Israel bombs bridges connecting southern Lebanon to the rest of the country

BeirutThe building is gone. Where until this morning there was a multi-story structure in Bashoura, in the center of Beirut, there is now an open void, a pile of still-smoldering rubble, and neighbors walking in silence, dodging broken glass and cables. Dust still hangs in the air hours after the impact.

Mohamed, his hands trembling—one holding a cigarette, the other a water bottle—tries to make sense of what happened. "Today, for me, Ramadan ends… I hope Allah understands, but we were terrified. Our home is in the building next door, and for a moment I thought we were going to lose it. May God give us strength."

"They told us to evacuate, but we never imagined this," adds another neighbor, his gaze fixed on what remains of his street. Around him, doors ripped off their hinges, balconies dangling, and shops destroyed. The attack came at dawn, after a night marked by a barrage of bombings in different parts of the city. It wasn't a single hit; there were several, and that's what those who experienced it keep repeating: the feeling that there was no safe moment, that each explosion could be the next.

Beirut awoke in shock. Not only because of what happened in Bashoura. Two other attacks struck central neighborhoods of the capital, Basta and Zoqaq al-Blat, where at least twelve people died, reinforcing the feeling that the front line has moved into the very heart of the city. "This isn't just against Hezbollah anymore, this is against the whole country," says another resident, gesturing to the destruction around him. The phrase sums up a growing sentiment, especially among those who believed that downtown Beirut would remain a relatively safe haven.

This line has just disappeared. The Lebanese Ministry of Health has reported 56 deaths in the last 24 hours, bringing the total number of victims to 968. since the start of the war on March 2.

A sustained campaign

But the attacks cannot be explained solely by what happened in Bashoura. They are part of a broader campaignIn the south of the country, Israel has intensified its bombing campaign against key infrastructure and destroyed two more bridges over the Litani River, bringing the number of crossings attacked since the start of the offensive to at least five. Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz himself claimed responsibility for the attacks on "two additional bridges over the Litani River" and stated that their destruction should be understood as a "clear message" to the Lebanese authorities. The objective is clear: to sever connections, isolate entire areas of the country, and increase pressure on the Lebanese state. Warnings from Israel point to a further escalation. Katz has insisted in recent days that Lebanon "will pay an increasingly higher price" if Hezbollah is not stopped, rhetoric that foreshadows new phases in the offensive.

On the ground, the Lebanese army has begun to move, albeit with obvious limitations. Despite having withdrawn from several positions south of the Litani River since the start of operations, it repositioned units in the town of Chebaa, where it asserted it would maintain a presence. This gesture seeks to project state authority, but it also highlights the fragility of that control in the face of the conflict's dynamics. Meanwhile, the strategy appears to be advancing in parallel on several fronts: pressure on the capital, destruction of infrastructure, and the progressive isolation of key areas. All of this fuels the perception that the campaign is not a one-off event, but a sustained one.

In Bashoura, rescue teams continued working throughout the day. Occasionally, someone shouted for silence. The residents waited with anger and indignation. Some watched, others tried to help. No one strayed far.

What has changed is not only the magnitude of the attack, but its meaning. Downtown Beirut is no longer a safe haven. The war has reached it. And with the war comes the feeling that nowhere is completely safe anymore.