Memories of the Beirut explosion, August 4 2020

I am publishing this piece in an attempt to preserve one account of the events of August 4 2020 in Beirut, the Lebanese capital. That evening, one of the largest non-nuclear explosions in history destroyed swathes of the city. The blast wasn’t caused by a missile strike, but by thousands of tons of highly explosive ammonium nitrate left abandoned at the city’s seaport. Senior Lebanese officials were aware of the stockpile, but did little to dispose of it before it was too late.

The motivation to publish this account is driven in large part by a frantic urge not to forget what happened. If I have not done so already, I hope this piece will add to the writings of other witnesses who have done better than me in writing down their memories sooner.

Because, as it is not always easy to remember, it is very dangerous to forget.*

At the end of the article, I have linked to some Lebanese NGOs and charities helping victims of the explosion, which still need funding and support.

***

It is just after 6pm on August 4, and Beirut is hot. The city’s summer humidity is thumping against the walls of the apartment. The double-fronted brown wooden door is propped open, to allow what little breeze there is to enter the living room. Outside, the city hums quietly: the whirr of a generator, a call from a window, a crunch of car tyre on gravel. I’m wearing blue shorts and yellow open-toe sandals — my summer working-from-home garb. I’ve spent the day…