The village of Aïn Ebel, six kilometers from the border between Lebanon and Israel, is celebrating. In the Saint-Joseph school, hundreds of children are gathered under the watchful eye of their parents. Standing on chairs, they clap their hands to the sound of the fanfare playing the entire repertoire of Christmas carols. Then, on the theater stage, they go to collect gifts distributed thanks to the support of the Œuvre d’Orient association. On this Saturday, December 21, joy dominates. And for good reason: it accompanies the return of many families to Aïn Ebel, after fourteen months of a war which ravaged southern Lebanon. Of the 1,300 inhabitants of the village, barely 200 still remained there to this day.
Santa Claus parade, music, songs… their smiles would almost make you forget a year marked by a war which is still struggling to end. Only the presence of French troops from UNIFIL – the United Nations interim force in Lebanon – in fatigues in the establishment betrays the difficulties of the Christian villages in the region. Since November 27, the ceasefire agreement has reduced the intensity of the fighting, allowing residents of the region to return home.
One year of war
“The smile on the faces of these young people is the most precious thing we can offer. We have come a long way, here the war started on October 9, 2023,” following the hostilities unleashed in Gaza, rejoices Sister Maya Beaino, nun of the congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Hearts, who have run the educational establishments of Aïn Ebel for nearly one hundred and fifty years. Left alone in her convent, the nun with her round face and jovial demeanor struggles to maintain life in the village.
After a year of regular bombings, the war suddenly became more intense at the end of September, with the ground invasion of southern Lebanon by Israeli troops. On the roads and in the villages, the destruction bears witness to the violence of the fighting. Entire buildings destroyed, houses gutted, walls riddled with bullets. On the hill facing Aïn Ebel, the village of Hanine looms a few kilometers away like a field of ruins.
However, the students do not hide their joy at finding their land and their homes. With her group of friends, Mia Hasrouni, 14, is enjoying the party and looks full of energy. “We are very happy to be back at home, in our homes and in our school. And then here it’s much prettier”, she explains seriously. Having left with her family in Beirut for a year, she is now enjoying the happiness of being reunited with her comrades.
Present on the scene, the commander of the FCR – the Franco-Finnish rapid intervention force in the area integrated into UNIFIL –, Colonel Geoffrey de Hauteclocque, does not hide his admiration for the work of Sister Maya Beaino, who worked hard to organize the festivities. “When she came to see us ten days ago to organize these activities, in an area which is not yet secure although the Lebanese forces are reinvesting it, it was unthinkable, relate-t-il. This is the first civil-military action of this scale that the FCR has carried out among the population since the ceasefire. Seeing all these families gathered, and all these children, it represents hope. It’s a sign that the community endures. »
“With every loud noise, we are afraid”
The owners of the few shops still open in Aïn Ebel place a lot of hope in the return of their neighbors. Manager of a small pastry shop, Karme Felfli did not want to leave the place where she has lived for thirty years. “Life in Beirut is too expensive for me. People need to come back. » His creditors are demanding money from him despite the absence of customers. How to envisage the future? “God is greater than all” answers, enigmatic, Karme Felfli.
Under the courtyard of the Saint-Joseph school, the parents, unlike the younger ones, are more circumspect. Having left following the evacuation order on October 1, Jad Fares said he ” satisfied “ to be back on his land. “We keep our heads high,” he said. Like many, he is reluctant to express himself further. The events left deep scars. “I’m worried,” dares Manal Andraos, who found his house damaged by bombs. “With every loud noise, we are afraid”she says.
Uncertainties remain and January 27 – the ceasefire deadline – is approaching; many are watching the situation evolve from afar. Thus more than half of the inhabitants of Aïn Ebel have still not returned. Some fled to Rmeich, the largest Christian village in the region, spared from the bombings, where 6,000 of them refused to leave despite the war in the surrounding area. The evening before, the Christmas market brought together hundreds of people in front of the church.
“For Christians in southern Lebanon, there is no more hope”
Returning to their land is a painful ordeal for other Christians. At a crossroads in Debel, two kilometers from Aïn Ebel, a van stops on the side. Refaat Abou Elias climbs down with difficulty and leans on his cane. The octogenarian leaves with his wife for Qouzah, the fourth Maronite village in the area, where they have nothing left, “no water, no electricity”lists the couple, the last inhabitants of the completely razed place. Hezbollah soldiers had invaded the scene before being confronted by Israeli tanks. “I sleep on a mattress on the floor, next to the collapsed wall of my house,” continues Refaat Abou Elias, bursting into tears.
The village of Debel paid the high price of the war. Samar Saïd, dressed all in black, wanders with two of her sons on the ruins of the collapsed house of her parents, killed with her brother in a strike. “They didn’t want to come with me to Beirut when we were evacuatedshe remembers in a low voice. I had a bad feeling, and it happened the next night, at 4 a.m. » Eyes swollen with grief like so many Lebanese in the region, Samar Saïd returns to the faith passed on to him by his father. “I cling to this to survive,” confides this mother of five children for whom the future lies elsewhere than in her village, caught between the men of Hezbollah and the soldiers of the IDF. “I have no more hope. For Christians in southern Lebanon, there is no more hope. »