Tripoli

Tripoli lies on a rocky promontory eighty-one kilometres north of Beirut, gazing across the eastern Mediterranean. As Lebanon’s second-largest city and the capital of its North Governorate, it marks the northernmost seaport of the country. Over centuries, it has served as a crossroads of empires and faiths, its urban fabric bearing witness to Phoenician mariners, Greek settlers, Crusader knights, Mamluk governors and Ottoman administrators. In successive layers, each civilisation left stone and story intertwined, shaping both its skyline and social contours.

The earliest recorded name, Athar, appears in Phoenician annals of the 14th century BC. Greek colonists who followed renamed it Tripolis—literally “three cities”—and from that came the modern Arabic Ṭarābulus. Within the Arab world, it earned the qualifier ash-Shām, “of the Levant,” to distinguish it from its Libyan namesake. Under Crusader rule, Raymond de Saint-Gilles erected the first fortress in 1102, christening it Mont Pèlerin. The citadel burned in 1289 and rose again under Emir Essendemir Kurgi in 1307–08. Its massive gateway, inscribed by Süleyman the Magnificent, attests to later Ottoman restoration; a further campaign in the early 19th century under Governor Mustafa Agha Barbar reinforced its ramparts and chambers.

Tripoli’s Old City retains the footprint of its Mamluk renovators. Streets narrow to discourage siege engines; vaulted bridges span high-walled alleys; concealed loopholes once sheltered sentries. Around winding lanes stand markets and caravanserais, the khans that once hosted merchants bound for Aleppo or Damascus. Within these lanes, craftsmen continue age-old trades—soap-makers pressing olive oil into hard loaves; coppersmiths hammering trays; carpenters carving inlaid boxes. A domestic hum coexists with the measured calls to prayer and the bells of Maronite and Orthodox churches.

Religious architecture of the Mamluk era also endures. The Mansouri Great Mosque, a series of urban hammams, and the nearby Madrassa al-Uthmaniyya illustrate the period’s interplay of function and ornament. Five bathhouses survive: Abed, Izz El-Din, Hajeb, Jadid and An-Nouri, the last founded in 1333 by governor Nur El-Din near the Grand Mosque. When Ibn Battutah visited in 1355, he noted “fine baths” amid water-channeled gardens—a description that still resonates within these cool, domed chambers.

A short walk from the Old City lies Al-Tell square and its Clock Tower, erected in 1906 to mark the thirtieth anniversary of Sultan Abdul Hamid II’s reign. Gifted by the Ottoman court, its four faces still keep time after a 1992 renovation restored its mechanisms. Nearby, the Citadel stands sentinel, its sandstone walls touched by four distinct eras.

Offshore, a quartet of islets—the Palm Islands—forms a nature reserve. The largest, known locally as Rabbits’ Island, spans roughly twenty hectares. Introduced European rabbits once grazed its sands under the French Mandate; today it offers sanctuary to endangered loggerhead turtles, rare monk seals and migratory birds. Excavations in 1973 revealed Crusader-period dwellings, linking shoreline greenery to centuries-old human presence. UNESCO declared the islands protected in 1992, forbidding fires or camping to preserve both wildlife and heritage.

Beyond Rabbits Island lie the Bakar Islands, once leased as a shipyard under Ottoman rule to Adel and Khiereddine Abdulwahab, and still serving maritime contractors. To the west, Ramkin Island presents a broad, sandy beach backed by sheer limestone cliffs. Together, these isles frame Tripoli’s port district, El Mina, which merges with the city proper to form a contiguous coastal conurbation.

The city’s demographic composition reflects Lebanon’s wider mosaic. Registered voters numbered over 92 percent Muslim in 2014, of whom some 82 percent identified as Sunni and 8.7 percent as Alawite; Christians comprised just over 7 percent. Today, Christians—Greek Orthodox, Maronite, Melkite, Syriac and Armenian—amount to under 5 percent of the urban population. Sunni neighbourhoods such as Bab al-Tabbaneh lie perilously close to Alawite-majority Jabal Mohsen, and tensions have flared repeatedly since 2011 as conflicts in neighbouring Syria drew mirrored allegiances. These confrontations have undercut Tripoli’s stability, compounding economic hardship in a city long divided between wealthier traders and disadvantaged quarters.

Tripoli’s climate moderates extremes. Winter rains fall between December and March, while summers remain arid. The nearby sea current tempers winter lows by roughly ten degrees Celsius compared to inland valleys; in summer, coastal breezes lower temperatures by about seven degrees. Snowfall may grace the city once per decade at most, yet winter hailstorms occur with some regularity.

Within the city, religious diversity finds architectural expression. Beyond the Mansouri Mosque and medieval hammams lie two dozen mosques of varied vintage: Mamluk edifices such as Taynal Mosque, Arghoun Shah and Al-Attar; Ottoman foundations including Abou Bakr Al-Siddeeq and Al-Rahma; and the imposing Omar Ibn El-Khattab on the old city’s edge. Christian landmarks include the Saint Michael Cathedral (Maronite), St Elie (Greek Orthodox), St Ephrem (Syriac Orthodox), St Francis (Roman Catholic), St Georges (Melkite), Saint Hoke­kalo­usd (Armenian Orthodox), Our Lady of the Annunciation (Melkite) and Tripoli’s National Evangelical Church.

A modern intervention, the Rachid Karami International Fairground, stands on the city’s southern approach. Conceived in 1962 by Brazilian architect Oscar Niemeyer for a world’s fair, construction ceased in 1975 with the onset of Lebanon’s civil war. Fifteen skeletal, incomplete structures remain across some 75 hectares, their curved roofs and pilotis hinting at a utopian vision frozen in time. Administrative inertia and episodic unrest have left the site largely unused, flanked by a hotel that crumbles in neglect. In 2023, UNESCO inscribed the complex on both the World Heritage List and the List of World Heritage in Danger, acknowledging its cultural value and precarious state.

Transportation to Tripoli follows traditional routes. From Beirut’s Charles Helou station, visitors may board a bus labelled in Arabic—often called the “Trablos Express”—or share a taxi, whose fare equals the cost for four occupants. Minibuses run from Cola and Daoura stations; within central Tripoli, shared service taxis charge 1,000 LL per passenger, rising to 2,000 LL for longer routes. The port handles chiefly freight, yet Med Star operates Lebanon’s sole scheduled passenger ferry.

Tripoli’s Old City market remains a focal point for Lebanon’s culinary and artisanal heritage. On Sunday mornings, groups from Beirut converge on Hallab’s pastry shops, drawn by sticky maamoul and knafeh. Though many vendors trade on the Hallab name, Rafaat Hallab (est. 1881) and Abdel Rahman Al Hallab preserve an unbroken lineage to the 19th-century confectioner who first refined Tripolitan sweets.

In a landscape marked by economic disparity and sporadic unrest, Tripoli endures as a repository of architectural layers and human endeavour. Its narrow streets and hidden courtyards show the imprint of seafarers, merchants and rulers who shaped a city that remains at once resilient and unsettled. Here, ancient stones and modern ruins evoke a continuous conversation between past and present, inviting those who linger to uncover stories inscribed in every arch and alley.