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)
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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.



As Israel Advances in Gaza, Many Exhausted Families Flee Again 

Displaced Palestinians arrive in Khan Younis, Gaza, on Sunday, March 23, 2025. (AP)
Displaced Palestinians arrive in Khan Younis, Gaza, on Sunday, March 23, 2025. (AP)
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As Israel Advances in Gaza, Many Exhausted Families Flee Again 

Displaced Palestinians arrive in Khan Younis, Gaza, on Sunday, March 23, 2025. (AP)
Displaced Palestinians arrive in Khan Younis, Gaza, on Sunday, March 23, 2025. (AP)

As Israel orders wide new evacuations across the Gaza Strip, Palestinians say they are crushed by exhaustion and hopelessness at the prospect of fleeing once again. Many are packing a few belongings and trudging off in search of new shelters. Some say they just can’t bear to move.

When ordered out of Jabaliya in northern Gaza, Ihab Suliman and his family could only grab some food and blankets before making their way south March 19. It was their eighth time fleeing over the past 18 months of war.

"There is no longer any taste to life," said Suliman, a former university professor. "Life and death have become one and the same for us."

Suliman is among the tens of thousands of Palestinians who have fled temporary shelters since Israel shattered a 2-month-old ceasefire on March 18 with renewed bombardment and ground assaults.

Daunted by the notion of starting over, some Palestinians are ignoring the latest evacuation orders — even if it means risking their lives.

"After one year and a half of war that has exhausted everyone, children and their parents, too, are just worn out physically and mentally," said Rosalia Bollen, UNICEF’s communication specialist.

For the past month, Israel has blocked all food, fuel and supplies from entering Gaza, and aid groups say there are no more tents or other shelter supplies to help the newly displaced. On Tuesday, the World Food Program shut down all its bakeries in Gaza, on which hundreds of thousands rely for bread, because it had run out of flour.

Many are fleeing with almost no belongings

Israel’s evacuation orders now cover large swaths of the Gaza Strip, including many areas of Gaza City and towns in the north, parts of the southern city of Khan Younis, and almost the entire southern city of Rafah and its surroundings.

As of March 23, more than 140,000 people had been displaced again since the end of the ceasefire, according to the latest UN estimate — and tens of thousands more are estimated to have fled under evacuation orders over the past week.

Every time families have moved during the war, they have had to leave behind belongings and start nearly from scratch, finding food, water and shelter. Now, with no fuel entering, transportation is even more difficult, so many are fleeing with almost nothing.

"With each displacement, we’re tortured a thousand times," Suliman said. He and his family found an apartment to rent in the central town of Deir al-Balah. He said they’re struggling, with no electricity and little aid. They must walk long distances to find water.

Fleeing from Rafah on Monday, Hanadi Dahoud said she is struggling to find essentials.

"Where do we go?" she said. "We just want to live. We are tired. There are long queues waiting for bread and charity kitchens."

During the two-month ceasefire that began in mid-January, hundreds of thousands of Palestinians flowed back to their neighborhoods. Even if their homes were destroyed, they wanted to be near them — sometimes setting up tents on or next to the rubble.

They had hoped it would be the end of their displacement in a war that has driven nearly the entire population of some 2.3 million from their homes.

The war in Gaza began with Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, attack on southern Israel. Since then, Israel's retaliatory offensive has left hundreds of thousands of Palestinians in squalid, crowded tent camps or schools-turned-shelters. Most have had to move multiple times to escape fighting and bombardment.

Shelter is limited

Some shelters are so crowded they have had to turn families away, said Shaina Low, communications adviser at the Norwegian Refugee Council.

Many families are streaming back to Muwasi, a barren coastal stretch of southern Gaza where, before the ceasefire, hundreds of thousands had been packed into tent cities. During the ceasefire, the camps thinned out as people returned to their neighborhoods. Those returning are finding that tents are scarce; aid groups say they have none to give out because of Israel’s blockade.

More than a million people urgently need tents, while thousands of others require plastic sheets and ropes to strengthen fragile makeshift shelters, Gavin Kelleher, NRC’s humanitarian access manager in Gaza, said at a recent media briefing.

For now, people are cramming into tents or moving into destroyed buildings that are in danger of collapse — trying "to put absolutely anything between themselves and the sky at night," Kelleher said.

Relocating and reinstalling health and nutrition facilities amid declining aid supplies has been "absolutely draining" for families and humanitarian workers, UNICEF's Bollen said.

"Our job would be much easier if we had access to our supplies and if we didn’t have to fear for our own lives at every moment," she said.

Khaled Abu Tair led a donkey cart with some bread and blankets as he and his family fled Khan Younis. He said they were heading "God knows where," and would have to set up on the street a makeshift shelter out of sheets.

"We do not have a place, there are no tents, no places to live or shelter, or anything," he said.

Some can’t bear to move

When orders came to evacuate Gaza City’s Tel Hawa district, Sara Hegy and her mother decided to stay. Their original home in the nearby district of Zaytoun is too destroyed to be livable, and Hegy said she was in despair at the thought of starting over again.

"I had a breakdown the day the war resumed. I didn’t leave the house," said Hegy, who had started an online tutoring job a few days before Israel relaunched its assault.

Others dread the evacuation orders that might come.

Noor Abu Mariam said she and her brother and parents have already been displaced 11 times over the course of the war, moving through tent camps and houses around the south, each time starting over in the search for shelter, food and supplies.

Now back in Gaza City, she can’t do it again, she said.

"I refuse to leave the house no matter the circumstances because I am not psychologically prepared to relive those difficult days I lived in the south," she said.