Barrel of a Gun by Al Venter

Author:Al Venter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Bisac Code 1: HIS027170
ISBN: eBook ISBN| 9781612000329
Publisher: Casemate
Published: 2010-10-18T16:00:00+00:00

The Israelis have been known to be indiscriminate in their use of artillery. More than 100 people – almost all of them civilians including large numbers of women and children – were killed when a cluster of IDF shells hit the Shi’ite town of Qana in South Lebanon. There were no apologies and the investigation that Jerusalem said took place afterwards yielded little. Among the seriously wounded were several members of the UN Fijian Battalion. (Author’s collection)

Almost three weeks later at the IDF headquarters at Tyre, a place I would visit often on my way in or out of the country, the Shi’ites took their revenge by detonating a truck loaded with explosives at the front entrance of the two-storey building. Altogether 61 people were killed by the blast, roughly equal numbers of Israelis and Arab political prisoners.

In her book, Sacred Rage, my former colleague Robin Wright tells us that it was the largest single toll Israel had incurred since the invasion: ‘A lone Shi’ite suicide bomber had killed more in one day that the PLO had claimed in the five years leading up to the invasion.’1

She goes on: ‘As one of the most hard-line Shia mullahs explained, “Israel could have won the southerners’ hearts and minds, but instead, its warlike style has turned people against it”.’

Looking back, one was always left with the impression that Nabatiya was a most unusual place. Other Lebanese towns – then and now – are noisy and rambunctious with everyday activity. There were always people fixing things, women calling, children shrieking and, if you listened carefully towards late afternoon, Arab flutes, which, to our Western ears might have sounded a little discordant. It was the kind of music you needed to get used to, as, with time, I did. To me these were reassuring echoes, some still resonating long after we’d left a settlement.

In Nabatiya, by contrast, you could almost feel tingles of hatred on the back of your neck. While going through the place, nobody spoke as we passed, there was no music, no kids playing in the street and you just knew that there was trouble waiting to happen. Most often, we couldn’t wait to get out of there, yet time after time we’d go back, almost as if we were tempting the gods.

The IDF soldiers who travelled with us felt much the same. When they returned to Israel from Beirut, they’d groan when they were told that their route would take them through Nabatiya. Unpleasant things happened there, they would comment among themselves and, as we approached, they’d be that much more vigilant.

When I visited the town a decade later, very little had changed. Nabatiya had become a regional headquarters for Hizbollah and, according to Jerusalem, almost all attacks launched into Upper Galilee were planned from there; which is why the town is still blasted so often by the Israeli Air Force today.

To me, Sidon wasn’t much better. I once spent two days there, ostensibly to visit some of the Palestinian camps south of the town.

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