At least 26 people killed as boat carrying migrants capsizes off Italy
Italy's coastguard said the death toll was still 'provisional and being updated' as rescuers continued to search for survivors.
UNHCR, the United Nations' refugee agency, said 60 survivors were brought to a centre in Lampedusa following Wednesday's capsizing.
Based on survivor accounts, about 95 migrants left Libya on two boats, International Organization for Migration spokesperson Flavio Di Giacomo said.
When one of the two vessels started to take on water, all the passengers were transferred to the other boat — made of fiberglass — which then capsized because of overloading, he added.
It wasn't immediately known how long the migrants had been at sea. Lampedusa Mayor Filippo Mannino said that the shipwreck happened 'presumably at dawn'.
So far this year, 675 migrants have died making the perilous central Mediterranean crossing, not counting the latest sinking, according to the UN refugee agency.
'Deep anguish over yet another shipwreck off the coast of Lampedusa, where UNHCR is now assisting the survivors,' Ungaro said on X.
In the first six months of 2025, 30,060 refugees and migrants arrived in Italy by sea, a 16% increase compared to the same period last year, according to UNHCR.
The migration route from northern Africa to southern Europe is considered one of the most dangerous in the world, with almost 24,500 people dying or disappearing on the Mediterranean crossing in the past decade, according to the UN's International Organisation for Migration.
Most of the deaths have been attributed to small boats setting off from the coasts of Tunisia and Libya.
The deadliest shipwreck off the coast of Lampedusa occurred on October 3, 2013, when a boat carrying over 500 migrants from Eritrea, Somalia, and Ghana caught fire and capsized, killing at least 368 people.
Italian prime minister Giorgia Meloni – who made combating illegal immigration a top priority of her right-wing government – pledged on Wednesday to continue fighting 'unscrupulous traffickers' by preventing irregular departures and managing migration flows.
'That today's tragedy occurred despite a ready and operational international response warns us that the necessary rescue effort is not sufficient and, above all, does not address the root causes of this tragic problem,' she said.
Get all the latest news from around the country Follow STV News
Scan the QR code on your mobile device for all the latest news from around the country
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
BBC News
2 hours ago
- BBC News
War crimes likely committed in Syria coastal violence, UN says
Members of Syria's interim government forces as well as fighters linked to the former regime likely committed war crimes during sectarian violence in March that killed around 1,400 people, mainly civilians, a UN report UN Syria Commission of Inquiry said it had found no evidence the authorities in Damascus had ordered the violence along the coast, the heartland of the Alawite sect of Islam, exposed divisions after Islamist-led rebels ousted ex-President Bashar al-Assad in December. It erupted as security forces were ambushed by groups loyal to the former regime, leading to clashes between government forces, largely Sunni Muslim, and Assad loyalists, mostly Alawite. Syria's White Helmets step in after deadly attacksBloodshed heaps pressure on Sharaa and exposes deep Syria fracturesThe civilians caught up in Syria's complex conflict The authorities sent reinforcements, who were also joined by thousands of fighters, and the operation turned into revenge killings of a sectarian nature. After decades of brutality under the Assads in the mainly Sunni country, many associate Alawites, which make up around 10% of Syria's population, with the old to the UN commission, "acts that likely amount to crimes, including war crimes" including murder, torture, abductions, and inhumane acts related to the dead were committed by interim government force members as well as fighters linked to the Assad commission called on the government, which launched an inquiry, to expand accountability efforts."The scale and brutality of the violence documented in our report is deeply disturbing," Paulo Sérgio Pinheiro, chair of the UN Syria Commission of Inquiry, said in a statement."We call on the interim authorities to continue to pursue accountability for all perpetrators, regardless of affiliation or rank. While dozens of alleged perpetrators of violations have reportedly since been arrested, the scale of the violence documented in our report warrants expanding such efforts."The report also warned that retaliatory attacks are continuing "amidst a heightened climate of fear and must urgently be addressed by the interim government".The commission documented "gross human rights violations" in 16 locations in Latakia, Tartus, Homs and Hama governorates populated primarily by Alawites in early it said, went door to door asking civilians in a majority of cases whether they were Alawite, before taking men and boys away to be victims were Alawite men between 20 and 50 years old, according to the report, although women and children as young as one were also killed in house individuals filmed themselves committing "serious human rights violations", it said, including severe beatings and executions, or walking alongside dead reprisal, families were forced to keep the bodies of their loved ones inside their homes for days, or in the streets to be buried in mass graves later. Hospitals were overwhelmed as corpses piled fled to neighbouring Lebanon or a Russian airbase for safety. Many survivors and Alawites have since left to other parts of Syria or sought refuge abroad, the report report concluded that the consistent patterns of targeted violence against civilians "indicates that such acts were not random or isolated".The commission conducted more than 200 interviews with witnesses and victims and gained access to coastal areas and affected communities. Assad was overthrown in December after 14 years of civil war and documented human rights abuses by his regime. An interim government was formed, led by a former rebel, Ahmed report found the security vacuum after Assad's ouster as well as disinformation and hate speech spread online about Alawites contributed to retributive clashes escalated between former and pro-government factions, other fighters, including foreigners, joined government forces mobilised to coastal government issued statements instructing civilians not to take up arms and warning fighters against harming civilians, the report were established, and in the city of Tartus, checkpoints to stop fighters entering spared the city from violence seen elsewhere.A government inquiry, published in July, identified 298 alleged perpetrators among individuals and groups within military factions, and 265 alleged perpetrators linked to former government told the commission in June that 42 people had so far been arrested for alleged abuses. The government also said it had created a complaints office for security and police personnel misconduct commission recommended the government strengthen its courts system to ensure justice, work on reparations for survivors, and build trust with communities, among other violence has erupted elsewhere in Syria since month, hundreds were reported killed in clashes in Suweida in the country's south. Both Bedouin and Druze fighters as well as the Syrian army have been accused of killing civilians and extra judicial government said it was aware of reports of "shocking violations" by people wearing military fatigues and told the BBC any allegations of atrocities committed by all sides would be fully investigated.
