Some Defiant South Lebanese Stay Put in Face of Israeli Fire

Health ministry figures reveal at least 1,829 people have been killed inside Lebanon since Israel's full scare war started - AFP
Health ministry figures reveal at least 1,829 people have been killed inside Lebanon since Israel's full scare war started - AFP
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Some Defiant South Lebanese Stay Put in Face of Israeli Fire

Health ministry figures reveal at least 1,829 people have been killed inside Lebanon since Israel's full scare war started - AFP
Health ministry figures reveal at least 1,829 people have been killed inside Lebanon since Israel's full scare war started - AFP

Cattle farmer Khairallah Yaacoub refused to leave south Lebanon despite a year of Hezbollah-Israel clashes. When full-scale war erupted, he and four others were stranded in their ruined border village.

Yaacoub is among a handful of villagers in the war-battered south who have tried to stay put despite the Israeli onslaught.

He finally fled Hula village only after being wounded by shrapnel and losing half of his 16-strong herd to Israeli strikes.

They had been marooned by constant bombardment and with rubble-strewn access roads all but unpassable.

The two of the five remaining had no mobile phones and could not be located.

"I wanted to stay with the cows, my livelihood. But in the end I had to leave them too because I was injured," Yaacoub, 55, told AFP.

With no immediate access to a hospital, he had to remove the shrapnel himself using a knife to cauterise his wound and then apply herbal medicine to it.

"It was difficult for me to leave my house because warplanes were constantly circling above our heads and bombing around us," he said, describing weeks of sleepless nights amid intense strikes.

Now north of Beirut, Yaacoub said he dreams of returning home.

"When I arrived in Beirut, I wished I'd died in Hula and never left," he said.

"If there's a ceasefire, I will return to Hula that very night. I'm very attached to the village."

- 'Smoke shisha' -

On September 23, Israel began an air campaign mainly targeting Hezbollah strongholds and later launched ground incursions.

According to an AFP tally of health ministry figures, at least 1,829 people have been killed inside Lebanon since then.

The war has displaced at least 1.3 million people, more than 800,000 of them inside the country, the United Nations migration agency says.

Scarred by memories of Israel's occupation of south Lebanon, a few villagers have refused to leave, fearing they might never see their hometowns again.

On October 22, UN peacekeepers evacuated two elderly sisters, the last residents of the border village of Qawzah, to the nearby Christian village of Rmeish.

Christian and Druze-majority areas have remained relatively safe, with Israel mostly targeting Shiite-majority areas where Hezbollah holds sway.

AFP contacted half a dozen mayors, from the coastal town of Naqura near the border to Qana, about 20 kilometres (12 miles) away, who said villages and towns had been emptied.

But just a few kilometres north of Qana, Abu Fadi, 80, said he is refusing to leave Tayr Debba, a village Israel has repeatedly attacked.

"Since 1978, every time there's an invasion I come back to the village," said the retired south Beirut policeman who now runs a coffee stall in the shade of an olive tree.

"I smoke my shisha and stay put. I'm not scared."

- 'No torture' -

About 5,000 people used to live in Tayr Debba near the main southern city of Tyre, but now only a handful remain, he said.

"About 10 houses in our neighbourhood alone were damaged, with most completely levelled," Fadi said.

"I have long been attached to this house and land."

But he "felt relieved" his nine children and 60 grandchildren -- who repeatedly beg him to leave -- were safe.

Bombs are not the only danger southern Lebanese face.

Israeli soldiers detained a man and a nun in two border villages before releasing them, a Lebanese security official told AFP.

Ihab Serhan, in his sixties, lived with his cat and two dogs in Kfar Kila until soldiers stormed the village and took him to Israel for questioning.

"It was a pain, but at least there was no torture," he told AFP.

He was released about 10 days later and questioned again by the Lebanese army before being freed, he said.

A strike destroyed his car, stranding him without power, water or communications as his village became a battlefield.

"I was stubborn. I didn't want to leave my home," Serhan said.

His late father dreamt of growing old in the village, but died before Israel ended its occupation of the south in 2000, and did not return.

Now the family home has been destroyed.

"I don't know what happened to my animals. Not a single house was left standing in Kfar Kila," Serhan said.



