Israel launched a series of strikes on targets in southern Lebanon early this morning, hours after a partial truce with Hezbollah was announced. The fragile agreement, brokered by international mediators, has been described as a 'pause for breath' by allies, but the strikes raise questions about its durability.
The Israel Defence Forces (IDF) said the strikes were a 'targeted response' to a Hezbollah rocket attack on a military outpost near the border. 'We are not escalating. We are defending our borders,' an IDF spokesperson said. Hezbollah has not confirmed the rocket attack but warned that any infringement of the ceasefire would be met with 'a firm and immediate reply'.
The truce, which came into effect at 6am local time, was meant to halt the latest round of cross-border violence that has displaced thousands on both sides. It was welcomed by the US and European allies, who have been pressing for de-escalation. 'This is a fragile peace, but it is a peace,' said a US State Department official.
For communities in northern Israel, the news of the strikes brings a sense of dread. 'We were told we could go back to our homes. Now this,' said a resident of Kiryat Shmona, a town that has been repeatedly hit by Hezbollah rockets. The price of this conflict is borne by working people. Farmers cannot tend their fields. Parents cannot send children to school. The economy, already struggling under the weight of military spending, faces further strain.
On the Lebanese side, the situation is no less grim. The strikes hit a village near the border, damaging a water treatment plant that served 10,000 people. 'Our infrastructure was already crumbling. Now this,' said a local official. Lebanon's economy is in freefall. The currency has lost 90% of its value. A truce, however temporary, offers a lifeline. But as the strikes show, it is a threadbare one.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's office said Israel remained committed to the truce but would not allow Hezbollah to 'dictate terms from the shadows'. The message is clear: the ceasefire is conditional on the complete cessation of hostilities from Hezbollah. But the group, backed by Iran, has its own calculations. It wants to be seen as protecting Lebanese sovereignty, even as it tests the limits of Israeli tolerance.
For the ordinary citizen, caught between these two, the word 'truce' means little without the promise of a lasting end to violence. 'We are tired,' said a Lebanese mother of three, speaking from a shelter in Beirut. 'We want to go home. We want to live.' Her voice is the voice of the real economy, the kitchen table, the common humanity that transcends borders.
International mediators are now scrambling to salvage the agreement. The UN Special Coordinator for Lebanon, Joanna Wronecka, called on both sides to 'exercise maximum restraint' and protect the ceasefire. But her words, like the truce itself, hang by a thread.
As the sun sets over the Litani River, the silence is broken by the occasional drone. The strikes may be over for now, but the peace remains in the balance.