Economist
7 hours ago
- Economist
The great Syrian beach trip A visit to the seaside once risked arrest and torture. Now people are soaking up the sun
When Syrian schools broke up for the summer in July, Nesrine al-Haj Ali decided to go to the beach. Syria has a substantial stretch of Mediterranean coastline, but al-Haj Ali, 40, had never seen it before. Still dressed in her manto, the overcoat many veiled Syrian women wear, she walked over the hot sand into the waves, not stopping until the water reached her shoulders. She was nearly out of her depth and, suddenly afraid, started to turn back. Her husband, who was beside her in the water, pointed out that her manto would cling to her when she emerged. It was such a ridiculous bit of fussing that she forgot about her fear and laughed. 'What, should I wait for everyone to leave before getting out?' Syria's beaches are receiving a large number of first-time visitors this summer. Resorts remained open throughout the 14-year civil war, but for many Syrians the political and sectarian geography of the conflict rendered them off-limits. The coast is home to the bulk of Syria's Alawites, a minority group from which Bashar al-Assad and most of his security forces were drawn. Though many Sunnis lived there too, the area became a stronghold for Assad and his Alawite fighters during the civil war, and was protected by a network of checkpoints. People from the predominantly Sunni towns and cities that had risen up against the regime risked being stopped at them. Many of those detained were taken away, tortured and killed. Coming from Daraa, as al-Haj Ali did, was particularly dangerous, because the uprising had started there. 'Anybody with a Daraa ID card was under suspicion,' she said. The coastal area was protected by a network of checkpoints. 'Anybody with a Daraa ID card was under suspicion' New wave Boys in Latakia take a swim on a hot day (opening image). The coast used to be under Bashar al-Assad's control, and since his removal last year visitors from all over the country have been enjoying the seaside (top to bottom) On December 8th 2024 Assad fled the country, and Ahmed al-Sharaa, the leader of the most powerful Islamist rebel group, assumed control. Regime checkpoints were abandoned. The soldiers who manned them melted away, leaving their uniforms discarded on the roadside. On the M4 motorway leading to the coast only the pockmarks left by shells suggest that it was recently a heavily guarded front line. I met al-Haj Ali the day after her first plunge. She was sitting on a concrete wall overlooking the beach in the city of Tartus, together with her sister Khoula, who was also visiting for the first time. Children splashed at the water's edge, while adults swam farther out. It was late afternoon, and the heat was becoming less fierce. Vendors had arranged plastic chairs and tables into neat rows on the sand outside their kiosks. Young men ferried cold drinks and shisha pipes to customers up and down the beach. On the corniche the fairy lights strung round corn-on-the-cob stalls glowed in the gathering dusk. Khoula surveyed the scene contentedly. 'I'm really happy to be here,' she said. A little farther up the coast I met another post-war holidaymaker, 56-year-old Rawaa al-Rajab. She was from the central city of Homs, the heart of the uprising. The regime pummelled it over the course of several years, reducing her neighbourhood to rubble. Eventually rebels surrendered the city and al-Rajab, along with thousands of others, was put on a bus to northern Syria, where opposition forces still maintained control. It was risky for people in rebel-held areas to phone people in regime strongholds – you never knew if Assad's security forces were listening Beach boys Wadi Qandil is famous for its black-sand beaches (top). From the corniche in Latakia you can see boats floating in the bay (middle). Rawaa al-Rajab, left, watches her daughter play with her baby in the sand (bottom) Throughout the war al-Rajab was separated from her brother, Khaled. He had been working in a factory on the coast when the uprising started, and decided to stay there. It was risky for people in rebel-held areas to phone people in regime strongholds – you never knew if Assad's security forces were listening – so al-Rajab barely even spoke to her brother. 'In all those years I heard my brother's voice just twice,' she said. 'He called me once when my other brother died, and once when my husband died.' When she heard the regime had finally fallen the first thing she did was to call Khaled. Two days later al-Rajab was on the M4 driving towards him. 'It felt like flying,' she said. When I saw her she was sitting on a plastic chair wedged into the black sand of Wadi Qandil beach: hijab on, shoes off and a cigarette in hand. Khaled was by her side. Al-Rajab was in her element, a matriarch holding court with four generations of her family gathered around the fold-up table they'd brought with them. It was piled with packets of potato crisps and fruit in tupperware containers. She poured me some cardamom-laced coffee in a small ceramic cup, and we chatted. Before the war, al-Rajab had written tourist guides to the country, extolling the virtues of its archaeological sites and ancient souks. She knew that persuading foreign visitors to return would take a long time, but was unimpressed with the start made by the new tourism ministry. A few weeks earlier it had issued a statement that appeared to ban women from wearing bikinis or swimming costumes on public beaches (officials later claimed it had been a recommendation, not an order). 