Hezbollah hates Photos

Hezbollah does not let US and Israel take pictures.


BBC - 31 May 2007

Hezbollah's secret nectarines

Hezbollah flags are flown all over southern Lebanon

In southern Lebanon, where the Israeli army and Hezbollah fighters fought last year, an uneasy peace reigns. But as Darius Bazargan reports, Hezbollah remains a force to be reckoned with.

"Modern live/work space available to buy or rent: 400 sq metres in a sun drenched Mediterranean valley. Electricity, hot/cold running water, shower, fitted kitchen, air con, reinforced concrete construction, all metal walls, 100 metres under a mountain. Can withstand all known ordnance and most air strikes."


If you are looking for a place in the sun with a difference, head for Lebanon. The south of this country is riddled with such des-res properties.


They are the secret bunkers of Hezbollah, recently abandoned by the Shia Islamist guerrillas after last year's ceasefire took hold. You can find them in amongst the cluster bombs and debris of war.

I spent many a sweaty day stumbling up and down the precarious slopes of Lebanese mountains, looking for such heavily disguised sites for a documentary I was filming.

But where had all the fighters and their heavy weapons gone?

Defensive line

With over 10,000 UN peacekeepers now patrolling the ground between the Israeli border and the Litani River, it has become increasingly difficult for the militants to operate in their old stamping ground.

But I had heard that they were reinforcing a defensive line north of the Litani, just outside of the UN zone. From here, they could launch longer range rockets into Israel, over the heads of the peacekeepers.

As we drove into the misty mountains, my trusty driver Dawoud - himself a Hezbollah supporter from south Beirut - regaled me with stories about how "The Party of God" dealt with espionage during last summer's war.

"I don't know what equipment they had. But they caught these spies red-handed, put 'em up against a wall and shot the three," Dawoud said.

We drove on in silence.

"Killed 'em dead," he added.

Mysterious activity

This was not what I needed to hear at the time. We were all alone in an extremely hostile environment.

Live minefields spread out as far as the eye could see, the earth was also seeded with unexploded and unmapped cluster bombs.

All across this region, mysterious activity. Bulldozers, diggers and cement mixers could be seen abandoned on hilltops, or by the roadsides, in the middle of nowhere - but no new buildings.

There were fresh roads above us, but they were blocked off. Occasionally, cars packed with grim looking, black clad figures, sat guarding the entrances.

All around, the Lebanese Army was manning roadblocks with an unusual alacrity, but leaving the final decision as to who they should let through to a number of other bearded gentlemen, also dressed in black and who carried Motorola walkie-talkies.

Most locals were too apprehensive to do interviews, but one told us to be careful. "Hezbollah are everywhere," he said. "But you will not see them, they will see you."

Another recounted how Hezbollah had restricted her family's movements on their own farmland.

"The Boys", as she called them, had dumped several hundred tonnes of sand at the bottom of her garden and were shipping it out by truck. She had no idea where they were taking it or what they were doing.

Sand is a vital ingredient for mixing concrete. And concrete is a vital ingredient if you are building underground bunkers.

Detained by Hezbollah

We drove down one of the new roads.

What had started as a muddy cart track suddenly became a metalled road, with saplings planted on either side.

Large tennis court-sized areas had been completely smoothed off and were followed by a number of squat concrete buildings, a sentry box and painted a sign declaring the area a security zone and Hezbollah territory.

My driver panicked. In a grinding of gears he spun the vehicle around and got us out of there at high speed.

But just as we thought we had made a lucky escape I saw a dark green truck approaching. I had pushed our luck too far.

We got picked up and detained by a Hezbollah patrol.

They made us an offer we could not refuse. We were to accompany them to the dingy looking farmhouse and they would find someone who could "help us to do even better filming."

Inside the farmhouse were the rest of the Hezbollah cadre and we feared the worst.

They did not shoot us though. They sat us down in front of a big yellow Hezbollah flag and offered us sweet tea.

Then they questioned me and my driver and went through the tape in my video camera. It was blank. Luckily I had been able to swap it when they were not looking.

The Hezbollah men told me that we were in a restricted military security zone, but admitted that Hezbollah had indeed been taking over the land in the area.

"We are not forcing Christian or Druze off their land," one Hezbollahi insisted. "We're offering them a good price. They're moving of their own free will. Anyone can buy land here," he added, seemingly forgetting that it was a strict military zone.

But what to do with their surprise guests?

One man favoured formally arresting us and calling Hezbollah security agents from Beirut. Others said we were clearly a pair of nervous hacks, not spies, and just to let us go.

Secret gardens

Thankfully the latter argument prevailed. Flushed with relief, we walked back to our car. But as we were about to drive off, the strangest thing happened.

One of the Hezbollah men came running up and insisted that I had to tell the truth about what the Party of God's activities are in those forbidding mountains.

Hezbollah were not building new bunker networks, missile bases or anything military, he said. They were, in fact, moving into fruit production.

"We are going to import nectarine plants from Italy," he said. "Then we will sell our fruits on the world market. It is most important you tell the world what we are doing."

I told him absolutely, yes, of course, I would tell everyone all about the nectarines if I could just go now. Please?

It was completely unprofessional of me. But I was in such a hurry to get home safely, that I forgot to ask him whether or not Hezbollah's nectarines were going to be grown organically.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/from_our_own_correspondent/6707499.stm

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BBC - 31 May 2007

Hunting for Hezbollah

"This World" provides an exclusive insight into Hezbollah - the powerful political and military organisation of Shia Muslims in Lebanon.

