south lebanon —
As I was driving south along the coastal road in southern Lebanon, the Lebanese and Hezbollah flags that lined the road suddenly switched to Israeli flags. You will soon see an Israeli checkpoint. There, soldiers stand guard from the balconies of shrapnel-riddled houses.
Then the landscape becomes flat, and villages and villages and houses are reduced to rubble.
This is what Lebanon looks like under Israeli occupation.
CNN gained rare access by joining a convoy of residents who were allowed to pass through the occupied territory and head to their homes in three Christian-majority villages. They escaped the fate of the surrounding Shiite Muslim villages, which are now reduced to wasteland.
Israel invaded southern Lebanon in March after the Iranian-backed Lebanese Shiite militant group Hezbollah resumed attacks on Israel in retaliation for the assassination of Iran’s supreme leader Ayatollah Khamenei. Since then, Israeli forces have occupied an area about 10 kilometers (6.2 miles) deep to establish a so-called “safe zone” to protect residents in northern Israel from the threat of rocket attacks from Hezbollah.
Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz has vowed to destroy all homes in villages near the border. The evidence is clear on the ground.
Most villages have been systematically destroyed by Israeli forces, and residents of the remaining Christian villages said they hear of controlled destruction in neighboring communities on a daily basis.
More than 4,300 people have been killed in Israeli airstrikes since March 2, according to the Lebanese Ministry of Health, and the United Nations says more than 350,000 people remain displaced since the Israeli occupation began.
As our journey continues, the road winds through apocalyptic terrain until life reappears out of nowhere. Buildings remain intact, cars pass by, children ride bicycles, and life appears to be going on as normal.
However, the reality is more complicated than it seems.
The villages of Rumeish, Ain Eber, and Deber have largely escaped Israeli shelling and destruction, but their residents, almost all Christian, are cut off from the rest of Lebanon and cannot enter or leave unless they join UN-led convoys.
The Catholic nonprofit Caritas, which helps organize some of the convoys, must seek permission for each resident from the Israeli military through a U.S.-led oversight mechanism. Approval is usually granted, but convoys can be delayed or canceled, and journeys can take anywhere from a few hours to a full day.
Ronnie and Rita Allam fled Rumeish with their two daughters in March as Israeli shelling intensified around them. They rented a house in Beirut, which strained their finances. CNN met Ronnie as he drove his wife and daughters back to Lemaish for the first time in four months. However, Ronnie has to return to work in Beirut.
Rita became emotional and said, “I’m happy to be back home, but I’m unhappy because my husband isn’t with me.”
“Our family has been separated,” she said, wiping away tears. “There are four of us, but now there will be three.”
Although the ceasefire is technically in effect, daily Israeli attacks continue in southern Lebanon. Israel claims this is allowed under the latest ceasefire agreement.
Despite the risks, Ronnie said he had no real financial option but to send his family back to their village.
“Civilians have nothing to do with this. Why should they lose their homes? This destruction is shameful… And for what? For war? We don’t want war!”
Inside Ein Eber, another Christian-majority village, Yorgos Mithri was no stranger to war. He said even his 2-year-old son, Joe, can now recognize the sounds of fighter planes flying overhead, and airstrikes no longer wake him up at night.
Surrounding Ein Eber are the ruins of towns and villages destroyed by the Israeli army’s relentless shelling, bulldozers and controlled vandalism. Mitri chose to overcome the situation out of love for his hometown and fear that he might not be able to return.
Like many Christians in these villages, he has no sympathy for Hezbollah and blames it for starting the war that has turned the view from his home into a landscape of destruction.
“We see the results… What have we achieved after all this?” he said, pointing to the destroyed town of Bint Jubail.
His anger at Hezbollah is matched by sympathy for his civilian Shiite Muslim neighbors, who have borne the brunt of Israel’s bombing and destruction in the south.
“Nobody deserves this,” he said, looking out at the devastated landscape. “We cannot live alone. We must all live together.”
He considers the Lebanese government weak and incompetent and laments the need to regain control of the territory.
For now, the Lebanese government is powerless to operate in Israeli-occupied territory. Under the US-led framework agreement between Israel and Lebanon signed in June, Israel is to hand over a small portion of its occupied territory to the Lebanese army and set up a so-called “test zone”. But there are few signs that the plan will proceed as intended.
It began in three Shiite Muslim-majority villages, but from the beginning none of the villages were fully occupied by Israeli forces, leading many to wonder whether Israel ever intended to leave.
CNN exclusively participated in a patrol mission to Zawtar al-Gharbiyeh, one of the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF).
