South Lebanon in a State of Emergency: Living in the Shadow of Conflict

In the southern Lebanese town of Bint Jbeil, the silence of war prevails. Empty streets and closed markets bear witness to the months-long battles between Hezbollah and Israel, which forced many residents to flee. However, the silence was recently broken by a ceremony for one of its members: Hezbollah held a funeral for one of their fighters and his two sisters, who died in an Israeli airstrike. On-site, accountant Asmaa Alawiyeh describes the difficult living conditions she and her family must endure. Her husband cannot find work, and her children are unable to attend school. "There is no plan," she says, the uncertainty unmistakable in her voice. Since October, Hezbollah has been waging a smaller but intense war along the border with Israel to pin down Israeli forces and support their allies Hamas in Gaza. The violence has already claimed hundreds of lives and displaced more than 150,000 people in both countries. The fear of a larger war is omnipresent, especially after Israel killed a high-ranking Hezbollah official, triggering a chain reaction of attacks and retaliations. The uncertainty about the extent and consequences of this escalation is causing widespread nervousness. In the wealthier part of Beirut, life has largely continued as normal, but recent flight cancellations and travel warnings from foreign embassies have also dampened the mood there. Diana Abi Rashed, with three adult children abroad, struggles with the decision-making: "How can I leave my elderly mother behind?" The south of the country, however, remains heavily affected by the fighting. The Lebanese government reports over 515 fatalities since October, including more than 100 civilians. Hezbollah holds the region firmly; without their permission, even access for journalists is impossible. Many residents in the conflict zones choose to behave cautiously out of fear of possible reprisals. Yet there are also voices that support the fight. "If they want to expand it, we will expand it," says Zainab Bazzi resolutely. In the nearby, relatively quiet town of Rmeish, life continues. A wedding was recently celebrated here despite the omnipresent threat. “People want to get married,” explains Rebecca Nasrallah. The economic impacts of the conflict are profound. Farmers cannot cultivate their fields, and construction projects are halted. "We have no say when Hezbollah goes to war," comments Father Tony Elias resignedly. Although neither side wants a full-scale war, the situation remains tense and hard to resolve. For many Lebanese, like Mahmoud Raslan, who has found refuge in an abandoned hotel, the future is uncertain. "There is no horizon," he says.