BEIRUT: The news came by video. Law professor Ali Mourad discovered that Israel had dynamited his family’s south Lebanon home only after footage of the operation was sent to his phone.
“A friend from the village sent me the video, telling me to make sure my dad doesn’t see it,” Mourad, 43, said.
“But when he got the news, he stayed strong.”
The aerial footage shows simultaneous explosions rock a cluster of buildings on a lush hill.
Mourad’s home in Aitroun village, less than a kilometer from the border, is seen crumpling in a cloud of grey dust.
His father, an 83-year-old paediatrician, had his medical practice in the building. He had lived there with his family since shortly after Israel’s 22-year occupation of southern Lebanon ended in 2000.
The family fled the region again after the Israel-Hezbollah war erupted on September 23 after a year of cross-border fire that began with the Gaza war.
South Lebanon, a Hezbollah stronghold, has since been pummeled by Israeli strikes.
Hezbollah says it is battling Israeli forces at close range in border villages after a ground invasion began last month.
For the first 20 years of his life, Mourad could not step foot in Aitroun because of the Israeli occupation.
He wants his two children to have “a connection to their land,” but fears the war could upend any remaining ties.
“I fear my children will be orphaned of their land, as I was in the past,” he said.
“Returning is my right, a duty in my ancestors’ memory, and for the future of my children.”
According to Lebanon’s official National News Agency, Israeli troops dynamited buildings in at least seven border villages last month.
Israel’s Channel 12 broadcast footage appearing to show one of its presenters blow up a building while embedded with soldiers in the village of Aita Al-Shaab.
On October 26, the NNA said Israel “blew up and destroyed houses... in the village of Odaisseh.”
That day, Israel’s military said 400 tons of explosives detonated in a Hezbollah tunnel, which it said was more than 1.5 kilometers (around a mile) long.
It is in Odaisseh that Lubnan Baalbaki fears he may have lost the mausoleum where his mother and father, the late painter Abdel-Hamid Baalbaki, are buried.
Their tomb is in the garden of their home, which was levelled in the blasts.
Baalbaki, 43, bought satellite images to keep an eye on the house which had been designed by his father, in polished white stone and clay tiles.
But videos circulating online later showed it had been blown up.
Lubnan has not yet found out whether the mausoleum was also damaged, adding that this was his “greatest fear.”
It would be like his parents “dying for a second time,” he said.
His Odaisseh home had a 2,000-book library and around 20 original artworks, including paintings by his father, he said.
His father had spent his life savings from his job as a university professor to build the home.
The family had preserved “his desk, his palettes, his brushes, just as he left them before he died,” Baalbaki said.
A painting he had been working on was still on an easel.
Losing the house filled him with “so much sadness” because “it was a project we’d grown up with since childhood that greatly influenced us, pushing us to embrace art and the love of beauty.”
Lebanon’s National Human Rights Commission has said “the ongoing destruction campaign carried out by the Israeli army in southern Lebanon is a war crime.”
Between October 2023 and October 2024, locations “were wantonly and systematically destroyed in at least eight Lebanese villages,” it said, basing its findings on satellite images and videos shared on social media by Israeli soldiers.
Israel’s military used “air strikes, bulldozers, and manually controlled explosions” to level entire neighborhoods — homes, schools, mosques, churches, shrines, and archaeological sites, the commission said.
Lebanese rights group Legal Agenda said blasts in Mhaibib “destroyed the bulk” of the hilltop village, “including at least 92 buildings of civilian homes and facilities.”
“You can’t blow up an entire village because you have a military target,” said Hussein Chaabane, an investigative journalist with the group.
International law “prohibits attacking civilian objects,” he said.
Should civilian objects be targeted, “the principle of proportionality should be respected, and here it is being violated.”

Lebanon: Nerjes Hassan was so worried her children would fall ill from bathing in the frigid water of a displacement shelter in northeast Lebanon that she drove back into her hometown to give them a hot bath and pick up food preserves.
While at home on Wednesday morning in the town of Buday, near the eastern city of Baalbek, an Israeli air strike killed her, her husband and her two children, according to her coworkers and neighbors.
Hassan, who worked for the Lebanese Organization for Studies and Training (LOST) aid organization, was among thousands seeking refuge from Israeli strikes in the mountainous Christian town of Deir Al-Ahmar in eastern Lebanon.
The town was already hosting more than 10,000 displaced people before Israel escalated its strikes on predominantly Shiite Muslim Baalbek and nearby towns starting on Wednesday this week.
Thousands more are flowing into Deir Al-Ahmar as Israel’s bombardment continues. The needs are growing, temperatures are dropping, and supplies in the town are getting tight.
In one school now serving as a shelter, aid groups that once served two meals have cut breakfast to feed more at lunch. Townspeople have put together donation drives for winter clothes and blankets but are facing shortages, leaving displaced sharing blankets overnight.
“If we flee the bombing, are we meant to die of cold?” said Suzanne Qassem, a mother of two at one displacement center, whose home in Buday had been destroyed.
“I’m sick, I’ve been taking medicine for a week and I’m still coughing... If my son gets sick, am I going to be able to get him medicine?“
'Like a siege'
Temperatures in Deir Al-Ahmar are dropping to 6 degrees Celsius (43 degrees Fahrenheit) overnight even before winter fully sets in and the schools have no diesel to run central heating systems.
“At night, we’re shaking. I put my mattress up next to my daughter and tell her to hug me so that we can keep warm. But we’re not keeping warm,” said Neyfe Mazloum, 69.
Most families fled with just the clothes on their backs, rushing out of their homes after Israeli evacuation warnings for Baalbek and surrounding towns on Wednesday and Thursday.
More than 1.2 million people have been displaced by Israeli strikes on Lebanon over the last year in its campaign against militant group Hezbollah. That includes nearly 190,000 who have sought refuge in shelters. Others are staying with relatives, have rented out homes, or are sleeping in the streets.
Lebanon’s crisis management cell says that out of 1,130 accredited shelters, 948 have reached maximum capacity. Most of the displaced are in the districts of Mount Lebanon and Beirut — easy to reach for most aid organizations.
But Deir Al-Ahmar is much further afield.
The quickest routes run through the massive area that the Israeli military says must evacuate. To avoid it, aid groups planning to deliver supplies this week will travel further north through mountain peaks before cutting back down to the town.
Imran Riza, the United Nations humanitarian coordinator for Lebanon, told Reuters that aid deliveries to the Baalbek region had to be postponed this week due to Israeli air strikes. Other deliveries of medical aid to Lebanon from foreign countries have been delayed due to strikes near the airport.
“Access is becoming more and more difficult. The needs are growing in Deir Al-Ahmar. It’s up to us to try to get there, and to plan a way to be able to access in it a way that is reasonably safe,” he said.
Local volunteers are worried that the looming winter will cut off the only safe route into Deir Al-Ahmar, leaving them stranded.
“That road will close with the first snow. It will be like a siege,” said Khodr Zeaiter, a volunteer with LOST. Displaced himself, he is now helping to organize aid in Deir Al-Ahmar.
Beyond the immediate concerns of food and fuel, Zeaiter is worried about the education ministry’s directive that public schools — now hosting displaced — will need to reopen for students in three weeks.
Volunteers are studying the possibility of refurbishing an abandoned school to host morning and evening classes, he said.
“We’re grateful to the people of Deir Al-Ahmar so much. It’s their solidarity that has gotten us through this. But how long that will last — who knows.”