Lebanon experiences bloodiest day in decades

The calls and texts came seemingly randomly to landlines and mobile phones across southern Lebanon and parts of Beirut. Their recipients, exhausted by nearly a year of conflict, had little idea what to expect.

“Hezbollah is forcing the Israeli army to act against its terrorist infrastructure in your villages,” a voice in slightly accented Arabic told the thousands of people contacted on Monday. “The residents of this area must leave their homes immediately… because we do not want to harm you.”

Israel's warnings were similar to those it issued to Palestinians in the Gaza Strip before new offensives, and within hours Lebanon too felt the brunt of the heaviest Israeli bombardment of the country in decades.

According to the Lebanese Health Ministry, the Israeli military attacked hundreds of targets in southern and eastern Lebanon, killing 356 people and injuring more than 1,200.

There has not been a bloodier day in Lebanon since Israeli tanks rolled across the border in 2006 and sparked a 34-day war with Hezbollah.

Panic spread across much of Lebanon during the air strikes on Monday.

Fear had gripped the country since Iran-backed Hezbollah fired rockets into Israel the day after Hamas' deadly attack on southern Israel last October. For many, a land war seemed all but inevitable.

“It's one massacre after another,” said Abboudi, a paramedic in Nabatiyeh, southern Lebanon, who spent the day dodging airstrikes and transporting victims to nearby hospitals.

Monday's violence hit a country still reeling from a civil war in which various sectarian militias brutally abused each other and their respective communities from 1975 to 1990.

When the war ended, Beirut and its social fabric lay in ruins, and the devastation of war was visible in every neighborhood.

The country has since been rocked by outbreaks of violence and instability, not least the devastating war with Israel in 2006 and the explosion at Beirut's port in 2020 that killed more than 200 people, injured thousands more and razed parts of the city to the ground.

Although they are praised for their resilience, Lebanese people often wonder how much more they and their small country can endure.

Lebanon's Health Ministry said on Monday that women, children and paramedics were among the dead. Footage on social media showed them being pulled from the rubble, bleeding and battered.

Tens of thousands of people fled north in a chaotic exodus, crammed into cars that clogged the main road to Beirut, while clouds of smoke rose behind them.

WhatsApp groups were created offering accommodation for the displaced people and schools were converted into emergency shelters.

“We don’t know where to go and my children are hungry,” Abu Ali Ahmad desperately asked a police officer in Beirut after arriving in a pickup truck with his wife and four children.

Others rushed to supermarkets in a panic to stock up on canned goods and fuel, and to run errands they thought they would not be able to do once the war “really” broke out.

University student Abir Hammoud said she was “paralysed with fear” as she waited for her mother to pick her up after classes were cancelled.

With traffic across the city at a standstill, she found solace in donating blood. “I don't know what else to do,” Hammoud said.

Monday marked the culmination of a devastating week for both Lebanon and Hezbollah, its most powerful political and military force.

Mass detonations destroyed the militant group's communications equipment and killed 37 people. An air strike followed on Friday, killing two senior commanders, more than a dozen elite officers and numerous other civilians.

It was a major blow to Hezbollah, undermining its credibility in the eyes of its members and support base. Some in Beirut speculated that Monday's warnings to residents were intended to weaken their spirits even further.

With around 110,000 people already displaced along Lebanon's southern border, it is unclear how many people would be affected by Israel's warnings. However, government figures say several thousand people still live within five kilometers of the border.

Israel accuses Hezbollah of turning entire communities in the south of the country into military zones and of hiding rocket launchers and other infrastructure in the residential areas from which it draws its support.

The Israeli warnings left open the possibility that some residents might be in or near the attacked buildings without knowing they were at risk.

For many, this uncertainty was the straw that broke the camel's back and led them to flee north on Monday.

“I stayed as long as I could, really,” said Nelly Abboud, who packed her car with her three children and left Nabatiyeh to stay with relatives in Beirut. “But I couldn't take it anymore – I don't want to die, I don't want my children to die.”

As they headed north, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu urged the Lebanese people to “immediately leave the danger zone.” “Once our operation is over, you can safely return to your homes,” he said.

“How can we believe anything they say?” Abboud asked. “My parents stayed behind… because they know Israel wants to force them to leave and take away their land. We know that this has been Israel's strategy since day one.”

Data visualization by Steven Bernard