Even before the Israeli military began their ground incursions into Lebanon’s south, and Iran launched its barrage of missiles towards Israel, tension has been ratcheting up by the hour here in Beirut.
Hamra Street was once known as the Lebanese capital’s Champs Élysées, a bustling hub, lined with cafes and restaurants, home to hotels, fashionable shops, nightclubs, and the American University. It is at once a symbol of the city’s glamorous, cosmopolitan past, its untapped potential, and the grim realities of the present in this long-suffering country.
Driving along this storied boulevard in the early hours of Saturday morning, Lebanon’s dire humanitarian situation was laid starkly clear. As the sound of explosions in the city’s south pierced the air, a crowd outside an abandoned building forced the traffic to a near stop. A man battered down the empty structure’s iron gate, and a flood of displaced people swept in seeking shelter. As they did so, a fresh wave of arrivals pulled up. Visibly exhausted women emerged from the cars, hauling kids, blankets, and mattresses with them.
Similar scenes were playing out across the still-untouched western suburbs of the city, as Israeli warplanes pummeled those in its south. On the palm-tree lined Corniche that curves along Beirut’s seafront, children wearing pajamas wandered the streets, snaking aimlessly through double-parked cars. Women cradled sleeping babies and toddlers, while others chatted on the curb, or lay asleep on benches and on the ground.
Across Lebanon’s war-torn history, this is the biggest internal displacement crisis the country has ever seen. Up to a million people are believed to have been forced into moving in recent days, and many of them are now on Beirut’s streets. Of course, people in this unique city are used to putting on a brave face, but there are glimpses of anxiety beneath the bravado. “We’re OK! I’m sure our home is OK. There’s nothing to worry about,” one woman in her early 60s told a group of people gathered around her.
Evacuation orders have given residents little time to run in search of safety. As we crisscrossed Beirut in our car, the Israeli military issued fresh orders for residents to leave some southern suburbs. One such neighborhood was Bourj el Barajneh, a densely populated area that includes a Palestinian refugee camp and is home to many poorer migrants. Less than 30 minutes later, IDF strikes began.
Days later, we met many of those who had been rendered homeless in a matter of minutes. In a small park in Beirut’s upscale downtown we found Lebanese, Syrians and migrant workers from Bangladesh and Ethiopia sleeping on benches and on the ground. None had heard the evacuation orders; it was the intense airstrikes that forced them to flee with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.
Even in the relative safety of central Beirut, children told us they were still scared. Eight-year-old Batool described a night of horror she escaped with her mother. “The roof was falling on our heads,” she said. “I just want the war to end.”
There are no toilets or showers for the hundreds who are now packed in the park, but the hastily set up government shelters are overcrowded and most, like Batool’s mother, have no place to turn but the streets.
Down towards the border, residents of 27 villages were told by IDF to evacuate to the north of the Al Awali river, which for some is as much as 30 miles away. Many more will soon be in search of shelter.
Fast forward to Tuesday night, as news of Iran’s brazen retaliatory attack on Israel began to filter through, the streets of southern Beirut rang out to the sounds of cheers and celebratory gunfire. It was a small moment of celebration that Hezbollah’s supporters have craved after its aura of invincibility was decimated in a matter of days.
This was “a serious attack” on Israel and there will be “serious consequences”, IDF spokesperson Daniel Hagari told Israelis. Iran in turn warned of “crushing attacks” if retaliation occurred. No one yet knows what form any retaliation would take, but the fear of what a new and even more dangerous chapter in this widening regional crisis might bring will be felt most keenly by those who can only watch, wait, and hope they do not pay the price.
As Israel was under attack from Iran, there appeared to be a lull in the airstrikes. But within a few hours more Israeli evacuation orders were followed by fresh airstrikes in the southern suburbs. More people now homeless in the middle of a windy and rainy night in Beirut as this seemingly endless cycle of violence and misery continues.
* Jomana Karadsheh is an International Correspondent with CNN
