Why an ancient battle feels closer than ever in one war-weary Lebanese town

NABATİEH, Lebanon — Sweating under the strong afternoon sun, the crowd slapped their chests in time with the chanter’s scream; its mournful refrain echoed through the abandoned, rubble-strewn streets of this scarred city, the focus of Israel’s latest offensive in Lebanon.

“Karbala, oh Karbala!” the chanter called out.

“This is the tragedy of Karbala,” the crowd responded as the march passed through the central district of Nabatieh, which had been reduced to dust after weeks of intense Israeli attacks.

Their hymns referenced a 7th-century battlefield where the desperately outnumbered Imam Hussein, the grandson of the prophet Muhammad and a revered figure in Shiite Islam, was killed and beheaded during a defiant last stand against an unjust Sunni ruler.

Shiites hold their most sacred and emotionally charged annual ritual – Ashura – to commemorate Hussein’s death, honoring him as a stirring symbol of the fight against oppression.

This year’s parade was reminiscent of the recent war that will engulf southern Lebanon, on which US-Iran peace talks also depend. The next phase of the talks, which resumed in Switzerland on Sunday, was postponed on Friday due to renewed fighting between Israel and Hezbollah in Nabatieh and its surroundings.

This was the city’s historical market, now a disfigured mouth of walls and rebar. Next to the bulldozer, the ruined body of a car was visible amid the rubble of a store. Every few feet there were piles of glass swept away from shattered storefronts.

“With spears and swords!” he shouted.

“Arise, O protector of the homeland!” the crowd responded.

The Battle of Karbala is now in Iraq, and for the few hundred residents who braved a shaky ceasefire to return to this city, it has never felt closer.

“Where we are here, right now, this is Karbala,” said Hussein Nahleh, a 33-year-old architect whose house in Nabatieh was destroyed but who still insisted on traveling back and forth from his shelter in Beirut, the Lebanese capital, to attend Ashura.

“Returning here after a war, after what Israel did to us, is a victory of blood over the sword. This is Karbala,” he said.

Lebanon’s battered Shiite community is taking stock of the devastation caused by another conflict between Israel and the Iran-backed Lebanese Shiite militant group Hezbollah.

Faced with an Israeli government whose leaders explicitly view the permanent uprooting of Lebanon’s Shiites as a military goal, and a Hezbollah that has vowed to fight for every square inch of Lebanese territory, no matter the cost in blood and treasure, Shiites are grappling with an existential challenge not only to their role in Lebanon’s long-term future but also to their very existence in its core regions.

This challenge can be seen in almost every corner of Nabatieh, a city of approximately 90,000 people.

Israeli troops advanced towards the outskirts of the city and did not break in, but their attacks disrupted the economic powerhouse of the Shiite business community.

Every street presents a picture of desolation. Water, electricity and communications infrastructure, barely restored after the previous fight with Israel, are again offline. And the Israeli army remains a few miles to the south; its presence is marked by the occasional cloud of smoke where its artillery strikes and the intensity of machine-gun fire.

A study by the Lebanese government’s National Council for Scientific Research determined that Nabatieh and the surrounding area suffered the most destruction of all areas in the war, with approximately 10,000 residences destroyed or damaged.

“The amount of destruction, the amount of shelling… it was very difficult. This was the worst attack the city had ever suffered,” said Hussein Fakih, head of Nabatieh Civil Defense.

After more than 100 days of work, having lost nine medics and 43 wounded in Israeli attacks, he appeared almost exhausted. Faqih said the ceasefire provided only a short period of time.

“Actually, it is more difficult for us to operate, because you don’t know whether the Israelis will attack you or not,” he said, adding that most residents could not return because they would open fire if Israeli soldiers approached.

A few minutes later, Faqih answered his phone. His face went blank when he received the caller’s message.

“I received news. My parents’ house, my daughter’s house, my house; the Israeli enemy bombed them,” he said, his eyes filled with tears.

Mehdi Sadeq, head of the Nabatieh Emergency Rescue Service, an aid organisation, said there were initially no plans to hold Ashura in Nabatieh this year.

Following the agreement reached between the USA and Iran, the Lebanese army is deployed to the region after the residents of Nabatieh return to their homes.

(Houssam Shbaro/Anadolu via Getty Images)

But when a ceasefire was declared last week and fighting largely subsided, a series of reversals were triggered on Wednesday; Not a lot, but “enough to hold a ceremony,” Sadeq said.

