One year after a U.S.-brokered ceasefire was meant to silence the guns along the Israel-Lebanon border, the reality on the ground tells a far different story. On Thursday, November 27, 2025, Israeli warplanes unleashed a fresh barrage of airstrikes across southern Lebanon, marking the anniversary of the truce with violence rather than peace, as reported by Xinhua and Anadolu.
The strikes targeted the Al-Mahmoudieh and Al-Jarmaq areas near Jezzine. According to Lebanon’s state-run National News Agency, Israeli aircraft fired 18 air-to-ground missiles at former Hezbollah positions, igniting forest fires and rattling the wider Nabatieh region. Earlier that day, Israeli forces also fired machine guns toward farmers near Al-Wazzani, though mercifully, no injuries were reported. The message was clear: the so-called ceasefire, which took effect on November 27, 2024, after 14 months of brutal fighting sparked by the war in Gaza, is little more than a fragile promise.
Residents along the border live in a state of perpetual anxiety. Faiza Nasr, whose home in Khiam was destroyed last year, described the ongoing uncertainty. “The ceasefire exists only on paper; the land tells a different story,” she told Xinhua. Her family, like many others, keeps their bags packed, always ready to flee at a moment’s notice. “Nothing here feels secure.”
Despite the agreement’s clear terms—calling for a full Israeli withdrawal from southern Lebanon by February 2025—the Israeli military continues to maintain five heavily fortified positions along the border. Israel insists these outposts are necessary to neutralize lingering threats from Hezbollah. Yet, this ongoing presence has prevented the Lebanese army from fully deploying along the United Nations-demarcated Blue Line, fueling frustration and suspicion on both sides.
The human toll of this uneasy calm is mounting. According to the Lebanese Ministry of Health, 339 people have been killed and 978 injured since the ceasefire began, with at least 13 children among the dead, UNICEF reports. Lebanese security sources claim Israel has committed more than 5,000 violations—by land, air, and sea—over the past year alone. The violence is not limited to the south: on Sunday, November 23, 2025, Israel launched a rare airstrike on Beirut’s southern suburbs, killing five people and wounding 28. Among the dead was Haytham Ali Al-Tabtabi, a senior Hezbollah commander whom Israel described as the group’s military chief of staff.
According to Anadolu, the scale of Israel’s military operations since the ceasefire is staggering. The Alma Research and Education Center, an Israeli security institute, reported that 699 airstrikes have been launched across Lebanon in the past year, averaging nearly two attacks per day. Of these, 47% struck south of the Litani River, 38.4% north of it, 13% hit the Bekaa region in eastern Lebanon, and 1.6%—or 11 strikes—targeted Beirut and its surroundings. The majority of these attacks occurred in the first months of the ceasefire, with December 2024 and March 2025 recording the highest numbers, averaging 51 strikes per month.
The roots of this conflict run deep. The ceasefire, reached on November 27, 2024, followed over a year of relentless attacks on both sides, driven by the wider war in Gaza. In that period, more than 4,000 people were killed and 17,000 injured, according to Anadolu. The toll since the ceasefire is lower, but for those living in the border regions, the violence feels relentless and arbitrary. As one Lebanese intelligence official described, the airstrikes have not only targeted suspected Hezbollah positions but have also caused widespread environmental damage, including forest fires that threaten entire communities.
The Israeli military maintains that its operations are aimed at neutralizing Hezbollah’s military infrastructure. The Alma Research and Education Center’s report claimed that 218 Hezbollah operatives have been killed in Israeli attacks since the ceasefire began. Yet, the report also notes, “At this stage, no permanent, continuous, or significant Hezbollah presence or activity is identified along the contact line.” This raises questions about the necessity and proportionality of ongoing Israeli military actions, especially as civilian casualties and infrastructural damage mount.
For many Lebanese, the slow pace of reconstruction is a constant reminder of the conflict’s unresolved nature. As Faiza Nasr explained, Israeli fire often targets the excavation equipment needed to clear debris from destroyed homes and infrastructure. This, in turn, makes it nearly impossible for displaced families to return and rebuild their lives. The sense of insecurity is pervasive, with families living in a state of limbo—never sure if or when the next strike will force them to flee again.
Political analysts warn that, without real international guarantees and effective monitoring, the daily skirmishes and tit-for-tat attacks could easily spiral into a wider war, potentially drawing in Beirut and the eastern regions. The ceasefire, in their view, is a tenuous arrangement propped up by diplomatic platitudes rather than genuine trust or reconciliation. As one analyst put it, “The absence of a credible enforcement mechanism means that both sides act with impunity, and civilians pay the price.”
On the Israeli side, officials argue that the ongoing presence of Hezbollah operatives and the group’s continued rocket capabilities justify their military posture. They point to incidents like the killing of Haytham Ali Al-Tabtabi as evidence that Hezbollah remains a potent threat, even if its activities along the contact line have diminished. However, critics—both within Lebanon and in the international community—counter that Israel’s military actions are excessive and risk inflaming an already volatile situation.
The cycle of violence has also had a profound psychological impact on the region’s children. With at least 13 children killed since the ceasefire, according to UNICEF, and many more injured or traumatized by the ongoing conflict, the prospects for a peaceful future seem increasingly remote. Schools in border areas operate intermittently, and parents struggle to provide a sense of normalcy amid the constant threat of renewed hostilities.
As the ceasefire’s first anniversary passes, the sense of disappointment and disillusionment is palpable on both sides of the border. The agreement, which once held out the promise of lasting peace, now serves as a stark reminder of the limits of diplomacy in the face of deep-seated mistrust and unresolved grievances. For the residents of southern Lebanon and northern Israel, the hope for a genuine end to the violence remains as elusive as ever.
With no sign of a durable solution on the horizon, the region remains trapped in a cycle of fragile truces and sudden escalations—a reality that, for now, shows little sign of changing.
