Legalize It? Between Policy and Reality in Lebanon’s Hash Trade

Cannabis sativa plant, from which Hashish is made | Picture Credits: Wikimedia Commons

A Law Without Teeth

In Lebanon, the question of legalizing cannabis often resurfaces in the news, and this time, economic incentives are part of the discussions. However, although there is a potential $1 billion revenue increase for the country, illegal cannabis farmers are unsure if legal cannabis will help them or just enrich corrupt politicians.

While politicians debate laws, a new generation of farmers in northern Beqaa continues a decades-old trade. They have made it clear: cannabis cultivation is not a choice, but a matter of survival. In this economically and agriculturally barren, mountainous region, long stigmatized and criminalized, cannabis is one of the only plants capable of surviving the cold and harsh environment.

Despite this, the production scale of cannabis in the country ranks it in the top five global producers of cannabis resin, commonly known as hash or hashish. According to a 2018 report by the international consulting firm McKinsey & Co., the legalization of cannabis for medical and recreational use could increase drug exports from $828 million to $1.79 billion by 2025. Legalization could usher in a new era for the Lebanese agricultural sector and bring in desperately needed funds for the country’s future rebuilding projects, after the recent war that devastated most of the suburbs of Beirut (Dahiye), the country’s south, and the Beqaa Valley.

Today, the issue is again a public conversation, with the newly formed government attempting to pull the matter out of legal limbo. Minister of Agriculture Nizar Hani said that the Cannabis Regulatory Authority will be formalized before the end of July.

Criminalized Farmers and Demonized Addicts

In Lebanon, even possession of a few grams of hashish can carry a five-year prison sentence, and potentially more, given the opacity of the Lebanese judiciary. Many of the farmers who spoke to us are wanted by the state, facing charges ranging from drug use to drug trafficking.

Adding to the troubles, Lebanon’s electoral laws – which deprive individuals convicted of felony crimes and/or crimes related to narcotic manufacturing and distributing – do not apply statutes of limitations on such crimes.

The legal situation has disenfranchised a significant segment of the predominantly Shiite residents of the Beqaa region, unable to exercise civil rights, especially the right to vote. Hence, with the legalization debate comes a parallel demand for general amnesty for minor drug offenses.

In 2012, the clans from the Beqaa Valley rallied together and clashed against the Lebanese Army in an effort to stop the destruction of the cannabis fields. Ali Nasri Chamas – at the time one of the kingpins of the drug trade – wearing a military vest and a Kalashnikov slung over his shoulder, declared on national TV, “We will not allow [the Lebanese Army] to destroy our livelihoods without offering the alternative”.

Another victim of the illegal cannabis trade is the consumers, especially those who have developed addictions. In a study done by the European Monitoring Center for Drugs and Drug Addiction (EMCDDA), 53% of cannabis users reported an increase in hash consumption following the 2020 Beirut Port explosion, a percentage that has likely increased after five years of economic crisis and a war that has terrorized the country.

Whether used for stress relief, medical purposes, or recreation, cannabis users find it difficult to receive proper care, adequate therapy, and rehabilitation, as they are often stigmatized and isolated by the law and the public.

Legalization could free the often-marginalized farmers of rural Beqaa and open paths to better healthcare for those who need it most.

The Hash Economy

Smaller farmers, with land less than five dunams (1.2 acres), often sell unprocessed dried cannabis directly to larger producers and dealers who have the resources and smuggling networks to handle bigger operations.

Selling hash in its ready-to-consume form is the most profitable model – even locally and in small local quantities, one kilogram of processed hash could bring in upwards of one thousand US Dollars – and one dunum produces around 1200 grams or one hoqqa (هقّة) of processed hash. But this carries greater risk and demands more labor.

Syrian migrant workers provided much of the labor required, receiving $1 per hour. But now, after the fall of the Assad Regime in Damascus, many Syrians have returned home, leading to a labor shortage and significant price hikes – particularly for small to mid-scale producers.

A recent 7% tax increase on fuel has further exacerbated the problem for farmers who rely on electric pumps for irrigation, and small cultivators have had to resort to businessmen with more capital who can afford deeper wells and can cover the cost of the fuel and electricity. As a result, many now rely on family labor, with teenagers, aged 14–19, helping during planting and harvesting seasons.

This often presents a dilemma for young people, as they are faced with one of two options: leave their villages to continue their studies in Beirut or stay and help their family with cultivation, the only means of making a living in this part of the country.

Ali*, 27, from Yammuneh, had chosen to abandon his education. He invited me for tea in his modern half-acre cannabis field and told me, “Growing up, I saw my father planting hash and the older kids having fun smoking it. I wanted to become like them.” When I asked him about why he quit college, he replied, “Why would I wait years to finish my studies to find work when I can start making money quickly today?” he asked, joking and a little regretful.  

Ali pointed out half a dozen apple trees in his field and explained that people here used to mainly grow apples, but farmers were forced to abandon the trees for the cannabis plants due to harsher weather and the constantly decreasing prices of local Lebanese apples. He kept those dying trees just because his grandfather planted them some 15 years ago.

Talking to the older generation, they seemed to prefer legalization for an easier lifestyle with no hassle from the government, but my conversations with several young people, ages 19—35, revealed that they do not necessarily agree with the legalization, as they have now found their own more profitable alternative to hash: marijuana.

Because of its potency, marijuana is much more desired, even at a higher cost. Mahdi, 33, an experienced farmer, boasted about the quality of his marijuana and said he could fetch up to $1500 per kilogram – compared to just $300 for hash when sold in bulk.

“Legalization is not to anyone’s benefit. All the money we make is from hash and marijuana made for smoking, not for medical purposes”, he explained.

The Legalization Dilemma: From Illegality to Legal Corruption

The details of legalization and regulation remain vague. Two years after the publication of the 2018 McKinsey and Co. report, the Lebanese Parliament passed a law legalizing the cultivation, production, and sale of cannabis for medicinal purposes.

Since the 2020 initiative, authorities have repeatedly stated that only cannabis containing less than 1% THC can be used. Legalization in this form would require farmers to abandon their current strains in favor of less potent – and far less profitable – varieties.

Some speculate that a system similar to the state-run tobacco monopoly (Régie Libanaise) might be implemented, where only certain individuals would receive licenses to produce and sell cannabis. Given the entrenched corruption within Lebanon’s institutions, such licenses would likely go to those aligned with dominant political parties – namely, Hezbollah and Amal in Shiite-majority regions – reinforcing existing monopolies and leaving the farmers vulnerable to political winds and power struggles.

With recent shifts in regional power, Hezbollah and the toppled Assad regime have lost the ability to maintain control over smuggling and trade routes. But what was once illegal and hidden may soon become legal and institutionalized – though likely still corrupt.

What could have been a stepping stone to emancipate the farmers is, for the foreseeable future, a dream for politicians and an uncertain fate for the people. At the end of the day, the same political forces may continue to dominate the region.

*Names changed or made anonymous for privacy reasons