Sadeq and his team of volunteer paramedics began preparing what they could; Throughout the night, Israeli attacks insisted on continuing even as they frightened many of those who returned to their shelters. However, Sadik acknowledged that the Ashura ceremony will be much smaller than in previous years.

“There were tens of thousands of people and sheikhs on the streets, all roads were closed to cars, ceremonies were held all over the city, food was served. That’s why they called it the ‘City of Hussein.’ Of course, all of that is gone,” Sadeq said.

“But the longing for Ashura, the excitement, the tears in the eyes have doubled because people are experiencing Karbala.”

Standing in the half-finished cinder block basement of the house that serves as headquarters for the Ambulance Service, Sadeq placed a bowl of chopped onions into a large pot and stirred gently as the oil sizzled.

This was followed by peppers and a healthy sprinkle of spices.

Shaking his head, Sadeq pointed to the pot and said, “Chicken curry. We cook a different dish every day for a shared meal.”

“We are expecting 200 people. This is a trial. If it goes well, more will follow.”

Ashura processions are often dramatic events; The audience beats their chests and makes mourning displays while the hymn singers sing elegies or elegies dedicated to Hussein. Some go further, whipping themselves or striking their forehead with a sword to draw blood. The rituals reach their climax on the 10th day of Muharram, which falls on June 26 this year.

Sadik, 45, whose clerical beard and calming demeanor indicate that he was raised as the son of Nabatieh’s imam and a son of the city, spoke of the need for Shiites in Lebanon to find a way beyond the conflicts that have marked their history. In his view, Hussein’s death was about fighting against oppression, yes, but it was also about putting the common interests of believers above one’s own.

He pointed out that, after all, even Iran has reached an agreement with its long-time arch-enemy, the United States. He said this change should also resonate in Lebanon.

“We must find a sustainable narrative to end this conflict, without forgetting what we sacrificed and that Israel is a murderer,” he said.

“To be strong beyond arms, we must protect our future and our new generations.”

The war fatigue in Sadeq’s words reflects the exhaustion felt throughout Lebanon, especially among Shiites, who make up a third of the population of 6 million.

Two wars with Israel over the years – both launched on behalf of others but with enormous consequences here – have resulted in thousands of deaths, a displacement crisis of millions, and the razing and occupation of large swaths of the country.

The first came in October 2023, when Hezbollah struck Israel in support of Hamas’ attack on Israel. This triggered an Israeli response, resulting in a violent campaign that toppled most of Hezbollah’s leaders. Hundreds of people were killed and Israel occupied parts of Lebanon.

In November 2024, Hezbollah acquiesced to a humiliating ceasefire that allowed Israel to continue its attacks for 15 months without firing a single shot. This was the lowest moment in the band’s 44-year history. He looked like an outdated, exhausted, hopelessly failed force.

This made it all the more surprising—to allies, enemies, and even the group’s own supporters—when Hezbollah unleashed a barrage of missiles and drones on northern Israel on March 2.

Approximately 4,000 people were killed in Lebanon in this conflict, including 746 women, children and healthcare workers; this number is higher than Iran’s; and there are more than three times that number of injured. Israeli forces attacked further into Lebanon and occupied more than a tenth of the country; They captured the 12th-century citadel overlooking Nabatieh earlier this month and destroyed dozens of villages.

“None of the wars of the past involved what we have now,” said Paul Salem, a senior associate at the Center for Strategic and International Studies.

Previously, Lebanese people could return to their homes from which they had fled. There’s nothing to come back to now. “This time, many towns and villages no longer exist,” he said.

While the outcome of the war remains a matter of debate, it nevertheless reversed the narrative about Hezbollah, revealing a resurgent force capable of inflicting pain on Israeli troops and countering Israeli advances with drones and anti-tank missiles.

Many Hezbollah supporters, meanwhile, point to Iran and its willingness to fight as evidence that the Lebanese should turn to Tehran, not Washington, to protect themselves from Israel.

At the same time, Israel, which is not a party to the Iran-US ceasefire negotiations, has not given any indication that it will withdraw from Lebanon.

Apparently unimpressed by Israel’s presence, the congregation gathered for Ashura on Wednesday.

As the sun began to set, the men gathered in a circle; The tempo that made their chests beat rapidly accelerated with the intensity of their chants.

“We remain true to our word, O Hussein!” they shouted. “Our soul is in your hands, O Hussein!”

A day later, Israeli attacks intensified once again; This situation revealed the instability of any cessation of hostilities. Sadiq and other officials decided to shift the Ashura procession to Beirut.

“We had no choice. It’s very difficult to stay,” he said.