'I'm against that,' said al-Rajab. 'Wear a bikini if you want. Every human is free and your religion is only between you and Allah.' 'Wear a bikini if you want, every human is free and your religion is only between you and Allah' Coasting Four generations of al-Rajab's family have gathered for a day at the beach. Chairs are placed in the water and the corniche in Latakia is lined with cafés, but in the heat of the Syrian summer some prefer to sit in the cooling waves (top to bottom) What people needed now, she said, was security. 'I have a big family and none of them wants revenge for the blood they lost, we just want peace for all Syrians. And when my son is out of the house I don't want to be worrying about whether he's going to come back.' I asked her what her losses had been and her hand drifted to her heart. Al-Rajab used to have another brother, she told me, who was arrested in 2012. She believes a female relative reported him to the intelligence services for working with the opposition. When rebels opened up Sednaya, the Assad regime's notorious prison, she was able to confirm what she had long suspected: he had died in its labyrinth of torture chambers. Her family has intermarried with Alawites, and it is this branch which is now feeling vulnerable. In March this year supporters of the old regime in the coastal areas attempted an uprising against al-Sharaa, which sparked brutal reprisals. Over three days, forces aligned with the new government killed more than a thousand Alawite civilians. Many young Alawites have been kidnapped or murdered since. Among those affected is the relative who al-Rajab believes betrayed her brother. Her son has been missing for some time. She feels sorry for the woman, in spite of everything. Looking out over the bustling beach, al-Rajab reflected on the juncture the country is at. 'Syria is heaven,' she said. 'But it needs pure hands to build it again.' When I asked her whether al-Sharaa's hands were clean enough, she equivocated. 'The new government isn't bad, and we need to have hope. One hand doesn't clap on its own; it must be the people and the government working together.' The DJ was playing songs from the Syrian revolution, modern and traditional Lebanese artists, a Palestinian resistance anthem and the theme tune from 'Friends' Last resort Friends enjoy grilled fish and mezze at a restaurant in Latakia (top). A captain ferries visitors from Tartus to Arwad Island, once a popular tourism destination (middle). The passenger in the middle appears to be carrying a gun (bottom) At the southern end of Wadi Qandil is a row of wooden chalets. On Friday nights these are full of young people up from Damascus for the weekend, and the sounds of a beach bar that pumps out music until 3am. The DJ was playing an eclectic mix when I visited – songs from the Syrian revolution, modern and traditional Lebanese artists, a Palestinian resistance anthem and the theme tune from 'Friends'. The Damascene clientele, who were dancing and drinking beer, would probably have been free to visit the coast during the war, but were clearly relishing the opportunity to express themselves more freely now that Assad has gone. They had other concerns though. After the recommendations on beach attire were circulated, the owner of one of the chalets had a meeting with an official from the new government. 'I told him, 'If you force people to dress a certain way you're damaging Syria's reputation,'' he said. 'Syria will never be ruled religiously, it's impossible.' He was less worried about al-Sharaa's forces than conservative vigilantes. He and some fellow chalet-owners have pooled cash to hire a security guard. So far, the only incident has been a raid by the new security forces, who said they came looking for a man they considered fulul, a newly popular word in Syria that refers to Assad loyalists. According to the chalet-owner the security forces beat everyone at the scene to try to extract information about the fulul. He says if he'd had any he would have volunteered it the need for violence. 'I don't want the headache.' 'There is no wasta anymore,' said Mustafa, using the Arabic word for the practice of working connections. 'Anybody can play football' On the rocks Young people in Latakia enjoy a swim. As evening approaches, visitors come to the corniche to watch the sunset, while boys dive into the sea. A spear fisherman gathers his catch (top to bottom) Thirty kilometres down the coast in the city of Latakia, a group of suntanned teenage boys were gathered on the rocks beneath the seafront promenade. They ran to the water and pushed and pulled each other in, then clambered out to do it again and again. One of them, Mustafa, was 15 but looked younger. He told me he'd just finished his last exam, and was looking forward to a long summer of swimming and football. Regime-affiliated gangs known as shabiha used to rule Latakia. They were violent and untouchable, and their turf extended to the waterfront. Mustafa said you needed the patronage of one of these men even to take part in local sports; they leaned on the coaches who selected the teams. Now the shabiha have slunk away, and their networks of influence have collapsed. 