Lebanon’s war-wounded, pregnant face deepening healthcare crisis

A ceasefire brokered by the United States and France in late 2024 brought an end to 14 months of brutal, wide-spread warfare between Israel and Hezbollah and prevented a major Israeli invasion of southern Lebanon. Israel killed nearly 4,000 Lebanese and left close to 18,000 others wounded. 

At the time of the announcement of the ceasefire, Washington hailed the agreement as a “permanent cessation of hostilities” between the two sides. But Israel still continues to strike Lebanon and occupies five key sites in the south along the border.

The deepening crisis and how the ceasefire did not mark any tangible relief for the Lebanese are also illustrated by what’s happening with Lebanon’s war-wounded and expectant mothers.

While the Lebanese Ministry of Health initially pledged free care for wounded civilians, pregnant women, and displaced persons during Israel’s war on the country, that promise has frayed in the aftermath.

Hospitals, both public and private, now demand upfront payments, emergency rooms turn patients away, and surgeries are often denied unless patients can cover steep out-of-pocket costs.

Hospitals turn patients away as funding dries up

Sources speaking to The New Arab point out that many patients previously treated at private hospitals were later refused admission.

The reasons varied, but controversy erupted online over allegations that the American University of Beirut Medical Centre (AUBMC) had apparently declined to treat Mehdi Shalhoub, a wounded fighter, after an appointment had been scheduled. 

Fellow fighter Jawad Qassir posted an audio recording allegedly of the incident, with claims circulating of an internal verbal directive at AUBMC branding wounded Hezbollah fighters as “terrorists” and denying them care.

In response, AUBMC issued a statement firmly denying the accusations. 

Additionally, Fact Check Lebanon, a unit within the Ministry of Information, said it contacted AUBMC and found no evidence to support the accusations, reaffirming that all patients were provided with a comprehensive care plan either within the hospital or through external referrals.

“We feel disheartened, like there’s no point,” said Zeinab Shalhoub, Mehdi’s wife. “Mehdi lost one eye and retains just 20 to 25 percent vision in the other.”

According to sources affiliated with Hezbollah, political pressure has allegedly discouraged particular hospitals from treating Hezbollah fighters, without naming names. 

“Favouritism influences our healthcare system just as it does other sectors in Lebanon,” said the Hezbollah-affiliated source, who requested anonymity due to safety concerns. “We advised the wounded to steer clear of certain hospitals because of these unfair directives.”

During active conflict, hospitals admitted war-wounded and pregnant patients freely, with the ministry covering costs.

After the ceasefire, this policy has shifted, apparently drastically.

Rafik Hariri University Hospital even allocated a special unit for war-wounded, particularly non-civilian cases. Several ministry-contracted hospitals accepted emergency cases exclusively, such as fractures and wounds requiring urgent surgical supplies.

However, stricter classifications emerged following the ceasefire. 

Some doctors have continued to treat patients elsewhere, including at Bahman Hospital, located in Beirut’s southern suburbs.

“We now have many skilled doctors in other hospitals, so the wounded are being redirected to facilities that are operational again,” the source said.

He added that the initial shock of caring for casualties of the Israel’s pager attacks were overwhelming to the staff. 

Pregnant women caught in a collapsing system

Pregnant women have also been affected. Initially, hospitals continued admitting them, but as soon as the Ministry of Health stopped disbursing aid, many were turned away. 

“We didn’t know what to do with the growing number of expectant mothers suffering,” the source added.

A university-run program allowed pregnant women to be seen on Saturdays, including ultrasounds, thanks to an initiative by obstetrics students. However, deliveries, once free, are now priced at $500 for normal births and between $600 and $700 for caesarean sections.

Other facilities like Zahraa Hospital continued to admit patients, but options became scarce as hospitals such as Rasoul al-Aazam and Saint George ceased operating.

Meanwhile, public hospitals were overwhelmed, with pregnant women often waiting hours or being told there was no room at all.

Media Ali Al-Mohammed, a pregnant woman displaced by the conflict, was bounced between three hospitals before finally receiving care. She was turned away due to overcrowding and lack of equipment, and was only admitted after Hezbollah’s medical wing stepped in to pay her delivery costs.

“They reassured me it was temporary, likely due to stress and exhaustion,” Al-Mohammed said. “But they told me I would have to pay 35 percent of the delivery costs if I gave birth there, plus any neonatal intensive care.”

The medical wing of Hezbollah later paid the remainder of her delivery costs at Hiram Medical Centre in Tyre, following partial coverage from the Ministry of Health.

Private facilities in dire straights

As public hospitals are engulfed, private facilities like Sahel Hospital report no reimbursements from the Lebanese Ministry of Health, despite treating hundreds during the war. 

“Since the ceasefire, the Ministry of Health has been transferring its patients to public hospitals,” said Mazen Allameh, general director of Sahel Hospital. “We treated hundreds of wounded during the conflict and the pager explosions, but we haven’t received a single payment.”

He added that Lebanese health minister Firass Abiad visited the hospital and acknowledged the issue, but no funds have yet been disbursed.

Allameh noted that Sahel Hospital continues to accept patients from the Lebanese Army, Internal Security Forces, and General Security, who are fully covered and incur no personal costs.

“But most hospitals are grappling with a growing financial crisis and can’t take any additional patients,” he stressed. 

A recent proposal from the Syndicate of Hospitals calls for a 15 percent increase in fees starting in March, pending discussions with relevant authorities.

Bassem Ghanem, an advisor to the Health Minister, insisted that public hospital care is still being offered free of charge to pregnant women and displaced persons, and that up to 65 percent of surgery costs at private hospitals are covered, except for specific cases like glaucoma or nasal polyps.

Still, patients in Lebanon without affiliations to the army or internal security services are often told to pay $500 before admission, a barrier many simply cannot afford.

This article is published in collaboration with Egab.