Written by Hazal
Edited by Anaïs and Sihan Yang
During the ongoing war on Lebanon, Israeli air forces have reportedly sprayed herbicides over villages in southern Lebanon – substances linked to long-term health risks, including cancer¹. Despite the photographic evidence and local witnesses, the IDF declined to comment on the herbicides. As I started writing this piece, Human Rights Watch also called this unlawful artillery-fired white phosphorus ammunition over the residential area in Yohmor. It would be worth noting that, HRW also a decade ago raised concerns about civilian displacement in the region².
War does not end with casualties or ruined buildings. It extends into the soil, the water, and the air. It contaminates rivers, destroys agriculture, and disrupts ecosystems that communities depend on. Even after the physical devastation stops, invisible harm continues long after ceasefires are declared. Polluted rivers, toxic exposure of the soil, crops go unharvested and disrupted harmony of non-human beings remains even after the troops leave. Naming the extensive destruction of the natural environment in the region as ecocide, can help us to see the damage beyond a poisoned land.
I have never been to South Lebanon. Yet, reading these reports makes distance feel irrelevant. In a time of climate crisis, it is difficult not to recognise the connection between these forms of destruction and our already fragile shared ecosystem while watching the ecological destruction on live stream. Wars initiated in the name of security or democracy often result in the erasure of local communities, the reshaping of landscapes, and the disruption of non-human life, migration routes, habitats, and the ecological balance itself.
In her book A Landscape of War, Munira Khayyat documents how repeated attacks have transformed the landscapes of South Lebanon, embedding violence into everyday life, proving that the current destruction is not new for the region. It is layered, cumulative, and ongoing. Khayyat’s work helped me to speak about the destruction while it’s in motion. As interconnected beings speaking against war and its echoes, supporting oppressed communities can help resist further degradation of our already damaged – but still living – planet.
As news from the region unfolded, I came across a haunting exhibition about Lebanon, memory and belonging³. A few days later, I had a chance to speak with one of the curators of the exhibition, Ali Abou Khalil, in the fascinating cultural centre “Ibraaz” in West London.
During our conversation, Ali Abou Khalil, whose family has lived in South Lebanon for generations, described how their lives were rooted in a small agricultural plot, dependent on the rhythms of the land. War forced them into cycles of displacement. First to Germany, then back to Lebanon under occupation. Years later, Ali returned as a teenager. He remembers sitting with his father, eating a lemon with salt on the porch of a house rebuilt in exile. They expanded the land that they have, as a form of resistance against the occupation. He was proud to show what he created with a very little income, while raising three kids with his wife after spending years in prison simply because he was an 18 year old young man when Israel’s occupation started. Lemon, orange and all kinds of melon trees flourished on their bistan (small agricultural plot in Arabic). Shortly after their visit, his father passed away.
The current destruction in the region demonstrates how environmental harm is increasingly used as a weapon. Reports describe the flattening of villages south of the Litani River to prevent return. This "yellow line" buffer zone seeks to erase topography and create "facts on the ground", mirroring tactics in Gaza and the West Bank. During our conversation Ali also drew the line from 1948 – the “Nakba” Catastrophe of the Palestinian people – as a Lebanese immigrant. The river was the subject of an operation by the Israeli forces in 1978, that claimed to push Palestinian Liberation Organisation forces away. UN Resolution 1701 (2006) mandated disarmament south of the Litani that Ali views as a tactic to create demilitarized zones for future occupation.
Historian Avi Shlaim describes the Nakba as a process of ethnic cleansing and settler colonialism carried out through territorial expansion and the displacement of the Arab population. The result was the forced displacement of around 750,000 Palestinians and the destruction of more than 500 villages⁴. Generations later, many survivors and their descendants continue to live in refugee camps or exile.
The Litani River further illustrates the connection between ecology and conflict. Beyond its geopolitical significance, it is also a lifeline; one that has suffered from pollution, neglect, and repeated destruction. Bridges have been destroyed, farmland damaged, and entire villages flattened, making return nearly impossible. Environmental destruction becomes a method of control, reshaping both land and possibility⁵.
Despite this, people continue to return. They cross damaged infrastructure, risk their lives, and rebuild where they can.They live where they feel they belong and to mourn their losses, and eventually to heal while reconnecting with their land.
The current escalation should not be understood in isolation. It reflects broader historical patterns of occupation, displacement, and environmental transformation. Without attention to these histories, contemporary events risk being seen as disconnected, rather than as part of an ongoing structure.
If there is anything to take from this, it is the need to remain attentive; to histories, to lived experiences, and to the environments that sustain life. The damage caused by war does not end when it is no longer in the headlines. To speak about war, then, is also to speak about ecology, responsibility, and the conditions of our shared future.
References
El-Moudden, Y. (2026, April 23). ‘We’Re attached to this land like a tree is rooted in soil’: Unexpectedly timely exhibition speaks up for the people of south lebanon. The Guardian. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2026/apr/23/were-attached-to-this-land-like-a-tree-is-rooted-in-soil-unexpectedly-timely-exhibition-speaks-up-for-the-people-of-south-lebanon
Gayle, D., & Christou, W. (2026, February 5). Israel accused of spraying cancer-linked herbicide on farms in southern lebanon. The Guardian. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/feb/05/israel-accused-of-spraying-cancer-linked-herbicide-on-farms-in-southern-lebanon
Lebanon: Israel unlawfully using white phosphorus. (2026, March 9). Human Rights Watch. https://www.hrw.org/news/2026/03/09/lebanon-israel-unlawfully-using-white-phosphorus
Shlaim, A. (n.d.). All that remains. Www.Prospectmagazine.Co.Uk. Retrieved 11 November 2026, from https://www.prospectmagazine.co.uk/world/israel/64132/all-that-remains
Taouk, M. (2026, March 27). Critical bridges across lebanon’s litani river targeted in calculated invasion plan. Abcnews. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2026-03-28/verify-mapping-israel-s-bombing-of-lebanese-bridges/106504560