Beirut’s Southern Suburb Becomes a ‘Ghost Town’ as Residents Hesitate to Return

The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
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Beirut’s Southern Suburb Becomes a ‘Ghost Town’ as Residents Hesitate to Return

The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)

Ali F., 35, refused to enter Beirut's southern suburbs to check on his home after Monday night airstrikes.

“I’m not taking any chances... I'll find out if the building is destroyed eventually,” he said.

He left his home in a rush days ago after Israeli forces warned residents to evacuate.

Now, he’s unsure about returning to collect his belongings.

“No one lives in the building anymore,” he told Asharq Al-Awsat. “If the power cuts while I’m in the elevator, I’ll be stuck, and no one will rescue me.”

Beirut’s southern suburbs were hit overnight after the Israeli military warned residents to leave areas near buildings it said contained Hezbollah infrastructure.

The area has become a “ghost town,” according to a civil defense worker near the area on Monday night, after the Israeli army announced airstrike targets.

Most residents evacuated their homes and moved to safer areas. By Tuesday morning, only a few dozen remained — mostly medics, civil defense workers, and some municipal police officers.

On Monday night, the Israeli army warned residents to evacuate three areas in the southern suburbs: Rweiss near Burj al-Barajneh, Mrayjeh near Lailaki, and Bir al-Abed in Haret Hreik.

The three targeted areas cover a five-kilometer stretch, filled with residential buildings home to tens of thousands.

These neighborhoods have long been the population hub of Beirut's southern suburbs, which have expanded east toward Hadath and south to Choueifat over the past 20 years.

Mona, who lives in Rweiss, questioned the strikes: “What’s in these areas to justify targeting them? Could there really be a weapons depot in a residential building right along the Hadi Nasrallah Highway?”

She was referring to two buildings in Bir al-Abed and Rweiss that were hit near the highway.

“Could a military facility really be under a building where dozens of families live?” Mona believes the Israeli army wants to clear the area, claiming the presence of weapons as an excuse.

The Israeli army said it launched “precision strikes on Hezbollah weapons manufacturing sites and infrastructure in Beirut’s southern suburbs on Monday night.”

Nearby residents endured a difficult night, shaken by loud explosions, watching the developments unfold on TV.

Just before midnight, Israeli warplanes targeted Lailaki, Mrayjeh, Haret Hreik, and Burj al-Barajneh, destroying several residential buildings.

Reports indicated that eight buildings were destroyed in Mrayjeh, along with others not listed on the Israeli evacuation maps.

No casualties were reported from the strikes in the southern suburbs, but Lebanon’s Health Ministry said at least 95 people were killed and 172 injured in Israeli strikes on southern Lebanon, the Bekaa Valley, and Beirut in the past 24 hours.



With Israeli Tanks on the Ground, Lebanese Unable to Bury Dead

Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, who was displaced from Beit Lif in southern Lebanon saying there was tank fire around when he tried to venture into his home last week after the truce between Israel and Hezbollah, stands next to belongings in Tyre, southern Lebanon November 30, 2024. REUTERS/Aziz Taher
Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, who was displaced from Beit Lif in southern Lebanon saying there was tank fire around when he tried to venture into his home last week after the truce between Israel and Hezbollah, stands next to belongings in Tyre, southern Lebanon November 30, 2024. REUTERS/Aziz Taher
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With Israeli Tanks on the Ground, Lebanese Unable to Bury Dead

Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, who was displaced from Beit Lif in southern Lebanon saying there was tank fire around when he tried to venture into his home last week after the truce between Israel and Hezbollah, stands next to belongings in Tyre, southern Lebanon November 30, 2024. REUTERS/Aziz Taher
Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, who was displaced from Beit Lif in southern Lebanon saying there was tank fire around when he tried to venture into his home last week after the truce between Israel and Hezbollah, stands next to belongings in Tyre, southern Lebanon November 30, 2024. REUTERS/Aziz Taher

When a ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah came into effect last week, Lebanese hotelier Abbas al-Tannoukhi leapt at the chance to bury a dead relative in their southern hometown of Khiyam, battered for weeks by intense clashes.

Tannoukhi's cousin had been killed in one of the final Israeli airstrikes on Beirut's suburbs before Wednesday's ceasefire, which stipulated an end to fighting so residents on both sides of the border could return home.

But with Israeli troops still deployed in southern Lebanon, Tannoukhi coordinated his movements with Lebanon's army. Last Friday, he and his relatives pulled into the family graveyard in Khiyam, six km (four miles) from the border, with an ambulance carrying his cousin's body.

"We just needed 30 minutes (to bury her)," Tannoukhi, 54, said. "But we were surprised when Israeli tanks encircled us - and that's when the gunfire started."

Tannoukhi fled with his relatives on foot through the brush, wounding his hand as he scrambled between rocks and olive groves to reach safety at a checkpoint operated by Lebanese troops.

Soon afterwards, they tried to reach the graveyard again but said they were fired on a second time. Shaky footage filmed by Tannoukhi features sprays of gunfire.

"We couldn't bury her. We had to leave her body there in the ambulance. But we will try again," he told Reuters.

The ordeal highlights the bitterness and confusion for residents of southern Lebanon who have been unable to return home because Israeli troops are still present on Lebanese territory.

Israel's military has issued orders to residents of 60 southern Lebanese towns not to return home, saying they are prohibited from accessing their hometowns until further notice.

The US-brokered ceasefire deal grants both Lebanon and Israel the right to self-defense, but does not include provisions on a buffer zone or restrictions for residents.

"Why did we go back? Because there's a ceasefire," Tannoukhi said. "It's a halt to hostilities. And it is a natural right for a son of the south to go to his house."

The Israeli military did not immediately respond to requests for comment.

PEACE OF MIND

The ceasefire brought an end to over a year of hostilities between Israel and Lebanese armed group Hezbollah, which began firing rockets at Israeli military targets in 2023 in support of its Palestinian ally Hamas in Gaza.

Israel went on the offensive in September, bombing swathes of Lebanon's south, east and the southern suburbs of Beirut. More than 1.2 million people fled their homes.

After the 60-day ceasefire came into effect last Wednesday, residents of Beirut's suburbs returned home to vast destruction, and some Lebanese from the south were able to return to homes further away from the border.

But both sides began accusing each other of breaking the deal, with Israel saying suspicious movements in villages along the south constituted violations and Lebanon's army pointing to Israeli tank fire and airstrikes as breaches.

Mustafa Ibrahim al-Sayyed, a father of 12, was hoping to return home to Beit Lif, about two km from the border.

But nearly a week into the ceasefire, he is still living at a displacement shelter near Tyre, a coastal city about 25 km from the border.

He tried to venture home alone last week, but as soon as he arrived, there was tank fire around the town and he received a warning on his phone that his town was in the Israeli military's "no-go" zone.

Sayyed is still stuck in displacement and wants to get home.

"I hope we go back to our town so we can get peace of mind," he said.