Mohammad Aziz in his office at Beirut airport. Photo Téa Ziadé/L’Orient-Le Jour
"Captain Aziz," as he is known here, is not talkative. He has broad shoulders, a deep voice, and a stone-faced demeanor that reveals nothing. Sitting behind his large desk on the second floor of the airport, he insists he has never known fear. He does admit to a sense of apprehension in the face of a situation that is "nothing normal." But it stems more from the weight of responsibility than from fear of a missile landing on his head.Mohammad Aziz has led Beirut’s airport since August 2025. Or, in local parlance, he chairs the directorate general of Civil Aviation at Rafik Hariri International Airport, just a stone’s throw from the southern suburbs. He decides — together with the presidency and the transportation minister — whether to close Lebanon’s only air gateway to the outside world. More on this Air strikes on...
"Captain Aziz," as he is known here, is not talkative. He has broad shoulders, a deep voice, and a stone-faced demeanor that reveals nothing. Sitting behind his large desk on the second floor of the airport, he insists he has never known fear. He does admit to a sense of apprehension in the face of a situation that is "nothing normal." But it stems more from the weight of responsibility than from fear of a missile landing on his head.Mohammad Aziz has led Beirut’s airport since August 2025. Or, in local parlance, he chairs the directorate general of Civil Aviation at Rafik Hariri International Airport, just a stone’s throw from the southern suburbs. He decides — together with the presidency and the transportation minister — whether to close Lebanon’s only air gateway to the outside world. More on this Air...