‘We were left alone’: Along Israel's ‘Yellow Line’, Lebanese feel abandoned by the state
On the seafront in Sour, a major coastal city in southern Lebanon, the scene repeats itself every day. From Nabih Berri Street, dozens of people watch the southern Lebanese coastline, visible to the naked eye all the way to the border town of Naqoura.
Their faces show anxiety, even disbelief. A local woman points towards large white rocks in the distance: the cliffs of al-Bayada, barely eight kilometres away, now an advanced position for Israeli troops as part of their ongoing invasion of southern Lebanon.
Even if the soldiers themselves are not visible, the occupation of the territory is a heartbreak for the residents of Sour, compounded by a persistent sense of being watched.
“Israel has always wanted to take Naqoura. The headland offers a clear view of the entire coastline. We used to be under constant drone surveillance; now we know they are watching us directly from there,” said Lina, despairing. Her apartment overlooks what she calls “the newly occupied territories”.
In the surrounding streets, many displaced residents from villages closest to the Blue Line – the boundary drawn by the UN in 2000 to mark Israel’s withdrawal from southern Lebanon – have found refuge, despite the severe damage inflicted here by Israeli forces.
For many, their land has either been rendered uninhabitable by bombardment or is now under occupation.
Following a limited opening of the area to the press by Hezbollah, journalists can, for a few hours, travel further south of Sour.
The coastal road that winds along the shoreline is almost deserted. Only a handful of vehicles weave through a landscape of devastation, lined with photos of Hezbollah fighters killed since the opening of the Lebanese front on 8 October 2023.
A checkpoint manned by a handful of Lebanese soldiers appears on the horizon. There is no way forward.
Israeli troops are no more than a kilometre away, in al-Bayada, the first locality along the northern coastal approach to be included in Israel's “Yellow Line”, drawn roughly 10 kilometres inside southern Lebanon.
This demarcation, imposed by Israel after the implementation of a 10-day ceasefire, mirrors the model seen in Gaza, preventing residents of dozens of border communities from returning to their homes.
A short distance inland lies the village of al-Mansouri.
The scene is repeated across southern Lebanon: empty streets and collapsed buildings stretch as far as the eye can see. Everything is in disarray, including the village mosque, its minaret severed.
After the ceasefire came into effect on 17 April, another tragedy unfolded. A small group of villagers who returned immediately after the truce was announced came under fire from Israeli forces.
One resident, speaking anonymously to Middle East Eye, recounted that day.
“We scattered across different parts of the village after coming under fire.
“Neither the security forces nor the Red Cross were allowed to enter our village, this land for which we have shed so much blood. We were left alone.”
Residents say that any attempt to leave by car was met with Israeli gunfire, both from the ground and from the air.
There then followed a four-day siege, during which they survived on lemons alone.
Mohammad, in his thirties, was not there at the time. With a vacant stare, he explained that he had pieced together his father’s final moments from those who were present.
His father was caught in a ring of fire, Mohammad said, before the building where he had taken shelter was struck.
More than 2,500 people have been killed in Israeli strikes since 2 March. The toll includes 277 women, 177 children and 100 medics, according to Lebanon's health ministry.
'Yellow Line'
Officially, al-Mansouri does not fall within the “Yellow Line”, although it now lies on its edge.
“We are trying to understand what is happening. The Israelis have positions very close by, on top of the hill overlooking the town. They can see the entire village,” said Moussa Zein, a 65-year-old resident who has recently returned.
'The ceasefire is being violated dozens of times a day, while our government wanders into talks with the enemy'
– Mohammad, al-Mansouri village
Like many others, Moussa would prefer to stay, a desire constrained more by the extent of destruction and the lack of water and electricity than by the risk of Israeli strikes, which have continued daily across southern Lebanon despite the ceasefire.
“Our lives, and those of our parents, have been shaped by wars and invasions. For a long time, no one paid attention. But now the whole world understands that Hezbollah is just a pretext for Israel's territorial expansion,” said Mohammad.
As evidence, he points to remarks made last summer by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on I24, in which he said he was driven by a “historic and spiritual mission” and was “deeply” committed to the vision of the Promised Land and Greater Israel.
“The occupation cannot last. We believe in the resistance. It is the only thing that can protect us,” said Mohammad.
“And the ceasefire is being violated dozens of times a day, while our government wanders into talks with the enemy,” he added, referring to recent talks between Tel Aviv and Beirut in Washington, the first in three decades.
Scars of Israeli strikes
A few kilometres southeast of al-Mansouri, residents of Majdal Zoun, also on the edge of the “Yellow Line”, share the same concerns.
The small town, perched on a hill and usually home to around 5,000 people, is now almost deserted. The scars of Israeli strikes are everywhere, making it difficult to find a single intact house.
A group of young women, forced to seek refuge in Sour, return every day.
“This is our village. We don’t want to abandon it, so we go back and forth every day. We believe in the resistance. We will not leave it to the enemy,” they said, almost in unison.
From the village cemetery, they look out towards Sour on the horizon.
“The geographic position of Majdal Zoun will attract the enemy’s attention. We fear they may try to seize it very soon,” they added.
A drone hums overhead. They glance anxiously at the sky.
On the southern edge of Majdal Zoun, Shama is visible to the naked eye, an occupied village just two kilometres away. Its fort, which houses the shrine of Shamoun al-Safa, the tomb of the eponymous prophet, has been heavily damaged.
In mid-April, Lebanon’s cuture ministry announced it had filed an “urgent complaint with Unesco”, calling for immediate intervention to protect the archaeological site.
Several Israeli flags are visible from afar, although no troop movement was observed during Middle East Eye’s visit.
'We rely on the resistance'
A few kilometres to the east lies the village of Tayr Harfa, also occupied by Israeli forces. Explosions echo regularly, with plumes of smoke rising in the distance.
“They are blowing up houses. After bombing the villages, they are determined to raze everything, just like they did in Gaza,” said Ali, 39.
Ali fears for the future of his village, now encircled along its southern flank by the Israeli army.
“Unfortunately, we expect nothing from the Lebanese army. We rely on the resistance. Otherwise Majdal Zoun will fall too.”
Ali spoke of “heroic actions” by Hezbollah fighters, who, before the ceasefire, inflicted losses on Israeli forces and prevented them from advancing further.
That confrontation continues. On 23 April, Hezbollah claimed it had shot down a surveillance drone in the area.
A few kilometres further north, the village of Qlaileh mourned several Hezbollah fighters killed in combat. A woman gently, almost mechanically, strokes her son’s portrait, her eyes filled with tears.
Beside her, Rana, 30, said: “I don’t want their sacrifice to be in vain. We can only rely on ourselves, so we will fight to keep our land. We can only rely on ourselves.”
This article was sourced from Middle East Eye.
Read Full Article on Middle East Eye →