Displaced people rest in a school in Beirut, Sept. 26, 2024. (Credit: AFP)
Entire families have found refuge at the foot of a daycare turned reception center in the Clemenceau neighborhood. A tattooed giant rushed out of the establishment. The man in the black shirt had a sad look and red eyes. He could barely speak. "It all comes down to one sentence: We had two gods. One is dead," he said before hopping on his motorcycle.
Three hours after the party confirmed the assassination of Hezbollah's Secretary-General, Hassan Nasrallah, the air was heavy on Michel Chiha Street in Beirut. On Saturday, Sept. 28, Lebanon began a new chapter in its history. Nasrallah fell as a "martyr" on Friday evening during an Israeli strike in the southern suburb of Beirut. It's too early to talk, too early to think about what comes next. "Come back in a few days; it's not the time to talk," said a man guarding the entrance of the establishment, where visitors are carefully screened.
Across the street, a crowded parking lot no longer accepts cars. Amin sat on his motorcycle, chatting with three other men. The day before, the soldier couldn't believe rumors that the "Sayyed" had been assassinated. "We were praying. We hoped it was psychological warfare. And we were waiting for the official statement," recounted the 30 year old.
But around 2:30 p.m., the rumors were confirmed. Hassan Nasrallah had been killed by Israel. "When we learned of his martyrdom, it felt like we died with him," Amin said, having left the southern suburbs of Beirut on Friday evening, just before an unprecedented wave of Israeli strikes. It's news he still "cannot believe."
"We're not the only ones who are sad; everyone with a conscience is as well," he added. But the grief quickly gave way to something else. For him and his friends, the "resistance" will emerge "stronger than ever."
"The blood of the Sayyed will lead to total victory, to the disappearance of Israel, the cancer of this region!" he exclaimed. The "Resistance" can "continue" without him, he assured. "It doesn't stop at one man. The Sayyed was the father of all martyrs. They told us to be patient. That’s what we will do."
The four men await the next leadership. "The choice of command will definitely be the right one. His martyrdom is a very deep wound that will remain with us forever, like that of Abbas Moussaoui [Hassan Nasrallah's predecessor before he was killed on Feb. 16, 1992] for my father's generation. But the next leader, we will love him and be at his service just as we were for the Sayyed," he asserted.
'Why did you kill the Sayyed?'
Not far away, in another school turned makeshift shelter, the playground was packed with people. Displaced people reportedly forced their way in to settle there, claimed an employee of the establishment. Dalal Yassine and her husband share a classroom with four other family members. They fled Houmin Tahta [Nabatieh district] when Israel launched a large-scale military operation in Lebanon on Monday, resulting in nearly 600 deaths in a single day, while clashes had previously been mainly confined to southern Lebanon.
In this school, tensions peaked early in the afternoon when the party's statement was released. "Some even turned on the army, which was present at the scene. We tried to calm them down." recounted Dalal. "Others, looking up to the sky, started shouting, 'Why did you kill the Sayyed?' Women lamented, beating their heads. We remained in that state for an hour and a half," continued the 60-something woman.
To her, "the death of Hassan Nasrallah is like the Imam Hussein [the Prophet's grandson and a central figure in Shiism] dying a second time. To me, there's God and then the Sayyed," she insisted. "It’s our faith that has helped me regain my composure. I tell myself he is in paradise with Imam Hussein. You know, we love martyrdom," she said, showing a photo of what is claimed to be the Sayyed's ring without its precious stone, found "where he died."
In almost a year, the cost of the conflict is already very high for Lebanon, with 1,640 people killed, including 104 children and 194 women, not counting the number of those missing under the rubble. 8,404 were injured and one million were displaced. To the popular base of the "Resistance," the loss of Nasrallah was the loss of someone who "represented everything."
"Only God knows if this war is worth the price we've paid. But I fear Lebanon will become like Gaza," stated Dalal. She still hopes for the impossible. From the window, she began to hear shouts of joy. "I hope he is alive, I hope he is alive," she prayed. "I can't believe it; I can't accept it."
Suddenly, a voice echoed between the walls: "He is alive. He is alive." Dalal jumped from her chair and rushed to the window. The balconies were filled with displaced people. Women were ululating. The crowd shouted, "Labaika [at your service] ya Nasrallah." Gunfire rang out in the neighborhood and in the school. "Who just fired out the window? Come down immediately!" ordered a displaced man.
The gunfire continued. Outside, a man delivered the bad news again: "There’s nothing; he is not alive."
This article was originally published in L'Orient-Le Jour.
