With Israel’s Airstrikes, Beirut Plunges Into Panic

 

 

By Stefanie Glinski

Foreign Policy

 

 BEIRUT—In the early morning hours of Tuesday, thousands of people fleeing Israeli airstrikes in southern and eastern Lebanon poured into the capital of Beirut. Many of them slept by the roadside or in their cars before eventually finding shelter.

Zainab Fnesh, 38, arrived in the capital at 4 a.m. with her husband and six children after a 14-hour, traffic-jammed drive from their village just south of Tyre. All eight of them were crammed into a single car for a trip that usually takes just over an hour. Fnesh said it was the “most terrifying” trip of her life.

“Our apartment block was hit shortly after we left,” Fnesh said of Israeli airstrikes, which came after Iran-backed Hezbollah fired rockets into Israel in support of Hamas. “I was scared they would hit the road, too,” she said, explaining that the family didn’t receive any prior warning. “We left in a rush, barely taking any [belongings] with us. On our way out, we saw constant strikes in the distance. We saw injured on the main highway to Beirut. My children cried for hours. We were all so scared.”

A woman wearing a headscarf holds a young girl with wide eyes in a pink Minnie Mouse shirt.

Zainab Fnesh holds her daugher Rayhana, almost 2, just after their arrival in Beirut on Sept. 24, where they fled after bombings in southern Lebanon.

Monday marked the deadliest day for Lebanon since the 1975-90 civil war. Israeli airstrikes continued through Tuesday as the Israel Defense Forces reported hitting about 1,600 Hezbollah targets and Chief of Staff Herzi Halevi said in morning remarks: “Hezbollah must not be given a break. … We will speed up the offensive operations today.”

But many of those killed and displaced have been civilians like Fnesh. She’s now sheltering in a school with her six children, while her husband raced back to their village to save older relatives left behind. Classes were suspended in Lebanon on Tuesday. Countless people across Beirut have opened up their homes to displaced families, sharing their phone numbers in WhatsApp groups, and many hotels and Airbnbs have lowered their prices to accommodate families forced to flee.

At least 569 people have been killed across the country, including some 50 children, according to Lebanese Health Minister Firass Abiad.

Thousands more were injured and displaced. U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi said on Tuesday that “Israeli airstrikes in Lebanon are now relentlessly claiming hundreds of civilian lives.”

Beirut, too, plunged into a state of panic on Monday after scores of residents had received messages and calls warning them to move away from potential Hezbollah targets. By afternoon, Israeli fighter jets were seen flying overhead.

Businesses and restaurants across the city closed and streets emptied as residents braced themselves, uncertain of what would come next. The usually vibrant city turned eerily quiet. Outside, people greeted one another with reassuring smiles, but few words.

Standing outside a classroom-turned-shelter, Fnesh told Foreign Policy that her family had nowhere to stay long-term in Beirut. “All of our family lives in the south, but I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to return. We have no home to return to.” She was holding her nearly 2-year-old daughter, Rayana. The shelter is chaotic as more people arrive and a few classrooms have been turned into functioning shelters. Most people are exhausted; some sleep on the floor in corners, others on the few mattresses that have already been provided.

Women wearing all black dresses and head coverings stand outside of a shuttered building.

Women gather outside for the funeral in Beirut’s Dahiyeh neighborhood on Sept. 18.

People sleep in small groupings on the bare floor of a classroom at a school.

People who fled southern Lebanon rest in a school-turned-shelter in Beirut on Sept. 24.

A woman in a headscarf and long dress holds a small child waring shorts and a t-shirt on her lap. Next to her is a teenage girl and a boy sitting on a bench. At her feet is a large plastic bag. Behind them is a barred wall.

A family that escaped southern Lebanon wait at a shelter in Beirut on Sept. 24.

As the flow of displaced people into the city continued into Tuesday, aid efforts were quickly ramped up, with government institutions, nonprofits, mosques, churches, and individuals pitching in.

“A few people arrived [Monday] night around 10 p.m. The majority came here in the morning. We now have hundreds of people staying in classrooms here, most of them are women and children,” said Ahmad Jaber, a medic working at the school where Fnesh and her family are staying. “We’re bringing mattresses, blankets, cooking utensils, clothes, and food. Most people fled with few belongings. They need all the help they can get,” he added, standing outside the school’s entrance to register new arrivals.

People open the doors of an ambulance outside a hospital. A soldier and medic are seen at left.

An ambulance arrives at a Beirut hospital on Sept. 18 after pagers belonging to Hezbollah operatives exploded across the country.

Beirut, still reeling from last week’s attacks, was unprepared for this week’s influx of displaced people. Hospitals were already overwhelmed with patients injured when Hezbollah pagers and walkie-talkies exploded across the country; now the fragile health care system is gearing up to deal with scores of injured people evacuated from the south and east, where Israeli strikes have been most intense. While traffic jams still clog the roads into Beirut, few cars are heading south—except for ambulances racing that way to rescue the injured.

An airstrike that hit Beirut’s Dahiyeh district last Friday also killed at least 45 people. Among the dead were 16 Hezbollah militants. Scores more were injured.

Children and a woman in a headscarf look down on a funeral procession from a balcony.

People look down on a funeral procession for three men and an 8-year-old boy killed in the pager attacks, in Dahiyeh on Sept. 18.

A large crowd of people, some carrying yellow flags, fill the street for a funeral procession. A coffin can be seen in the middle of the scene. Powerlines criss cross over the crowd and people look out from windows above.

A large crowd of people, some carrying Hezbollah flags, take part in the funeral procession in Beirut on Sept. 18 for those killed in the pager attacks.

A boy holds a yellow flag on a short ple and looks at the camera. Seated around him are dozens of other people with buildings behind and around them.

5-year-old Hussain holds a Hezbollah flag at the funeral in Dahiyeh on Sept. 18.

On Tuesday, another airstrike hit the same area, killing six people and injuring 15—with Israel saying that the strike killed Ibrahim Qubaisi, the head of Hezbollah’s rocket unit.

Hezbollah continues to fire rockets into Israel, with the group issuing a statement on Tuesday claiming a drone attack on Israel’s Atlit naval base.

In his last address to the United Nations General Assembly, U.S. President Joe Biden warned against a “full-scale war” in Lebanon, saying that it wasn’t in anyone’s interest.

But across Lebanon, people are worried that the red line has already been crossed. “This war has already escalated,” said Khodr Mahmoud, a 55-year-old man who had just arrived in Beirut. Mahmoud sits in a wheelchair; a strike to his house during the 2006 Lebanon war injured him and left him paralyzed. “I’m worried we could be seeing this conflict escalate even more than it did back then,” he added. He paused and then lit a cigarette. “This feels familiar and very scary.”

A man in a wheelchair sits on a concrete surface. Two open doorways with tile inside are seen behind him.

Khodr Mahmoud, pictured in Beirut on Sept. 24, was injured and left paralyzed during the 2006 Lebanon war. He had to flee his house again this week when heavy bombardments hit his village in southern Lebanon.