Lebanese soldiers deployed there are tasked with preventing the infiltration of non-state armed groups such as Hezbollah. Confiscate all weapons and war remnants. and the restoration of national power. Col. Raja Amer, assistant to the Southern Litani district commander, said the first priority was to create a safe area for evacuated residents to return to.
However, his army faces many challenges.
Lebanon’s economic crisis has dried up funding for the military. Soldiers earn an average monthly salary of $500, but much of their equipment is outdated or in short supply.
“Our military operates in a very demanding and difficult security environment,” Amer told CNN. “This is why we need additional capabilities to accomplish these missions.”
Risks include unexploded ordnance left behind by either Hezbollah or Israel and persistent Israeli airstrikes. According to the Lebanese Army, 34 soldiers were killed in 2026 alone.
As soldiers spoke of comrades lost in previous Israeli airstrikes, Israel began shelling the nearby village of Mansouri, delivering four attacks within 20 minutes.
None of the soldiers responded. For them, this was normal.
Amer said the military has recorded more than 5,000 Israeli attacks on Lebanon since the framework agreement was signed in June.
“It’s continuous and it’s everywhere…this is a ‘ceasefire’ from their side,” he said.
There is no Israeli military presence in Zawtar al-Gharbiyeh. But Israeli tanks and bulldozers can be seen just a few hundred meters away, and the destruction of buildings continues at a rapid pace. Soldiers and residents told CNN that drones were constantly flying overhead and they heard shelling every day.
To those on the ground, it does not seem like a ceasefire, nor does the test zone clear the way for Israel to withdraw from Lebanese territory.
Lebanon’s painful history of sectarian violence continues to smolder beneath the surface. For three years now, many have feared that a war between Hezbollah and Israel could be the spark that ignites the tinderbox.
Hezbollah draws much of its support from Shiite Muslim-majority towns in southern Lebanon, which withstood nearly two decades of Israeli occupation at the end of the last century, exacerbated by a lack of economic opportunity and a sense of abandonment by the Beirut government. Although Hezbollah is both a political party and an extremist organization, many in the Shiite population have come to see it as defending against Israeli aggression and providing social services to neglected communities. The US and UK have designated it a terrorist group.
In a drive CNN took with the Lebanese army, most roads were covered with Hezbollah flags and posters commemorating fighters killed in the conflict, a sign that the group still enjoys significant support.
“Hezbollah in Lebanon has a political part and a military part,” Amer said. “They are part of this population. They were here, and their symbols are still in place.”
Israeli officials say the Lebanese army is not disarming Hezbollah quickly enough by conducting more aggressive searches of civilian homes. However, Lebanese law prohibits the military from entering private property without a judicial warrant or legal permission, which it currently does not have.
The Lebanese army said it was careful to avoid inciting sectarian tensions given its recent history of civil war. “If you act violently against your own people, there will be other consequences,” Amer said. “We’re going to do this slowly. We’re going to do this in a rational way.”
Negotiations between Israel and Lebanon have stalled, and there is no indication that Israel intends to withdraw its troops from the occupied territory. Israel’s defense minister said troops would not withdraw from Lebanon even if the US demanded it.
Israeli elections are scheduled for October, and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu will likely want to give his side a clear victory on this front. Amer said the Lebanese army was ready to capture more test zones if political negotiations bear fruit, but warned that this attempt would not be successful if the situation was the same as the first attempt.
“We have complied with the agreement. The other country needs to abide by the agreement and at least have a ceasefire,” he said.
The Lebanese army says less than one in 20 residents of Zawtar al-Gharbiyeh have returned so far, but it hopes this number will increase.
Mahmoud Darwish is one of them, and he returned after troops were deployed to his village. In an interview with CNN, he did not explicitly support Hezbollah, but said those attacked have the right to resist with force.
Darwish was forced to live in a refugee camp for five months. When they returned in July, their home was badly damaged, with debris up to their knees and walls blackened with soot. He said the village made a living from agriculture, and the now fallen olive tree in the garden had been a source of livelihood for many years.
Walking through the rubble, he placed one palm flat on the wall and then held it up – blackened.
“This is Israel and America,” he said, holding it up. “And this is Lebanon, it’s us,” he said, raising his clean hand.
“They killed us, they killed our people, they killed our loved ones, they killed our friends, they destroyed our homes. How do you think they can reconcile with us?”
As he spoke, Israeli airstrikes thudded in the distance. Darwish barely flinched.
“No enemy will ever drive us from our land… She loves me and I love her… We are here and we will remain here.”
