South Lebanon Stands Defiant in the Face of Mounting Israeli Attacks

In South Lebanon, martyrs are living relics: enduring testaments not only to the savagery of the Israeli occupation but to the willingness to sacrifice all that one holds dear in the interest of true emancipation—to free themselves and their brethren in Palestine from the occupier’s grasp, the people of South Lebanon have offered their blood, willingly and with heads raised. The invocation of their martyrs is the summoning of liberation; it is their own blood that has watered their soil and brought forth life throughout their villages after two decades of Israeli occupation. There is almost no southern Lebanese town or family that hasn’t been touched by Israel’s past or present brutality, but known for their steadfastness, they remain committed to their land and to armed resistance, despite the cost.
Israel’s attacks against South Lebanon have garnered little to no attention outside the region, despite mounting casualties, including most recently three children who were killed while working on a farm in the village of Umm al-Tut. Between massacres, the sonic booms from Israeli planes, a form of psychological warfare, are routinely heard throughout the South, so much so that “we’ve grown accustomed to it” has become a common local refrain.
Bilal, a mechanic from Kherbet Selm, describes returning to his village despite the ongoing airstrikes not as an act of bravery, but resistance. In March, an Israeli airstrike killed a pregnant mother, her husband, and her two children in Bilal’s village, which only strengthened his resolve. “The Israelis believe they can return to the days when they occupied us, as if they own us,” he says. “They kill our children, destroy our crops, and raze our houses, but there is nothing that can tear us from our land and from each other. I will sit on the rubble of my house and rebuild again and again. I swear, so long as I am breathing, I will return to my home.”
The Fanonian principle, that the land brings dignity, is an integral component of the Southern Lebanese spirit and a direct reaction to their material conditions. “The outside world sees our culture as a culture of death,” says Marwa, a schoolteacher from the village of Bint Jbeil. “But our love of life is what motivates us, not death. We mourn not only every martyr, but every home destroyed. Our perseverance isn’t separate from our pain, but at the same time we don’t fear what God has written for us. It’s because we love life that we have resisted the occupation of our land. And we will continue to resist.”