REPORTING. In Tyre, Lebanon, “no one wants to relive the war, but everyone is afraid that it will resurface”

Hassan Dbouk is very quickly aware “when it bombs”. His desk vibrates for a few seconds and so does he. “When it’s really strong”, it’s the chest of drawers that’s moving. From the resumption of clashes in southern Lebanon, in October, “it’s simple, it happens every day”, abbreviates the mayor of Tire. The border with the Jewish state is only about twenty kilometers away as the crow flies. So close that Israeli radio can be picked up from the streets of the seaside town, sold in tourist guides for its beaches and turquoise water.

After almost four months of tension, the city has so far been spared. No casualties, no material damage. But “the closest bombing still occurred only seven kilometers away”, signal the chosen one. He puts his two hands together as if to show a distance:

“Seven kilometers is nothing, it’s close.”

Hassan Dbouk, mayor of Tire

at franceinfo

On the day we came, Wednesday January 11, surrounding villages continued to be targeted and notifications were constantly ringing on the mayor’s phone. Its WhatsApp application displays 162 unread messages. “At the moment, residents are calling me less to complain about mosquitoes or a neighbor. But they can ask me if I have also heard the noise, if I know more, if I know what it is.”

From now on, it is the clashes between Hezbollah and the Israeli army that occupy his days. As soon as the first missiles began to rain, residents fled the city towards northern Lebanon. “Even my neighbors leftconfides Hassan Dbouk. They lived on the first floor of a building, they were afraid, they preferred to take shelter in Beirut while waiting for calm to return.” He looks up: “After all, it’s human.”

Soldiers in the streets

Week after week, the large city in southern Lebanon, the fourth in the country, also became a refuge for hundreds of villagers who lived closest to the border. Passing through the corridors of the urban council, where the NGOs have set up shop, the mayor of Tire smiles: a scout has allowed himself to sit in his usual chair.

Already, the road from Beirut plunges into the atmosphere. Between two advertisements for insurance, signs every 200 m remind us that “LUnexploded ordnance presents an immediate danger: do not touch it, report it immediately.”.

At the entrance to Tyre, five soldiers of the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL), in military uniform from head to toe, await the final turns of the screws of the mechanic on their vehicle. At the same time, along Abbasiye Street, a convoy of four Jeeps passes of the UN peacekeeping force. In the port, a fisherman in a yellow raincoat untangles his nets before going out to sea the next day. From the sea, Hassan Ibrahim can see certain Israeli positions. “I sometimes hear the sounds of bombinghe promises. But for the moment, no one has forbidden me from going on the water.”

Not far from there, men in fatigues keep watch. Even in the market aisles, between the fruits and vegetables. Hat pulled down to his eyebrows, Khuder Shur tells that a soldier bought him 25 kg of bananas the other day. “Twelve dollars, a good customersmiles the 54-year-old merchant, who really needs it these days. With the financial crisis, and now with what is happening in the south, ask my colleagues: we no longer work as before.”

“Yes, it’s touristy here, normally. But who wants to come and swim when there’s so much noise around? You’d have to be crazy.”

Khuder Shur, fruit seller in Tire

at franceinfo

No more travelers to photograph Lhe granite monoliths dating from Roman times, hardly anyone left to take selfies in front of the limestone blocks. Facing the sea, Hafez el Hasad Street, lined with restaurants and cafes, remains empty.

An economy at a standstill

Since the massacres committed by Hamas on October 7, the Dar Camelia hotel has recorded cancellations, “holidaymakers no longer wanted to come.” Joseph Raffoul, the owner of a souvenir shop, runs his hands through his hair in a sign of despair: