On 3rd Anniversary, Beirut Port Blast Probe Blocked by Intrigue and Even the Death Toll Is Disputed

 A view shows the partially collapsed grain silos, damaged in the August 4, 2020 Beirut port blast as Lebanon marks third anniversary of the explosion on Friday, in Beirut Lebanon August 2, 2023. (Reuters)
A view shows the partially collapsed grain silos, damaged in the August 4, 2020 Beirut port blast as Lebanon marks third anniversary of the explosion on Friday, in Beirut Lebanon August 2, 2023. (Reuters)
TT
20

On 3rd Anniversary, Beirut Port Blast Probe Blocked by Intrigue and Even the Death Toll Is Disputed

 A view shows the partially collapsed grain silos, damaged in the August 4, 2020 Beirut port blast as Lebanon marks third anniversary of the explosion on Friday, in Beirut Lebanon August 2, 2023. (Reuters)
A view shows the partially collapsed grain silos, damaged in the August 4, 2020 Beirut port blast as Lebanon marks third anniversary of the explosion on Friday, in Beirut Lebanon August 2, 2023. (Reuters)

Three years after Beirut’s massive port blast, attempts to prosecute those responsible are mired in political intrigue, the final death toll remains disputed and many Lebanese have less faith than ever in their disintegrating state institutions.

As the country marks the anniversary Friday, relatives of some of those killed are still struggling to get their loved ones recognized as blast victims, reflecting the ongoing chaos since the Aug. 4, 2020 explosion. The blast killed at least 218 people, according to an Associated Press count, wounded more than 6,000, devastated large swaths of Beirut and caused billions of dollars in damages.

Among those not recognized as a blast victim is a five-month-old boy, Qusai Ramadan, a child of Syrian refugees. His parents say he was killed when the explosion toppled the ceiling and a cupboard in his hospital room, crushing him. The parents have been unable to get the infant added to the official death list, a move that could have made them eligible for future compensation.

They accused the authorities of discriminating against victims who are not Lebanese.

Meanwhile, the blast anniversary brought renewed calls for an international investigation of those responsible, including top officials who allowed hundreds of tons of highly flammable ammonium nitrate, a material used in fertilizers, to be improperly stored for years at a warehouse in the port.

Lebanese and international organizations, survivors and families of victims sent such an appeal to the UN Rights Council, saying that “on third anniversary of the explosion, we are no closer to justice and accountability for the catastrophe.”

Maan, a Lebanese group advocating for victims and survivors, put the death toll at 236, significantly higher than the government's count of 191. The authorities stopped counting the dead a month after the blast, even as some of the severely wounded died in the subsequent period.

Among those listed by Maan Initiative is Qusai, the Syrian infant.

Qusai had been undergoing treatment for a severe liver condition and was transferred to a government hospital near the port about a week before the explosion. Hospital staff said the infant needed a liver transplant and was in critical condition.

On the day of the blast, Qusai’s aunt, Noura Mohammed, was sitting at his bedside while his mother rested at home. The aunt said the staff ordered everyone to evacuate immediately after the explosion, and that she found the infant dead, crushed by fallen debris, when she returned.

Hospital officials said Qusai died an hour after the explosion, with the death certificate listing cardio respiratory arrest as the cause. The family buried him a day later.

“We asked them (the authorities) to register my son among the victims of the blast,” his mother, Sarah Jassem Mohammed, said in a recent interview in a small tent in an orchard in the northern Lebanese village of Markabta where she lives with her husband, two sons and one daughter. “They refused.”

Lebanon is home to more than 1 million Syrian refugees, who make about 20% of the country’s population. A Lebanese group, the Anti-Racism Movement, said that among those killed in the blast were at least 76 non-Lebanese citizens, including 52 Syrians.

Meanwhile, many in Lebanon have been losing faith in the domestic investigation and some have started filing cases abroad against companies suspected of bringing in the ammonium nitrate.

The chemicals had been shipped to Lebanon in 2013. Senior political and security officials knew of their presence and potential danger but did nothing.

Lebanese and non-Lebanese victims alike have seen justice delayed, with the investigation stalled since December 2021. Lebanon’s powerful and corrupt political class has repeatedly intervened in the work of the judiciary.

In January, Lebanon’s top prosecutor Ghassan Oueidat ordered the release of all suspects detained in the investigation.

“The political class have used every tool at their disposal - both legal and extra legal - to undermine, obstruct, and block the domestic investigation into the blast,” said Aya Majzoub, deputy chief for the Mideast and North Africa at the rights group Amnesty International.

Makhoul Mohammed, 40, a Syrian citizen, was lightly injured in the blast in his Beirut apartment while his daughter Sama, who was six at the time, lost her left eye.

Mohammed, who settled in Canada last year, said he plans to sue those responsible for the explosion in a Canadian court.

“The (domestic) investigation will not lead to results as long as this political class is running the country,” he said.



Gaza’s Eid al-Fitr Overshadowed by War, Hardship

Children with Eid cookie trays (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Children with Eid cookie trays (Asharq Al-Awsat)
TT
20

Gaza’s Eid al-Fitr Overshadowed by War, Hardship

Children with Eid cookie trays (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Children with Eid cookie trays (Asharq Al-Awsat)

Residents of Gaza face dire conditions as they celebrate Eid al-Fitr, with Israeli airstrikes continuing and no sign of a ceasefire despite ongoing mediation efforts for a temporary truce during the Eid.

Hopes for a respite have faded as the war drags on, leaving many in Gaza deeply disappointed by the failure of mediators to broker a ceasefire as of the time of writing. The renewed fighting has worsened hardships endured during Ramadan, with residents bracing for further suffering should the conflict persist through Eid.

Ramzi Salah, 39, a resident of Al-Shati refugee camp in western Gaza City, had hoped to spend this Eid free from the relentless Israeli bombardment that has gripped the enclave, spreading fear among civilians.

Instead, he faces a third consecutive holiday—and a second Eid al-Fitr—devoid of joy.

“Our lives have become hell—no peace, no calm, not even the joy of Ramadan or Eid,” Salah told Asharq Al-Awsat.

“What crime have the children committed to be deprived of happiness? Families can't even afford to buy them clothes or gifts.”

Speaking in simple colloquial Arabic, he added: “Most people here are out of work. They can’t even find food, let alone buy new clothes or presents for their kids. Since the war began, we've been living in exceptional circumstances, but children still search for something—anything—to make them happy. And there's nothing.”

Adham Abu Suleiman, a resident of Gaza City’s Al-Nasr neighborhood, said the joy of Eid would always be incomplete as long as Israeli airstrikes continued and casualties mounted. He noted that many had hoped the ceasefire would hold and that war would not return in any form—but those hopes have been shattered.

“How can we celebrate when every family has lost someone dear, whether a loved one or even their home?” he said.

“Holidays and special occasions don’t heal these wounds, but at least spending them without the sound of bombs would make life feel a little better.”

A brief tour of Gaza’s markets revealed a limited supply of old clothes and shoes, with residents making modest purchases. A few sweets were available, but at steep prices.

Shopkeeper Rajab Al-Louh said business had nearly ground to a halt.

“People aren’t really buying—most just come to change their mood, to see what’s available,” he said.

“Sales are almost nonexistent, and we’re barely covering our own expenses,” he added.