Sense of foreboding palpable as refugees flood neighbouring states

This remorseless flow of refugees into neighbouring countries means talk of a "Syrian" civil war no longer makes sense. Photo / AP

The lucky ones move in with relatives; the poorest sleep under bridges. Others find themselves crammed into the old Palestinian refugee camps of south Beirut.

In a region where one upheaval succeeds another, the casualties of an earlier "catastrophe" in the eyes of Arabs - the birth of Israel 65 years ago - are now living alongside the fugitives of today's calamity in Syria.

This remorseless flow of refugees into neighbouring countries means talk of a "Syrian" civil war no longer makes sense. This conflict has spread beyond President Bashar al-Assad's blood-soaked domain to become a crisis for the entire Middle East.

The numbers are staggering. At least 8000 refugees enter Lebanon every day, swelling the country's four million population by a quarter in just two years; 720,000 are registered, but there are probably another 300,000.

Jordan and Turkey have 500,000 registered refugees each; even Iraq is in the unusual position of being a safe place, hosting 170,000 Syrians.

The figures are so huge it's easy to forget they concern fellow human beings, with emotions, ideals and ambitions much like the rest of us. One such is Anas Ghaibeh, an articulate English-speaking 28-year-old, who fled Syria last year for the relative safety of Lebanon. "If I had stayed, I would have been 'disappeared' like my friends," he said.

Ghaibeh fled as he was suspected of supporting the rebels - or "terrorists", as the regime calls its enemies. He says he simply delivered food to Baba Amr in the city of Homs, laid waste by Assad's forces. But now he says: "The Lebanese hate Syrians. They say the Syrians take our jobs."

As Ghaibeh knows, Lebanon's sectarian balance was upset by the arrival of Palestinian refugees after 1948, which helped spark the civil war that began in 1975. "I think the same scenario will happen again," he says.