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Grief, unease, then fear: When an Israeli bomb hit a funeral in Beirut

Grief, unease, then fear: When an Israeli bomb hit a funeral in Beirut

The air was already filled with unease, anger and grief.

Cars and pedestrians crowded along boulevards and alleys in Beirut’s southern suburbs as thousands of Hezbollah supporters and other Lebanese mourners headed to the funeral.

Hands pressed leaflets into the hands of passersby. Vigilant security guards watched every person entering the main street where Hezbollah had held a mass funeral for its members killed in a pager explosion the day before.

By Tuesday afternoon, Beirut’s southern suburbs, an area known colloquially as Dahiyeh, had become a scene of chaos, with explosions ringing out and stunned, bloodied people staggering through the streets.

Middle East Eye wanted to talk to locals about what it was like to see the situation unfold before their eyes: pagers exploding in grocery stores, cafes, homes and at least one hospital.

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But first I had to get permission from Hezbollah, which gave me access to the highly secure public funeral it was organizing.

Dahiyeh is often described as a Hezbollah “stronghold.” And while it is true that this powerful armed movement is the dominant force in the district, this description overlooks the heavily residential character of the area.

As I began to open my notebook, a loud explosion sounded, eclipsing the music, and everyone fell silent.

“What just happened?” people wondered.

“Was that a sonic boom?” one asked, referring to Israeli jets breaking the sound barrier over Beirut, a noise that has haunted residents for weeks.

The sight of people fleeing the scene of the explosion cleared the confusion.

Some screamed in fear, while others began to sing Shiite funeral chants.

As I walked past, someone asked, “Who still has their pager on them?” The location of the apparent attack did not go unnoticed. “At a funeral?” I heard one incredulous man say.

Scouts hold up a photo of one of their comrades killed by a pager explosion during the funeral procession in Beirut on September 18 (AFP/Anwar Amro)
Scouts hold up a photo of one of their comrades killed by a pager explosion during the funeral procession in Beirut on September 18 (AFP/Anwar Amro)

Rumors of all kinds were already circulating. One policeman told me it was just a tire that had accidentally exploded. Others claimed that Israel was hacking phones.

It was then that a series of messages suddenly crossed the unstable telephone network and lit up my screen: similar incidents had taken place in southern and eastern Lebanon.

As I was going out, an old woman approached me.

“Young man, can you please help me turn off my phone?” she asked, explaining that she was afraid it would explode.

After turning off his phone, I heard one young man yell at another, “Dude, throw your phone away!” An ambulance turned on its siren and sped away.

“A new phase in the war”

I had been down these streets the night before. Usually, Dahiyeh is filled with friends and neighbors hanging out in shops, cafes, and restaurants. But now it was silent and dark, frightened by the violent interruption earlier in the day.

Now a new attack has raised fears again.

It soon became clear that this time it was not pagers that were exploding, but handheld radios also used by Hezbollah members.

The explosion near my home occurred in the middle of a crowd, next to an ambulance, as a victim of the previous attack was being taken away for funeral rites.

For now, everyone seemed determined to try to escape and join their loved ones.

Once on a main road, more chaos began to unfold. Fleeing cars encountered ambulances and fire trucks trying to head in the opposite direction.

“I’m going to see if my family is okay now,” one man who fled the funeral told me, explaining that his relatives live in a building frequented by Hezbollah members.

According to the Lebanese Health Ministry, 25 people were killed and 604 injured in the second wave of attacks on Wednesday. The first wave on Tuesday left 12 dead, including two children, and nearly 3,000 injured.

Israel, widely believed to be the mastermind of the attack, remained silent. By the end of the day, a senior Israeli official finally made the first comment:

“We are opening a new phase in the war,” Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant said.