The old Saida road that passes through the city of Hadath, Sept. 23, 2025. (Credit: Mohammad Yassine/L’Orient-Le Jour)
“From here, we could see the strikes and hear the destruction, knowing we would be spared because we are on the demarcation line. But I wonder how those 'down below' were able to endure it,” said Zeina, the lively owner of a plastic tableware and dishware shop near the old Saida road.During last year's all-out war between Israel and Hezbollah, Israel bombed Hadath, in Beirut's southern suburbs, nearly every day, with one exception: all the strikes hit just one side of the road, sharply tracing — by fire — a border already embedded in people’s minds between the predominantly Christian part of the city and the predominantly Shiite one.Zeina’s shop stands equidistant between two worlds that touch but rarely mingle. The border is invisible, but on the Christian side, some want it to be more tangible. From Burj al-Barajneh...
“From here, we could see the strikes and hear the destruction, knowing we would be spared because we are on the demarcation line. But I wonder how those 'down below' were able to endure it,” said Zeina, the lively owner of a plastic tableware and dishware shop near the old Saida road.During last year's all-out war between Israel and Hezbollah, Israel bombed Hadath, in Beirut's southern suburbs, nearly every day, with one exception: all the strikes hit just one side of the road, sharply tracing — by fire — a border already embedded in people’s minds between the predominantly Christian part of the city and the predominantly Shiite one.Zeina’s shop stands equidistant between two worlds that touch but rarely mingle. The border is invisible, but on the Christian side, some want it to be more tangible. From Burj...
