Women Lack Basics in Lebanon's Crowded Prisons

Nour said she and her daughter shared a cell at the Baabda women's prison with another 23 people, including two other babies. AFP
Nour said she and her daughter shared a cell at the Baabda women's prison with another 23 people, including two other babies. AFP
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Women Lack Basics in Lebanon's Crowded Prisons

Nour said she and her daughter shared a cell at the Baabda women's prison with another 23 people, including two other babies. AFP
Nour said she and her daughter shared a cell at the Baabda women's prison with another 23 people, including two other babies. AFP

Nour is raising her four-month-old daughter in Lebanon's most overpopulated women's prison, struggling to get formula and nappies for her baby as the country's economy lies in tatters.

"I don't have enough milk to breastfeed, and baby formula isn't readily available," said the 25-year-old, who was detained eight months ago on drug-related accusations.

"Sometimes my daughter doesn't have formula for three days," she added, as green-eyed Amar wriggled on her lap.

Lebanese authorities have long struggled to care for the more than 8,000 people stuck in the country's jails.

But three years of an unprecedented economic crisis mean even basics like medicines are lacking, while cash-strapped families struggle to support their jailed relatives.

Essentials like baby formula have become luxuries for many Lebanese, as the financial collapse -- dubbed by the World Bank as one of the worst in recent world history -- has pushed most of the population into poverty.

A months-long judges' strike has exacerbated the situation in prisons, contributing to overcrowding.

Nour said she and her daughter shared a cell at the Baabda women's prison with another 23 people, including two other babies.

She said she sometimes kept Amar in the same nappy overnight while waiting for her parents to bring fresh supplies, but said even they can "barely help with one percent of my baby's needs".

In a hushed voice, she said the shower water gave her and her daughter rashes, but that Amar had never been examined by a prison doctor.

"We all make mistakes, but the punishment we get here is double," Nour said.

Inmates at the prison, located outside the capital Beirut, spoke to AFP in the presence of the prison director and declined to provide their surnames.

Around them, in the facility's breakroom, paint peeled off the walls and water dripped from the ceiling.

Rampant inflation and higher fuel prices have also prevented families from visiting their jailed relatives regularly.

Bushra, another inmate, said she had not seen her teenage daughter for nine months because her family could not afford transportation.

She was detained earlier this year on slander allegations and has been in jail ever since.

"I miss my daughter," said the tattooed 28-year-old, as her eyes welled up with tears.

"So many mothers here cannot even see their children," she added.

Interior Minister Bassam Mawlawi said in September that Lebanon's economic crisis had "multiplied the suffering of inmates".

His ministry has appealed for more international support for the prison system, citing overcrowding, poor maintenance and shortages of food and medications.

Inmate Tatiana, 32, expressed helplessness at her and her family's situation. She said her mother had slipped into poverty and was living on just $1 a day.

Prisoners "need basics: shampoo, deodorant, clothes," said Tatiana, who has been waiting for a court hearing for nearly three years.

"But our parents cannot afford them for themselves, how can they buy those things for us?" she added, dark circles lining her eyes.

Tatiana is among the nearly 80 percent of Lebanon's prison population languishing in pre-trial detention, according to interior ministry figures. Prison occupancy stands at 323 percent nationwide.

The country's already slow judiciary has been paralyzed since August, when judges started an open-ended strike to demand better wages.

Inmates told AFP they slept on dirty mattresses strewn on the floor in a one-toilet cell shared between more than 20 people.

Baabda women's prison director Nancy Ibrahim said more than 105 detainees were crammed into the jail's five cells, compared to around 80 before the economic collapse.

Non-governmental organizations help with everything from food to "medications, vaccinations for the children" and maintenance, she told AFP from her office at the facility.

Rana Younes, 25, a social worker at Dar Al Amal, said her organization helps women prisoners get the basics including sanitary pads, and also provides legal assistance and even funding for cancer treatments.

She said prisoners sometimes missed court hearings because authorities failed to secure fuel or transportation for them.

