An Italian UNIFIL soldier in front of the Notre-Dame church in Ain Ibel, on March 16. (Credit: Lucile Wassermann/L’Orient-Le Jour)
The predominantly Christian villages of southern Lebanon have once again become isolated enclaves, fragmented along the border and linked by narrow, steep roads rarely traveled after dark. Their residents are there, clinging to the flowered slopes of their land. To reach those enclaves, one must pass through about 10 Shiite-majority villages — with their gray buildings scarred by relentless Israeli strikes, abandoned villas, laundry still hanging from windows.In these enclaves, thousands strive to live "normally" in a country where normalcy has long vanished. Yet everyone knows the truth: the next incident, tragedy or strategic miscalculation could erase it all. In 2024, the oldest residents and some of the youth remain rooted to their land like vines. In Ain Ibl, in the Bint Jbeil district, the cries of children and the toll...
The predominantly Christian villages of southern Lebanon have once again become isolated enclaves, fragmented along the border and linked by narrow, steep roads rarely traveled after dark. Their residents are there, clinging to the flowered slopes of their land. To reach those enclaves, one must pass through about 10 Shiite-majority villages — with their gray buildings scarred by relentless Israeli strikes, abandoned villas, laundry still hanging from windows.In these enclaves, thousands strive to live "normally" in a country where normalcy has long vanished. Yet everyone knows the truth: the next incident, tragedy or strategic miscalculation could erase it all. In 2024, the oldest residents and some of the youth remain rooted to their land like vines. In Ain Ibl, in the Bint Jbeil district, the cries of children and the...