Iraq Opens Arms to Lebanese Fleeing Israeli Attacks

Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
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Iraq Opens Arms to Lebanese Fleeing Israeli Attacks

Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)
Displaced Lebanese people who fled Israeli bombardment in their country to find shelter shop at a market in al-Qassem town in Iraq's central Babylon province on October 20, 2024. (AFP)

Israeli bombardment of Lebanon forced Mohammed Fawaz and his family to flee so often that they finally moved many kilometers (miles) away to find respite in central Iraq.

"Wherever we went, danger followed," the 62-year-old white-haired Lebanese man told AFP in the small town of Al-Qassem, sitting with his wife and daughter.

"That's when I thought of Iraq. It was the only way I could see to escape the danger after we saw death with our own eyes."

Opposite the small house where they now live, beyond a road busy with traffic, tall palm trees emblematic of Iraq's Babylon province stretch as far as the eye can see.

According to the United Nations refugee agency UNHCR, more than 19,200 Lebanese have arrived in Iraq since the escalation of hostilities in Lebanon.

The Baghdad government and Shiite religious authorities mobilized quickly to cope with the influx.

So did the Popular Mobilization Forces, an alliance of pro-Iran former paramilitary groups now integrated into Iraq's security forces.

Everyone turned out to welcome the refugees, helping them get to Iraq and also arranging accommodation.

The solidarity has highlighted the close ties between the Shiite communities of both countries.

Iraq had always welcomed Lebanese pilgrims visiting its famous Shiite shrines at Karbala and Najaf.

But now the Baghdad government, in which pro-Iran parties dominate, is also willing to signal it stands staunchly by Lebanon in the wake of daily Israeli attacks on Hezbollah strongholds there.

Fawaz is originally from south Lebanon, and moved to the southern suburbs of Beirut before later moving again to the outskirts of the capital.

- 'Invited guests' -

"We fled from place to place," the father of four said, bursting into tears when he spoke of relatives back in Lebanon.

"My displaced brothers now live in schools in different areas."

His journey to Iraq included a coach trip across Syria.

After a stopover in the Sayyida Zeinab area south of Damascus, home to a Shiite shrine protected by pro-Iran groups, their entry to Iraq was coordinated by the PMF.

Fawaz hailed what he called "the best welcome" and Iraqi generosity, especially from his host, one of many Al-Qassem residents who have opened their doors to Lebanese refugees.

He praised Iraq's government for "treating us like invited guests, not refugees".

The war in Lebanon has displaced at least 1.3 million people, according to the UN migration agency, and more than half a million have fled into neighboring Syria.

Those who opted to stay often find themselves in makeshift and under-equipped shelters set up in schools.

In other areas, their presence can sometimes provoke unease or mistrust.

Iraq has made things easier for the new arrivals by extending visas. Those with no passports are helped out with new travel documents, in coordination with the Lebanese embassy.

The UNHCR says that some 62 percent of the Lebanese arrivals are women and children, and that the children will be able to attend Iraqi schools.

Nearly half of the arrivals are being housed in Najaf and also Karbala.

The religious authorities have taken over hotels previously reserved for pilgrims.

- 'No alternative' -

Jalal Assi, who is in his forties, is now in Karbala.

"We had no alternative, and decided to come to Iraq," he told AFP, citing the "facilities offered to Lebanese".

"We hope the situation will get better and security will be restored so we can go home," he added.

Neemat Mussa, 44, originally from the south Lebanese village of Hariss, is now living in the Babylon provincial capital Hilla.

She and her husband, their two daughters and an aunt are staying in a house owned by an Iraqi police officer.

When she does the family shopping she is driven there accompanied by a local benefactor who also foots the bill.

"We chose Iraq because it's a safe place where we are not afraid," she said in a tired voice. It is her first time in the country, although her husband came previously on pilgrimage.

The warmth of Iraq's welcome cannot mask the bitterness of exile.

Mussa has lost her cousin and sister-in-law in the war, and she follows the news intently on her phone.

She weeps when she talks of their loss and of the country to which she longs to return.

"I'm in a comfortable home, and the Iraqis make sure we lack for nothing," she said, adding: "When I got sick, they took me to hospital."

"But I miss my house and my own country, my neighbors and my family. That's my real home."