'There is no wasta anymore,' said Mustafa, using the Arabic word for the practice of working connections. 'Anybody can play football.' On the promenade above Mustafa, three men in the black uniforms of Syria's new police force were smoking shisha. They had fought in the rebellion, spending the last years of the war in the north-western province of Idlib. When Assad fell they were redeployed to Damascus, and had decided to come to the beach on their day off. 'We're happy to be here,' said one of them, a handsome 30-year-old called Sultan Nasser. 'We haven't come here since 2011, so it's kind of strange.' Nasser was originally from Ghouta, one of the Damascus suburbs where resistance to the regime was particularly active. He joined the armed rebels in 2011 after his brother-in-law was shot dead at a peaceful protest. Having spent most of his adult life at war, he was ready to start thinking about other things: setting up a home, looking after a family. The seaside wasn't all that relaxing for him. He was conscious that people there didn't like the new security forces. There are estimated to be as many as 10,000 insurgents loyal to the old regime hiding out in the coastal areas. Even in Damascus he'd felt resentment when he searched people's cars at checkpoints. Tahhan had never seen the capital, let alone the sea. 'It felt like coming home,' he said Swings and roundabouts Despite years of war, many of the classic seaside attractions can still be found in Syria. Al-Rajab's grandson tucks into a watermelon. The seafront rides in Tartus light up the night (top to bottom) 'Sometimes we hear them say that 'It's the same as the Assad days',' he said indignantly. 'People aren't thankful, they're not grateful to the people who won them their freedom.' Sitting beside him was a younger fighter, Mohammed Tahhan, a 19-year-old who grew up in rebel-held Idlib and then joined the military arm of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, al-Sharaa's group. He had turned away from my translator and me when we first approached, uncomfortable speaking to two young women. But he slowly warmed up, and eventually insisted on buying us two wilted roses from a child street-hawker. Until he entered Damascus with his triumphant colleagues in December 2024, Tahhan had never seen the capital, let alone the sea. 'It felt like coming home,' he said. 'All of Syria feels like home now.' Not long after we spoke al-Sharaa sent his security forces into the heartland of another religious minority. Suwayda, a region in southern Syria, is mostly populated by members of the Druze sect, whom Sunni fundamentalists see as heretics. Druze leaders were no fans of Assad but worried about being ruled by a hardline Islamist government. Al-Sharaa's troops ostensibly came to keep the peace after armed clashes between Druze men and local Sunni tribes, but many saw their deployment as an attempt to project power on a region that had not yet submitted to the transitional government's rule. Violence increased, and men wearing the uniforms of the new authorities were seen participating in massacres of Druze civilians. Then Israel intervened on behalf of the Druze, bombing the ministry of defence in Damascus. Challenges to al-Sharaa's authority are rising throughout the country, and next year's beach season may be less peaceful. Heidi Pett is a journalist in Damascus PHOTOGRAPHS GABRIEL FERNEINI More from
The National
a day ago
- The National
Woman arrested under abortion buffer zone law faces no further action
Rose Docherty, 75, was arrested after police were called to reports of an anti-abortion protest in Hardgate Road in Glasgow, near the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital (QEUH), in February. She had been holding a sign that read: 'Coercion is a crime, here to talk, only if you want.' The Crown Office and Procurator Fiscal Service (COPFS) said it has now decided no further action should be taken at this time. READ MORE: Italian Oasis fan dies hours before band played at Murrayfield A COPFS spokesperson said: 'The procurator fiscal received a report relating to a 75-year-old female and an incident said to have occurred on February 19, 2025. 'Professional prosecutors from COPFS considered the report. All Scotland's prosecutors operate independently of political influence. 'After careful consideration of the facts and circumstances of the case, including the available admissible evidence, it was decided that there should be no further action taken at this time. 'The Crown reserves the right to take proceedings in relation to this incident in the future.' The Safe Access Zones Act was overwhelmingly passed by MSPs last year and came into force in September. The legislation prevents anti-abortion protesters from gathering within 200 metres of clinics where terminations are carried out. Before the law change, hospitals such as the QEUH in Glasgow had become a frequent target of anti-abortion protesters in recent years.
