South Lebanon's historic sites caught in the crossfire between Israel and Hezbollah

Castles and fortresses of the strategic region such as Beaufort have been a battleground for centuries

Beaufort Castle looks down on Deir Mimas Monastery, demolished in the 2006 war and rebuilt in 2008 with Qatari funds. It is now inaccessible to the inhabitants of Deir Mimas, as Israel regularly strikShow more

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For nearly a thousand years, Beaufort Castle in south Lebanon, perched on top of a steep rock overlooking northern Israel, has stood as wars raged.

The sultan Salah Al Din would capture it from Crusaders in 1190 after gathering his troops in nearby Marjayoun, holding it for 50 years before the Barons' Crusade took control.

“The castle has a long story, starting from before the Crusaders,” says Nakad, a resident in the village of Deir Mimas, situated opposite Beaufort across a steep, narrow valley.

“In that time the other castles – in Tebnine and one in Syria – were communicating by fire. The castle in Tebnine would send a message by fire that would be received here,” he says, referring to a fortress to the west.

Asked if he had watched the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy, where the kingdom of Gondor calls for aid from Rohan by lighting a series of signal beacons, Nakad laughs. “They took [inspiration] from normal life.”

The castle, also known as Qal'at Al Shaqif, was part of a network but is the largest and most important, says Jean Yasmine, a conservation architect who was the manager of a restoration project at Beaufort between 2001 and 2015.

The Mamluks would take command many years later, while more recently the Palestine Liberation Organisation held it in the early years of the 1975-1990 Lebanese Civil War – until it was heavily shelled, seized and occupied by Israeli forces. The damaged fortress would be turned into an Israeli forward operating base, coming under heavy fire from Hezbollah. The Israeli military would then relinquish control in 2000, fleeing back across the border under heavy pressure from Hezbollah.

Beaufort has since become a tourist attraction, with its varied history and imposing views proving popular with tour groups and locals alike. But since October 8, when hostilities broke out between Hezbollah and Israel, the castle has once again found itself a victim and observer of war.

Now, the site is derelict, its car park empty and the guard booth closed. A gate has been drawn shut at the entrance and access is only possible through a hole in the mesh at the side. From the castle everything can be seen – the rolling hills in south Lebanon up to the border only a few kilometres away, the heavily bombed town of Khiam, then moving on into Israeli territory, including the settlement of Metula and Mount Hermon.

During the hour The National spent at the site this week, at least five loud bangs rang through the air at the top of the hill – a mixture of Israeli and Hezbollah attacks and Israeli fighter jets breaking the sound barrier.

In modern times, Beaufort has a distinct tactical advantage: a high elevation, close to the Israeli border and with superior views. But in ancient times, Mr Yasmine says, the position “controlled the road that links the coast and the hinterlands. You had caravan roads that went along the Litani River that were directly under the castle.”

Before it was a castle, there was a tower that could observe armies moving. “We never imagined it could witness a war again,” he adds.

Merhej Shamma, 66, the deputy mayor of Deir Mimas, points to a series of scorch marks just below the castle where Israel bombed an alleged Hezbollah launch site. The valley, widely believed to be somewhere the Lebanese armed group and political party used to launch attacks, has repeatedly been bombed by Israel. So much so that ancient Deir Mimas monastery is barely visited by residents of the town because they fear for their safety.

Beaufort overlooks the more than 600-year-old monastery, with the castle easy to make out from Deir Mimas. On December 23 last year, Israel bombed the monastery. It had been flattened in 2006, the last time Israel and Hezbollah fought a full-on war, before being rebuilt with Qatari funds.

Deir Mimas, a lush small town carved into the hillside two miles from Israel, has not been bombed, but the areas around it have. The town is famed for its olives and olive oil, yet, only weeks ago, an orchard only 100 metres away was hit.

Mr Shamma took The National to a place on the outskirts of the town with a good view of the monastery and the castle, but there was unease at the site, overlooking an orchard. “This is the perfect place to talk. But if you hurry, it will be better,” he said.

Sunday prayers no longer take place at the monastery, Mr Shamma says. When a resident of Deir Mimas dies, it remains important to bury them in the monastery. But to do so safely, officials have to contact the UN peacekeeping mission in Lebanon (Unifil), who then inform the Israelis. Only two cars are used, the deceased is hastily laid to rest, and they return from the monastery about 500 metres away. Someone had been buried that morning.

“We cannot go there because perhaps the Israeli planes will strike us. It’s very dangerous,” said Mr Shamma. “Even the farmers cannot go down to their businesses.”

Walking through the town, with its steep narrow roads and lanes, Nakad comes to a square at the centre. “This is downtown,” he says with a laugh as his dog bounds over, perhaps excited at a rare visitor. Mr Shamma greets locals who have stayed behind, as fruit, water and other beverages are offered. Some people have left, while those who live abroad but normally come for the summer have not visited. Mr Shamma's family is not in Deir Mimas because of the security situation.

“Depression,” says Mr Shamma when asked to describe the mood in the village. “People are waiting. The farmers, they have land. They want to go farm, they want food, to work, they want money. Everything has stopped.”

Last month, Israel said it had launched a series of pre-emptive strikes on Hezbollah positions across south Lebanon, ahead of the group's long-awaited retaliation for the assassination of a senior military commander, Fouad Shukr, in Beirut. Among the sites hit was Beaufort, or at least a position just below it. But the castle, an observer and participant in war for hundreds of year, remains standing, even if empty.

“This castle means survival, defending everything that comes to us,” says Mr Shamma. “It’s all about Lebanon – all of Lebanon has something old and historic.”