Phones of the dead light up with desperate calls as Israeli festival turns into night of horror

In a tunnel at Mount Meron lies a twisted sheet of metal and a body bag, the last remaining signs of the disaster that befell Jewish worshippers in the early hours of Friday morning.

The body bag is empty, but the metal sheet has been ripped off the tunnel wall and is covered in dents, a testament to the struggle of those crushed to death.

Dozens were killed in the stampede, which erupted as Israel's ultra-Orthodox Jewish community celebrated Lag B'Omer, a festival that honours one of Judaism's greatest mystical scholars.

Thousands of plates of food had been prepared and loudspeakers were blaring out music in the Galilee village, as worshippers gathered for the ceremonial lighting of bonfires.

This was the first mass religious gathering to be held in Israel since it lifted nearly all coronavirus restrictions earlier this year, which might explain why such huge crowds had arrived. One local news report estimated that more than 100,000 people had come to enjoy the ceremonies.

It should have been a night of eating, drinking, praying, and enjoying the bonfires. But instead, it ended in grief for dozens of families.

It was unclear on Friday what exactly caused the stampede, though some witnesses said that a group of worshippers had slipped on a staircase, sending a cascade of bodies into the narrow tunnel below, where they were crushed together in suffocating heat.

Others claimed that Israeli police had barricaded part of the tunnel to control the flow of crowds, turning the passageway into a deadly bottleneck.

Whatever the cause, Israel has been devastated by the tragedy, which as of Friday evening has left 45 people dead, reportedly including two brothers aged nine and 14.

Around 150 others have been injured, including at least two people who are in critical condition.

Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli prime minister, said it was "one of the worst disasters that has befallen the state of Israel" and declared this Sunday a national day of mourning.

Israeli paramedics, who over the decades have attended countless suicide bombings and terror attacks in the country, said that even for them it was one of the most awful scenes they had encountered.

“It was like a Lego, one person, then another, then another. We started to do CPR. One after the other they had no pulse," paramedic Levy Steinmatz told The Telegraph.

"There was nothing we could do, and they kept bringing more [bodies]. It was madness."

Mr Steinmatz said he was deeply disturbed by the scene of the stampede itself. "People lost their yarmulkes, their glasses, their shoes... it looked like a scene from the Holocaust," he said.

“It is shocking to think about the last moments of those who died when people were stepping on them. It is really shocking."

"This is one of the worst tragedies that I have ever experienced," added Lazar Hyman of the United Hatzalah volunteer rescue service. "I have not seen anything like this since I entered into the field of emergency medicine.”

Meir Gliksberg, a 27-year-old who was volunteering on Thursday night in the festival kitchens, was among the first to realise how serious the stampede was, when he heard screams in the tunnel below.

“We started pulling wounded people into the kitchen and treating them,” he said. “We had no rescue equipment so we couldn’t give them first aid.”

“The police still did not realize that there were many dead… I grabbed a policeman and showed him the bodies then he realised that something serious was happening.”

As the night drew on, and news of the stampede began to spread, mobile phone coverage in the area collapsed due to overwhelming demand as thousands anxiously called their loved ones.

Zaka, an Israeli emergency services group, said their paramedics saw the mobile phones of the dead lighting up with calls from “Mum,” and “my dear wife”.

The victims’ bodies were taken to Israel's central forensic pathology institute for identification on Friday, and were due to be buried before sundown, in accordance with Jewish custom.

Over the course of the day, the mood among survivors shifted from shock to anger, with the police facing accusations of negligence.

Lag B'Omer draws tens of thousands of people, most of them ultra-Orthodox Jews, each year to honor Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, a 2nd century sage and mystic who is believed to be buried there.

Large crowds traditionally light bonfires, pray and dance as part of the celebrations. But Rabbi Velvel Brevda said police put up barriers this year, which he claimed had prevented people from escaping through exits that were usually open in previous years.

"Where should we leave from?" he said. "And the officers who were there couldn't care less."

The stampede is likely to go down in history as Israel’s worst peacetime disaster, with just a slightly higher death toll than a forest fire at Mount Carmel in 2010 that killed 44 people.

But the sudden transformation, from a peaceful ceremony to a night of horrors, will make it much harder to forget.

"In one moment, we went from a happy event to an immense tragedy," said Zaki Heller, a spokesman for Magen David Adom rescue service.

Government and police face difficult questions over welfare of ultra-Orthodox Jewish population

Israel's government and police force are facing difficult questions over the welfare of the country's ultra-Orthodox Jewish population following Thursday night's deadly stampede during a religious festival at Mount Meron.

Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli prime minister, was met with boos and jeers from ultra-Orthodox Jews when he visited the scene on Friday.

Many have accused the police of making it more difficult to escape from the stampede by erecting barriers that were supposed to control traffic flows.

On Friday evening, Israel's Police Internal Investigations Department, part of the justice ministry, said it would open a formal investigation into the tragedy.

"It is clear an independent examination of all aspects related to the planning of the event will be needed, [including the] preparation, responsibilities, infrastructure and the like,” said Amir Ohana, Israel's public security minister.

The Israeli authorities may also need to confront tough questions as to why the event was allowed to go ahead in the first place during a global pandemic.

There were public health concerns about allowing an estimated 100,000 people to flock to the small village for the ceremony, even in a country where most of the population has been vaccinated.

One health ministry official had urged Israelis not to travel to Mount Meron, though this advice was not widely heeded.

According to the Israeli newspaper Behadrei Haredim, senior rabbis had been lobbying the government to allow the festival to take place without any Covid restrictions.

Ultra-Orthodox parties benefit from considerable political power in Israel as they often prop up Mr Netanyahu's Likud party in coalitions.

The tragedy may also exacerbate longstanding tensions in Israel between its secular and ultra-religious wings.

The latter was strongly criticised for initially refusing to follow Covid lockdowns at the start of the pandemic, and there were violent clashes in Jerusalem between the fervent believers and Israeli police.

However, senior Israeli politicians have said it is much too early to begin apportioning any blame for the disaster at Mount Meron.

"This is not the time to start debating who is responsible for what," said Yuli Edelstein, the health minister.