Civilian Resistance in Lebanon

Sample Application: A Funeral in Zebqine
Imm Abbas held a funeral last Sunday. We were invited to attend, even though we did not know her or the bereaved personally. Upon receiving us in her modest abode, Imm Abbas’s daughter asked if we wanted to see pictures of the bereaved. Framed, colored photograph-portraits were brought out and displayed, engulfing the surviving family members. The imbalance was pitiful: three members alive to mourn, twelve only present in photographs. Zebqine was the first village bombed by Israelis on July 13. The night of July 12th, Imm Abbas’s son had moved his children and wife from their home on the outskirts of the village to a relative’s home closer to the center, to avoid Israeli fire. The family would leave to Beirut the next morning. The motor of their jeep was warming in the driveway when the Israeli plane dropped its bomb. The three-story apartment-come-refuge was instantly flattened, killing 12 of the 13 people inside. The force of the blast sent their jeep sailing into the field below. In a village of 230 homes, 109, or nearly half, were either completely destroyed or seriously damaged. Out of a population of 2200 persons, only 500 are currently resident in Zebqine, though another 500 spend their days there and leave at night to sleep in shelters elsewhere. Over the past week, we have been able to bring five tanks of non-potable water for cleaning purposes, medications for chronic and urgent care to help in rebuilding the municipality clinic, and a generator to provide electricity to one neighborhood which was not connected to the other extant generators. Towards our goal of investing in the local economy, we bought $900 worth of garments from one clothing factory owned by a village resident to use for clothing rations in other areas.

Friends,

Thank you for your interest in joining the civilian resistance in Lebanon initiative. These past 2 weeks have been full of meetings, planning and organizing. The convoy on August 12 was due to be the first step of a campaign of civilian resistance in which international activists would join Lebanese and Palestinian activists in creative, strategic nonviolent resistance to Israel’s aggression and war policies.

Following the action on August 12, we met with our colleagues to evaluate and to start strategizing to move forward. Yesterday we were set with two plans – one in case of ceasefire, and one in case of no ceasefire. Both plans were focused on seeking to help displaced Lebanese return to their homes.

However, by 10 AM Monday, it became clear that the displaced were not going to wait and see, but were ready to reclaim their homes, villages and fields. Even if these things were destroyed, people wanted to return right away to their places that they knew.

While the ceasefire is not yet solidified, and there is indeed a serious wariness of what Israel might try to do to upset the withdrawal of its troops and the end of the hostilities, with every passing hour, more and more people flood into the south, and it seems more and more as if engaged resistance will halt (recognizing, of course that the issues of occupation of Shebaa Farms and overall Israeli aggression to Lebanon does require bombs to be falling or troops on the ground).

by Alberto Arce

Duermo en un colchón en la terraza, debido al calor y a que somos siete personas en la casa. Empiezo a no oír todas y cada una de las bombas aunque esta madrugada en torno a las 5 o las 6 han caído más de 10 en Beirut. Hoy, viernes 11 de julio. A las 9.30 de la mañana, a medio despertar, escucho un avión y una explosión muy cerca, tan cerca como para asustarme de verdad. Cuando me asomo al balcón, veo que los israelíes están dejando caer de miles de panfletos sobre el centro de la ciudad. Bajo inmediatamente a la calle, recojo uno de ellos y me lo traducen: “El jeque Nasrallah os esta traicionando y no quiere reconocer cuantas bajas esta teniendo Hezbollah. Sigue una lista de combatientes libaneses caídos en combate”. Me pregunto ¿no tendrán nada mejor que hacer? Ayer se fue la electricidad a las 9 de la noche y acaba de regresar a las 10.30 de la mañana, seguimos sin agua corriente.

Acaban de entrevistarme en RAC1, una radio catalana, les he contado la situación de la ciudad. Ya lo sabían porque para eso están los corresponsales, respecto al convoy de civiles con ayuda humanitaria en el que tenemos pensado salir mañana hacia el sur lo único que se les ha ocurrido preguntar es si tenemos pensamos convocar la misma actividad en el lado israelí. Ayer me entrevistaron para Barcelona Tv y por más que se les explique siguen llamándonos escudos humanos. No somos escudos humanos. Somos activistas internacionales que respondemos a una llamada de la sociedad civil libanesa para desarrollar actividades de resistencia civil conjunta contra la agresión israelí.

German citizens protest the Israeli attacks on civilians.

by Alberto Arce

Ayer lo deje en que alguno de nosotros habíamos decidido dejar el apartamento que el ISM ha alquilado y nos iríamos a dormir al parque de Sanariyeh con los refugiados. Imposible. Esta tarde los israelíes han bombardeado Shiaa, al suroeste de Beirut por segunda vez en lo que ha de semana y muchos de los desplazados del sur que vivían allí han llegado al parque. El colapso logístico es total. Mientras la Cruz Roja se saca fotografías cruzando simbólicamente el Río Litani, tratando de convencer al mundo de que esta enviando hacia el sur del país, a 500 metros de su cuartel general hay varios cientos de personas que hoy a las 10.30 de la noche aun no habían conseguido un colchón para dormir y tenían por todo alimento un pequeño paquete de galletas. La Cruz Roja obedece a Israel. Israel no permite entregar ayuda en ciertos lugares y la Cruz Roja no lo hace. Obedece al ejército ocupante.

Shiaa es un barrio de Beirut que desde el principio de la guerra estaba acogiendo desplazados del sur. Familias enteras. Civiles, por supuesto. El lunes los aviones israelíes lanzaron dos bombas sobre un edificio de tres plantas. Entre 20 y 30 personas murieron bajo los escombros. Personas desplazadas que habían llegado a Beirut en busca de refugio y encontraron la muerte mientras cenaban dentro de un edificio normal y corriente de un barrio normal corriente de Beirut.