Hope for Justice in 2020 Beirut Port Explosion Fades

Paul Naggear, stands next a portrait of his daughter Alexandra, who was killed in 2020 massive blast at Beirut's seaport, during an interview in the town of Beit Mery in the hills east of Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, July 12, 2022. (AP Photo/Hassan Ammar)
Paul Naggear, stands next a portrait of his daughter Alexandra, who was killed in 2020 massive blast at Beirut's seaport, during an interview in the town of Beit Mery in the hills east of Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, July 12, 2022. (AP Photo/Hassan Ammar)
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Hope for Justice in 2020 Beirut Port Explosion Fades

Paul Naggear, stands next a portrait of his daughter Alexandra, who was killed in 2020 massive blast at Beirut's seaport, during an interview in the town of Beit Mery in the hills east of Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, July 12, 2022. (AP Photo/Hassan Ammar)
Paul Naggear, stands next a portrait of his daughter Alexandra, who was killed in 2020 massive blast at Beirut's seaport, during an interview in the town of Beit Mery in the hills east of Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, July 12, 2022. (AP Photo/Hassan Ammar)

It’s been two years since his 3-year-old daughter, Alexandra, was killed in a massive explosion at Beirut’s port — and Paul Naggear has lost hope that outrage over the disaster will bring justice and force change in Lebanon.

The investigation into one of the world's biggest non-nuclear explosions has been blocked for months by Lebanon’s political powers. Many blame the Lebanese government's longtime corruption and mismanagement for the tragedy, but the elite's decades-old lock on power has ensured they are untouchable.
In fact, some of those charged in the probe were re-elected to parliament earlier this year.

Even as the wrecked silos at the port have been burning for weeks — a fire ignited by the fermenting grains still inside them — authorities seemed to have given up on trying to put out the blaze. A section of the silos collapsed Sunday in a huge cloud of dust.

“It has been two years and nothing’s happened,” Naggear, said of the Aug. 4, 2020 disaster, when hundreds of tons of highly explosive ammonium nitrate, a material used in fertilizers, detonated at the port. "It’s as if my daughter was just hit by a car.”

The blast caused a pressure wave that shattered everything in its path across the capital.

Naggear, his wife, Tracy Awad, and little Alexandra were in their apartment overlooking the port when the massive force sent glass, furniture and other debris flying. Naggear and his wife suffered cuts and bruises. Alexandra, or Lexou, as they called her, was severely injured and died in the hospital.

She was the second-youngest victim of the explosion, which killed more than 215 people and injured more than 6,000.

It later emerged that the ammonium nitrate had been shipped to Lebanon in 2013 and stored improperly at a port warehouse ever since. Senior political and security officials knew of its presence but did nothing.

Lebanon’s factional political leaders, who have divvied up power among themselves for decades, closed ranks to thwart any accountability.

Tarek Bitar, the judge leading the investigation, charged four former senior government officials with intentional killing and negligence that led to the deaths of dozens of people. He also charged several top security officials in the case.

But his work has been blocked for eight months pending a Court of Cassation ruling after three former Cabinet ministers filed legal challenges. The court can’t rule until a number of vacancies caused by judges retiring are filled. The appointments, signed by the justice minister, are still awaiting approval from the finance minister, an ally of Parliament Speaker Nabih Berri.

Judicial officials with knowledge of Bitar’s investigation told The Associated Press it was in advanced stages of answering key questions — including who owned the nitrates, how they entered the port and how the explosion happened. They spoke on condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to speak publicly about the investigation.

Bitar is the second judge to take the case. The first judge was forced out after complaints were raised against him by two Cabinet ministers, and if the same happens to Bitar it would likely be the final blow to the investigation.

The lack of justice compounds the pain of relatives and friends of blast victims. They feel let down and abandoned, not only by the government but by public apathy as the months and years have dragged on.

Initially after the explosion, there were large protests and sit-ins demanding justice. It raised hopes that Lebanon’s politicians might be held accountable.

But public fervor waned as Lebanese became absorbed with surviving the country’s economic collapse. Also, deadly gun battles erupted last year between Hezbollah supporters protesting against Bitar and members of a Christian faction, raising fears that pressing the investigation could push Lebanon into factional conflict.

Now only a handful of people show up at protests and sit-ins organized by relatives of the victims.

Families remain wracked by grief.

For Muhieddine Ladkani, whose father, Mohammed, was killed, time has stood still.

When they first heard explosions coming from the port, his father took the family into their apartment's entrance hall, believing it would be safe since there were no windows. But the blast tore the front door off its hinges and sent a cupboard slamming into the elder Ladkani. He was in a coma for weeks with a brain hemorrhage. He died 31 days later.

Ladkani, a 29-year-old law student, said his family still can’t talk about that day.

“We still cannot remember, and we cannot gather as a family,” he said. “My brothers and uncles have my father’s photos as their profile photo. I don’t. Whenever I remember my father, I collapse.”

“It is something that I don’t want to believe. I can’t live with it,” Ladkani said. Those who voted for the politicians charged in the disaster are also responsible for his father's death, he added.

“The ink on the fingers of the voters who voted for them is not ink but the blood of the victims,” Ladkani said.

