Shock turns to anger after Beirut explosion
Incompetence, corruption led to crisis, residents say
BEIRUT — As dazed Lebanese picked through the wreckage inflicted by the massive explosion in their capital city on Wednesday, shock turned to anger at the corruption and incompetence that allowed a massive pile of dangerous chemicals to sit unattended in a warehouse at Beirut’s port for six years.
An estimated 2,750 tons of ammonium nitrate, a fertilizer and bombmaking ingredient, has been identified as the immediate cause of the blast that engulfed the city on Tuesday, killing at least 135 people, injuring more than 3,000 and leaving more than 100 unaccounted for. The material had been stored in a warehouse since being seized by customs authorities in 2014, despite repeated warnings from port officials that it was a risk.
Government investigators still have not pinpointed the origin of the fire or explosion that erupted some 15 to 20 minutes before the ammonium nitrate ignited.
Beirut has witnessed many explosions, including the bombing of the U.S. Marine Barracks in 1983 that killed 241 Marines.
This was by far the biggest, and the shock waves reverberated beyond the immediate tragedy of lost lives and homes. It seemed to encapsulate everything that is wrong with Lebanon at this juncture in its turbulent history: A weak state, inept government, corrupt officials and, many said, the existence of a parallel state run by the powerful Hezbollah movement, as well as other Lebanese factions that used the port for their own smuggling operations.
“People saw firsthand with devastating results what it means to have a failed state,” said Paul Abi Nasr of the Lebanese Association of Industrialists. “It’s not just that the government is corrupt, that the state is weak, that there are weapons outside the hands of the government. We saw these things come together catastrophically.”
Nations around the world rushed to offer assistance, with planes bearing humanitarian aid and medical teams landing or due to arrive from Turkey, Qatar, Kuwait, Egypt, France, Iran and Britain, among others.
President Donald Trump said Thursday that no one could say what caused the blast, but the United States was “looking into it very strongly.” Secretary of State Mike Pompeo offered U.S. help in a telephone call with the country’s Hezbollah-backed prime minister Hassan Diab, with whom Washington has had frosty relations. Pompeo conveyed the United States’ “steadfast commitment to assist the Lebanese people as they cope with the aftermath of this terrifying event,” the State Department said in a statement.
But the offers of aid did little to alleviate the bitterness on the streets of Beirut.
“Even if foreign countries send help, the government will steal it,” said a 23-year-old student who was among hundreds of volunteers who showed up to help clear the streets of debris and broken glass.
In any case, she said, “we will not be able to repair all this.”
Protesters gathered in the central Martyrs Square shortly after midday. Some were in tears.
As the day wore on, the extent of the devastation became clear. People milled around the wrecked streets of some of Beirut’s most vibrant, and wealthiest, neighborhoods in stunned disbelief at the scale of the damage. Volunteers swept away debris and broken glass as people who lived in the stricken area retrieved possessions.
Windows were blown in and doors blown out across a vast swath of the mostly Christian eastern sector of the city. Many of the buildings were rendered uninhabitable. They included some of Beirut’s fanciest new high-rise apartment complexes as well as quaint historic houses.
The governor of Beirut, Marwan Aboud, said more than 300,000 people in the city of 2.2 million had been left homeless. The Lebanese government said it was putting an unspecified number of Beirut port officials under house arrest as it began an investigation into the blast.
The losses were staggering. The Lebanese Red Cross said any additional bodies found in the rubble must be taken to Beirut’s morgues directly, because hospitals could no longer cope.
Aboud put the cost of the damage at as much as $5 billion. Whatever costs are eventually incurred will be added to the estimated $100 billion in banking sector losses that had already wiped out the savings of ordinary people.
The prospect of rebuilding at a time when bank rules prohibit people from withdrawing more than small amounts from their accounts was daunting to many of those surveying wrecked homes and businesses.
“For me this is the end,” said Nabil Allam, the financial manager of the badly damaged Rosary Sisters Hospital, which evacuated patients to other hospitals that were already overwhelmed.
“Do you think the politicians can solve this?” he asked. “This is bigger than any of them.”