Dozens of Lebanese mourners gathered on Thursday as they buried their loved ones, victims of the recent Israeli airstrike on Barja, just north of Sidon. The tragedy struck Tuesday night, when aerial bombardments targeted an apartment building, leading to at least 30 deaths, many belonging to the Basma family who were seeking refuge from earlier attacks. The airstrikes have intensified the already suffering country’s pain, igniting memories of past conflicts and instilling fear among the residents.
Speaking amid the grief, Hassan Basma lamented the loss of not only his brother and nephew but also his sister just the week before. Many, like Khadija Daramsis, who performed the ritual washing of the deceased, found themselves grappling with the heartbreaking task of preparing familial bodies for burial. “They told me they were afraid of the strikes, and then they were hit,” she recounted with tears streaming down her face. “What were they involved in? Were they part of the resistance or Hezbollah?”
Isolated and deeply affected, residents expressed their anguish and confusion over the reasons behind the strikes. Israel claims its military efforts target Hezbollah and its capabilities; nevertheless, the lack of warnings during the bombing leads many to question the justification for such devastating actions. Khalil Basma, reflecting on the increasing violence, described this phase of conflict as the worst he has experienced throughout all of Lebanon’s wars. “With all the wars we’ve endured, this is, sadly, the first time we witness such acts,” he stated emphatically.
Meanwhile, the cultural heritage of Lebanon becomes the focus of another troubling narrative. Over the last 40 days, various regions across Lebanon, including historical cities such as Baalbek, have witnessed relentless destruction. The Israeli military offensive—sparked by escalated tensions—has reportedly resulted in the obliteration of entire neighborhoods, leaving behind ruins where communities once thrived.
According to the Lebanese National News Agency, upwards of 40,000 housing units have been flattened since the conflict escalated on October 8. These harsh figures reflect not merely losses of structures but the erasure of histories and identities tied to these places. Areas like Aita Shaab and Kafr Kila bear the brunt of this devastation, with satellite analysis indicating staggering levels of damage.
Rather than mere collateral damage, the destruction seems calculated, going beyond military targets to encompass cultural touchstones deeply woven within Lebanon’s national fabric. The cities boast history—centuries old—with communities embracing revolution against colonial and imperial forces. For many elderly residents, the figures of national leaders remain alive, possessing the hope of resistance. Unfortunately, their homes are being reduced to ashes.
Israel’s strategy during its campaign appears twofold—aiming not merely to eliminate military threats but also to dismantle the cultural and historical narratives of the Lebanese people. Infrastructure and cultural sites are not exempt from the destruction; key amenities such as water systems, telecommunications, and electricity grids suffer significant hits, highlighting the efforts to undermine Lebanon’s societal resilience.
Tyre, revered for its rich and storied past, falls victim to the onslaught as well. The bombardments not only damage residential areas but also threaten to raze prized sites to the ground. Among these are the centuries-old Roman ruins near the Baalbek Citadel—historical markers recognized by UNESCO as irreplaceable treasures.
The dire situation prompted the Lebanese government to formally appeal to UNESCO to intervene and protect its heritage. By late October, the extent of damage reported reached almost 10,000 buildings, fundamentally impacting urban life and cultural memory, indicative of Israel’s intentions to shift the narrative surrounding resilience and resistance.
The deliberate targeting of both cultural landmarks and residential areas reflects strategies to impart psychological devastation, coupled with grave humanitarian consequences. The actions can be likened to the notorious “Dahiye Doctrine,” wherein excessive force is employed to deter and demoralize local populations, drawing stark parallels to historical events like the catastrophic bombing of Guernica during Spain’s Civil War. Such associations bring to light the cost of aiming for cultural eradication intertwined with military objectives.
Effectively, the situation showcases how war is not only fought on the battlefield but within the hearts and minds of communities. Each building leveled, each site destroyed, serves as both loss and symbol—a continuous attempt to transform and suppress narratives anchored deeply within the lives of those who belong to them.
Over time, the consequences of this relentless campaign will echo through generations. Families are uprooted from their homes, now barren and hazardous zones, forcing many to seek refuge within or outside national borders. Resettlement remains murky; conditions can hardly return to normal, with entire regions facing the hazard of remaining uninhabitable.
Even the prospect of ceasefire does not spell relief for the displaced citizens. The aftereffects of damages wrought during the conflict would impose significant challenges to rebuilding livelihoods and reclaiming histories previously woven together. That specter of sectarian displacement remains, igniting concerns about Lebanon’s fragile demographic balance which could unravel if communities cannot return to their ancestral homes.
Israel’s overwhelming airstrikes and ground invasion have started to reshape the character of Lebanon, determined not just to address military threats but to push forth the narrative of historical erasure. This strategy, perhaps, contains the broader goal of upending resistance movements historically rooted within the land.
Faced with overwhelming destruction, the cultural fabric of Lebanon hangs precariously, threatened by loss of both life and heritage. The actions may instigate physical outcry against external forces, but they also challenge the cultural memory and shared histories of individuals who have long resisted external dominion. The question remains—how do societies reclaim their history when forced to contend not only with warfare but the erasure of their very identity?