One of the charged and reelected politicians, former public works minister Ghazi Zeiter, told the AP he had the right to run for parliament again because there is no court verdict against him. He said Bitar has no right to charge him because legislators and ministers have a special court where they are usually tried.

Amid the deadlock, some victims' families are turning to courts outside Lebanon.

In mid-July, families filed a $250 million lawsuit against an American-Norwegian firm, TGS, suspected of involvement in bringing the explosive material to the port. TGS has denied any wrongdoing.

Naggear said his family, two others and the Bar Association have filed a lawsuit in Britain against the London-registered chemical trading company, Savaro Ltd., which investigative journalists in Lebanon say chartered the shipment, intending to take the nitrates from Georgia to an explosives firm in Mozambique.

Naggear said he is losing hope.

He and his wife, who is a dual Lebanese-Canadian citizen, had thought about leaving Lebanon after the blast. But the large public protests in the immediate aftermath gave them hope that change was possible.

But after this year's parliamentary election results, they are again seriously considering leaving.

Still, they vow to continue working for justice. At a recent sit-in, they showed up with their 4-month-old baby, Axel.

“They are trying to make us forget ... but we will not stop, for (Alexandra’s) sake until we reach the truth and justice,” Naggear said.

The Naggears have repaired their apartment, but they haven’t stayed there since Axel’s birth, fearing it was still not safe.

The fire burning in the ruins of the grain silos only feeds the sense of danger. A northern section of the structure collapsed on Sunday, and experts say more parts are at risk of falling. At night, orange flames can be seen licking at the base of the northern silo, glowing eerily in the darkness.



‘Blink of an Eye’: Survivor Tells of Bangkok Skyscraper Collapse Horror

 Rescuers spray water to reduce dust in Bangkok, Thailand, Saturday, March 29, 2025, while searching for victims at the site of a high-rise building under construction that collapsed after Friday's earthquake. (AP)
Rescuers spray water to reduce dust in Bangkok, Thailand, Saturday, March 29, 2025, while searching for victims at the site of a high-rise building under construction that collapsed after Friday's earthquake. (AP)
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‘Blink of an Eye’: Survivor Tells of Bangkok Skyscraper Collapse Horror

 Rescuers spray water to reduce dust in Bangkok, Thailand, Saturday, March 29, 2025, while searching for victims at the site of a high-rise building under construction that collapsed after Friday's earthquake. (AP)
Rescuers spray water to reduce dust in Bangkok, Thailand, Saturday, March 29, 2025, while searching for victims at the site of a high-rise building under construction that collapsed after Friday's earthquake. (AP)

A construction worker told Saturday how he cheated death when a Bangkok skyscraper collapsed "in the blink of an eye" after a massive earthquake hit Myanmar and Thailand.

Tearful family members gathered at the remains of the 30-storey building, which crumbled to rubble in just seconds on Friday, clinging to shreds of hope that their loved ones who were working when it fell might be found alive.

The tower was being built to house government offices when the quake struck, and construction worker Khin Aung told AFP how the building collapsed just after his brother had entered to start his shift.

"When my shift ended around 1:00 pm I went outside to get water and I saw my younger brother before I went out," he told AFP.

Tremors from the 7.7-magnitude quake centered in neighboring Myanmar -- where the ruling junta said at least 694 people had died -- hit Bangkok around 1:20 pm (0620 GMT), shaking the building.

"When I went outside, I saw dust everywhere and I just ran to escape from the collapsing building," Khin Aung said.

"I video-called my brother and friends but only one picked up the phone. But I can't see his face and I heard he was running.

"At that point the whole building was shaking but while I was on a call with him, I lost the call and the building collapsed."

Authorities say up to 100 workers may be trapped in the mass of rubble and twisted metal that is all that remains of the tower. At least five are confirmed dead but the toll is almost certain to rise.

"I can't describe how I feel -- it happened in the blink of an eye," said Khin Aung.

"All my friends and my brother were in the building when it collapsed. I don't have any words to say."

- Desperate relatives -

Bangkok's skyline is ever-changing, with buildings constantly torn down and shiny new skyscrapers thrown up.

The ceaseless reinvention is powered by an army of laborers, a huge proportion of whom are drawn from Myanmar by the prospect of regular work, a peaceful country and better wages than at home.

Many relatives of workers from Myanmar gathered at the site on Saturday hoping for news of the missing.

Khin Aung and his brother -- married with two children -- have been working in Bangkok for six months.

"I heard they sent 20 workers to hospital, but I don't know who are they and my friends and brother are among them," he said.

"I hope my brother and friends are in hospital. If they are at the hospital, I have hope. If they are under this building, there is no hope for them to survive."

Thai woman Chanpen Kaewnoi, 39, waited anxiously for news of her mother and sister, who were in the building when it went down.

"My colleague called and said she couldn't find my mum or my sister. I thought mum might have slipped and maybe my sister stayed to help her," she told AFP.

"I want to see them, I hope I can find them. I hope they will not be lost. I still have hope, 50 percent."

As distraught families waited for news, rescue workers pressed on with the delicate task of searching the ruins without triggering further collapses.