Beirut awakes to a new dawn with no Israeli bombing or eviction orders

The Lebanese capital has suffered through multiple crises in recent years and will now have to rebuild

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After Israel carried out one last bombing campaign across Beirut, the arrival of the Israel-Hezbollah ceasefire at 4am on Wednesday was not met with night-time silence but celebratory gunfire.

A cautious calm followed, coupled with a sense of relief as dawn broke. Just hours earlier Israel had launched one of its heaviest assaults on the Lebanese capital since the war began, issuing widespread eviction notices that sparked panic. Any jubilance at the pause in fighting was tempered by the collective trauma suffered by the city and the challenge of rebuilding that lies ahead.

But there was optimism that the worst may have passed and elation at no longer needing to follow eviction orders issued by the Arabic-language spokesman for the Israeli army.

“A lot of people died … I don’t care for the houses because we already lost three, but I feel for the people,” said Mohammed Al Ayan, a Beirut resident originally from south Lebanon. “I am a different person today. You feel something you cannot describe.”

He said he had ventured into Beirut's southern suburbs at 4.30am where he saw jubilant locals returning to their homes, despite much of the area having been flattened by bombings in recent months.

Lebanon has suffered through recurring crises in recent years, including economic ruin, a huge explosion at a port in 2020 that killed 200 people, Covid-19 and now war, Mr Al Ayan added. “All the time we are dealing with these sort of events," he said.

Serge Chehab, 87, expressed cautious optimism that the ceasefire would hold but said Lebanon needed a new political direction that would lead to real change.

“Look at the TV and see how people are returning home. What a rush!” he told The National.

Helen, a domestic worker who moved to Lebanon in 2005, said she felt great pain for the “innocent people” who had been killed in the war.

“Last night was crazy,” she said, referring to Israel’s final blitz of the city before the ceasefire took effect. “It’s like you fell down and then are up again ... It’s inside here in our hearts – the happiness ... I dreamt of this. We need to go celebrate.”

An electronics store manager who gave his name only as Maroun was cautious about the future. “Today is a good day. But in this country, you never know what is next,” he said.

While there was disgust at Israel's bombardment of the city, opinions varied wildly among ordinary Lebanese towards Hezbollah, the Iran-backed Shiite group that has fought Israel for more than a year.

Hezbollah supporters have argued the ceasefire is a victory, with Israel's powerful military struggling to gain ground against a disciplined and well-trained armed group. But detractors have said Hezbollah dragged Lebanon into a war not of its choosing.

“It's time for [Hezbollah] to find a new leader – modern who thinks about the Lebanese, not following Iran's instructions,” said Omar, who gave only his first name. “They lost too much this time, I hope they are more realistic now.”

Almost all of Lebanon has felt the devastation wreaked by Israel, but none more so than its Shiite population. Entire Shiite villages, towns and districts have been levelled, with Israel killing whole families often in pursuit of a singular figure.

“Israel had two targets; to kill Hezbollah; and deep inside, even if they don’t announce it, they don't want any Shiite to go back to the south. But we are back,” said the shopkeeper Mr Al Ayan.

Thousands of people forced to leave south Lebanon by the fighting were making their way back on Wednesday despite warnings from the Israeli army not to return.

Even before the war, Lebanon had been crippled by one of the worst economic crises in modern times. In 2006, when Israel and Hezbollah fought another all-out war, the country could rely largely on money from the Gulf to rebuild. But ties with the region have soured in recent years and it is unclear where money will come from for reconstruction.

Mr Al Ayan said his business was at only 35 per cent of its usual capacity as customers had dried up and stayed away from the capital due to the conflict.

“I wasn’t sad about my work, I was sad for my country," he told The National. "I knew the war would end and people will be back.”