Dar Al Amal has spent thousands of dollars on repairs for worn-out pipes and trucked-in water supplies at the Baabda prison, said organization director Hoda Kara.

"Parents can no longer help, the state is absent, so we try to fill the gap," she said.



Amid Ethical Concerns, Israel’s Unmanned Bulldozers Breaking Ground in Gaza War

An unmanned D9 bulldozer digs up a field during a demonstration to the press at the Israel Aerospace Industries (IAI) quarters near Tel Aviv on March 26, 2025. (AFP)
An unmanned D9 bulldozer digs up a field during a demonstration to the press at the Israel Aerospace Industries (IAI) quarters near Tel Aviv on March 26, 2025. (AFP)
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Amid Ethical Concerns, Israel’s Unmanned Bulldozers Breaking Ground in Gaza War

An unmanned D9 bulldozer digs up a field during a demonstration to the press at the Israel Aerospace Industries (IAI) quarters near Tel Aviv on March 26, 2025. (AFP)
An unmanned D9 bulldozer digs up a field during a demonstration to the press at the Israel Aerospace Industries (IAI) quarters near Tel Aviv on March 26, 2025. (AFP)

At first glance, there is nothing unusual about the bulky bulldozer turning up soil at a testing site in central Israel, but as it pulled closer it became clear: the driver's cabin is eerily empty.

This is the Robdozer, a fortified engineering vehicle manned remotely, and in this case operated from a military expo halfway across the globe in Alabama.

Army engineers and military experts say that the Robdozer -- the robotic version of Caterpillar's D9 bulldozer -- is the future of automated combat.

The Israeli military has used D9 for years to carry out frontline tasks like trowelling roads for advancing troops, removing rubble and flattening terrain.

But since war in Gaza broke out in October 2023 and later in Lebanon, the Israeli military has increasingly deployed this robotic version in a bid to enhance its field operations and reduce the risks to its troops.

"The idea is to eliminate the person from the cockpit of the dozer," said Rani, whose team at the state-owned Israel Aerospace Industries developed the Robdozer.

During the Gaza war, the military has increasingly opted for the unmanned version, which can carry out a full range of tasks "even better than a human", said Rani, using his first name only for security reasons.

While such vehicles and other systems are currently operated by humans, future versions could be autonomous, raising ethical and legal concerns over the unchartered future of warfare being shaped by the Israeli military in the Gaza war.

Israel's increasing use of advanced technology on the battlefield, from air defense systems to a broad range of AI-driven intelligence tools, has been well-documented but also criticized for inaccuracies, lack of human oversight and potential violations of international law.

Analysts say the growing Israeli deployment of the Robdozer reflects broader global trends towards automation in heavy combat vehicles, like remote-controlled personnel carriers that operate much like drones.

An Israeli military official, who requested anonymity to discuss sensitive matters, told AFP that the army has been using "robotic tools for over a decade, but in very small numbers. Now it is being used in large-scale warfare".

Troops can now operate machinery without having to enter enemy territory, said the official.

Andrew Fox, a retired British army major and a research fellow at the London-based Henry Jackson Society, said the Israeli military was likely the first force to use remote-controlled combat machinery in an active war zone.

"It's a really big development" that is "changing the paradigm" of warfare, carrying out tasks as effectively but at a far reduced risk to personnel, he said.

But beyond ethical and legal drawbacks to such advanced technology, there is also the need for an overriding human presence to make decisions particularly in unusual situations.

Hamas's October 7, 2023 attack on Israel that sparked the Gaza war was a disastrous example for that, when Palestinian gunmen breached the high-security border, said Tal Mimran of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.

"I think that October 7 showed us that you can build a wall that may cost $1 billion, but if you do not patrol the border, then someone will infiltrate your country," said Mimran, a lecturer and researcher of international law who has been closely following the Israeli military's technological developments.

"We must take note of the opportunities and of the risks of technology," he said.

"This is the era in which artificial intelligence is exploding into our lives, and it is only natural that it will also have a manifestation in the security field."