BEIRUT (Reuters): In south Lebanon, Hezbollah’s yellow flag fluttered atop a vast pile of rubble that was once part of Nabatieh’s old market. In eastern Lebanon, rubble also marks the spot where a historic building once stood near Baalbek’s ancient ruins.
Since Israel and Hezbollah ceased fire on Wednesday, people have been taking stock of devastation across wide areas of the country hammered by Israeli attacks – from Beirut’s southern suburbs to the southern border region and the Bekaa Valley.
In Baalbek, in the Bekaa Valley near the Syrian border, Hamza al Outa’s home was one of around a dozen buildings destroyed in one neighborhood alone. Twisted rebar poked out of piles of rubble and broken masonry.
“These buildings can be rebuilt. They’re not important. But our loved ones, friends, neighbors, companions, people. The homeland has been destroyed,” he said, behind him the ground scarred by deep holes.
The Israeli army has said its strikes in the Baalbek area targeted Hezbollah, the heavily armed Lebanese group which had been trading fire with Israel for almost a year until Israel went on the offensive in September, striking across Lebanon.
Like Lebanon’s south and Beirut’s southern suburbs, Baalbek is a predominantly Shia Muslim region, and Hezbollah has big political sway in the area.
Israeli strikes killed 940 people and wounded another 1,520 in the Baalbek-Hermel region, said Bachir Khodr, its governor. This amounts to almost a quarter of the country-wide death toll announced so far by the Lebanese government.
Khodr said Israel mounted 1,260 airstrikes in the province.
Baalbek is known for its ancient Roman ruins – a UNESCO World Heritage site. Lebanese culture ministry officials are expected to inspect for damage next week.
One Israeli strike destroyed an Ottoman-era building known as al-Manshiya just a stone’s throw from the ruins.
Outa owned a large-scale kitchen next to his home, which he said catered for big events and functioned as a soup kitchen for the poor during the Islamic holy month of Ramadan, feeding 2,500 people per day. “Are there rockets in this kitchen?” he said, inspecting the damage.
One man salvaged a laptop bag and a backpack from the trunk of a crumpled car. “This is what we make rockets from,” he said, smiling sarcastically as he stood atop a piece of rubble and held the bags aloft for journalists to see.
‘Everything is lost’
Khodr, the governor, said: “We’re healing the wound … sadness prevails in this area.”
“We have hundreds of destroyed buildings … the big question that’s worrying people is the subject of reconstruction: until now we have nothing clear on this subject,” he said. The government is expected to do “what’s necessary,” he added.
The World Bank, in a preliminary assessment, estimated more than 99,000 homes have been fully or partially damaged, costing an estimated $2.8 billion. It is a bill which the Lebanese state, still reeling from the collapse of Lebanon’s financial system five years ago, cannot afford to pay.
In Nabatieh in the south, Jalal Nasser smoked a water pipe as he sat amidst the ruins of his cafe, saying he had an “indescribable feeling” when he returned to find the damage done to his business.
But despite this, he praised what he described as “the victory”, saying “we are still standing on our feet.”
Hassan Wazni, director of Nabatieh hospital, said parts of the city were unrecognizable due to the destruction. His hospital received some 1,200 casualties during the war, he added. “Nabatieh is totally different. It’s very sad. We feel shocked about everything,” he said by phone.
Clouds of dust rose up as Omar Bakhit, a Sudanese man who has lived in Nabatiyeh for 21 years, picked up chunks of broken masonry with his bare hands.
“Everything is destroyed, the house and the things, as you can see,” said Bakhit. “Everything is lost.”