the other. Complexity becomes intangible within the discourse of the involved actors. A division deepens, pitting a local and popular “us”—at times communitarian—in opposition to a corrupt and marginalizing “other” political system. In the case of Deir Ammar, it was easier to attribute the region's afflictions to the white smoke emitted by the plant and, by extension, to the corruption of the Lebanese political system, rather than engage with the localized knowledge produced by the municipality and voluntary specialists. Consequently, the locally built knowledge capital is squandered, and the discourse of local protests becomes marginalized as ignorant and “nimbyist” by institutions or instrumentalized by the political maneuvers of actors within the Lebanese political system, fueling conflicts between them.
Conclusion: Reterritorializing controversies
Drawing upon Actor-Network Theory literature and a specific strand of urban assemblage literature, the cosmopolitical ontology offers a fresh and innovative perspective on urban politics. It positions the interactions between human and non-human entities as the central factor shaping politics. In this article, I have adopted this cosmopolitical ontology and proposed to analyze environmental and infrastructural controversies as a crucial methodological approach. This analysis sheds light on how territoriality and knowledge, key elements of urban politics, can be understood from this perspective. By adopting this approach, urban politics becomes even more intricate, revealing nuances that challenge the barriers discouraging citizen engagement and perpetuating political cynicism.
Ultimately, the most oppressive and unjust practices of the State or the market are a result of the assemblages of objects, expert knowledge, and spaces. Notably, expert knowledge is inherently limited, and material objects and spaces are interconnected with their local environments. By capturing these specific interactions through the development of participatory localized knowledge, individuals involved in this knowledge-building process gain the capacity to initiate and navigate controversies through alternative narratives. This destabilizes existing devices and compels them to transform in order to accommodate emerging values that uphold the livability of local environments and foster coexistence. As Latour (2018) asserts, “Politics has always been oriented toward objects, stakes, situations, material entities, bodies, landscapes, places. What is called the values to be defended are always responses to the challenges of a territory that it must be possible to describe” (p. 79).
Turning our attention back to Lebanon and the prospects for change, the ability to launch controversies and challenge exploitative mechanisms is undoubtedly a hallmark of the vitality of civil society in Lebanon. However, by constructing a dichotomy between the political economies of exploitation and the citizen movements that protest against them, and by overlooking the complexity of the social world and the tangible materiality of these controversies, actors aspiring for change often deprive themselves of the necessary resources to bring about meaningful transformation. In fact, the prevailing discourses within civil society movements that strive for change today often assign municipal actors, along with other partisan, religious, clan, and local associative actors, to one side of this binary and reductionist classification. It is therefore urgent to reorient our approach by reconnecting with local realities.
This entails actively engaging in knowledge production about these local worlds, documenting environmental and social realities, and effectively communicating this knowledge to local actors in order to influence their representations. Moreover, it involves active participation in the local political sphere, forging coalitions with local actors, and exerting influence, or even assuming a stake, in municipal governance alongside these actors.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I wish to thank different parties that have contributed in different ways to this article. The article includes materials that have been developed in the context of a research funded by the CEDRE French-Lebanese research funding program, as well as a consultancy commissioned by Mercy Corps Lebanon. The Arab Center for Political Research and Studies (CAREP) funded the publication of an earlier version in French in its paper series. I would also like to warmly thank Hanan Wehbi who as research assistant at the Lebanese University was involved in field works in Saida, as well as Oula Aoun and research assistants Roua AlFares, Pamela Fares and Rita Salemeh at UPLoAD consultancy for their involvement in the Deir Ammar field works. Special thanks go to Eric Verdeil, Isabel Ruck and Leon Telvizian for their reviews and comments on earlier versions of this article. Finally, I would like to extend a big expression of gratitude to the anonymous reviewers of EPC who provided constructive and much-needed comments that allowed the article to move to its present version.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