In his State of the Union address, George Bush said Hezbollah was one of the most dangerous terrorist organisations in the world.

So This World hits the ground in Beirut, seeking out the "Party of God".

It is a year since the Iranian backed militants claimed victory in a bloody 33 day conflict with Israel.

"This World" investigates claims that Hezbollah are back, more powerful than ever and readying themselves for another war.

Perfect bridge

Just after we arrived in Beirut, Hezbollah's Press Office put a blanket ban on all filming activity. So this is the film they did not want you to see.

Our guide through Hezbollah-land is Dawoud Indahoud- a wise-cracking former Shia militiaman with all the right connections to the city's darkly vibrant underbelly.

He is a Hezbollah voter, but is not officially a member of the organisation.

Having lived in the US for 18 years he understands the West, but in his heart he is a loyal Shia Muslim.

Dawoud is the perfect bridge between our world and theirs.

Secret network

This World investigates how Hezbollah uses Iranian money to win the battle for hearts and minds: rebuilding houses through their Construction Jihad organisation.

Guided by Dawoud, This World meets the martyr's mother - the most hardcore Hezbollah supporter Dawoud has ever met - talks to arms dealers, and finds a new mountain stronghold.

They also discover a secret Hezbollah bunker network with electricity, running water and steel walls 100 metres underground.

Hezbollah MPs and leaders say that they are ready and waiting for the next war.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/this_world/6701117.stm

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BBC - 24 August 2006

Hezbollah's camera-shy fighters

The Lebanese army found some routes lined by Hezbollah flags


In most wars reporters have no difficulty seeing, and even talking to, soldiers or fighters.

In Bosnia, for example, you could meet one set of soldiers, race across the airport and be talking to soldiers on the other side within ten minutes.

Mind you, it was a dangerous exercise: during one such drive bullets struck between the T and the V of the large taped letters on both sides of one journalist's car.

But in Lebanon it's been a different story.

Newsnight was struck by the absence of television footage of Hezbollah fighters in action, let alone shots of fighters firing Katyusha or other rockets over the border into Israel. This despite more than 4,000 being launched, wreaking havoc among northern Israel's civilian population.

No filming

Hezbollah had delivered an edict: no filming of their fighters. They preferred all the video and photo images to be of civilians, preferably of mangled bodies in rubble.

In the southern port town of Tyre, Hezbollah representatives threatened dire consequences for anyone filming their fighters during the war.

"You'll never find real fighters to film," veteran photojournalist Bruno Stevens said as we chatted in Beirut's Hezbollah-dominated southern suburbs.

"I've come very close in Baalbek, but [Hezbollah] high command vetoed it."

Our conversation was interrupted by a missile courtesy of an Israeli F-16 - we hastily departed.

Deserted streets

Newsnight decided to seek out fighters in two cities reputed to be Hezbollah strongholds: Nabatiyeh, just north of the Litani River, and Khyam, a smaller city well to the south to which we sent our intrepid Lebanese-Canadian camerawoman Katia Jarjora to.

Not only were there no fighters in the centre of Nabatiyeh, there were hardly any people of any description. Most had evaded the Israeli attacks by seeking refuge in outlying villages.

Filming by day in the eerily deserted streets, I figured it would be best to sleep in the one village Israel had never attacked, possibly because it was solely peopled by Lebanese Maronite Christians.

Even Christian villagers, though, had been severely affected by war. They, like all of the Nabatiyeh area, had no electricity, thanks to a recent Israeli air strike on the power plant in the Mediterranean coastal city of Sidon.

My host was a civil engineer whose office in a nearby town no longer existed: it, and 20 years of files, had gone up in a puff of smoke along with the entire building. It had been hit late one night, presumably, he said, because a Hezbollah charity ran a micro-lending scheme from a part of it.

In the run up to the end of the fighting, no-one in and around Nabatiyeh believed the ceasefire would materialise, let alone hold.

Final battles

We found a well-staffed by far from crowded local hospital a very useful place: it had a generator, so we could recharge camera batteries - and it even had a warm shower. I stayed there one night - in the gynaecological ward.

It also had a great lookout point, from where we could watch the final battles along the Litani River, as Israel thrust ground troops forward, supported by aircraft fire, to seize strategic spots on the key waterway.

There were flashes from outgoing Katyushas, but mainly plumes of smoke from buildings being hit by the Israelis. Rushing to one such scene, we found Israel had hit a sprawling newly-built edifice. Inside there was a room filled with charity boxes bearing a yellow cupped-hand signs - the charity was part of Hezbollah's drive to win hearts and minds, and recruits.

In the garage of the bombed building we found a large lorry marked with these signs - but inside the cab were dozens of yellow Hezbollah flags, containing the movement's gun-bedecked emblem. Make of that what you will.

After the guns fell silent as the ceasefire took hold we raced out of the city southwards and came across a group of Hezbollah men holding a barbeque, with their children. Their wives sat at a separate table.

"This is all part of our plan: to destroy Israel and drive the Zionists out of all Palestine," one man declared. Hezbollah considers all of Israel to be Arab land. "Peace with Israel? Never."

Lebanese troops

On the Litani River, Thursday 17 August, just after dawn, we watched Lebanese army troops driving over a makeshift bridge. But Hezbollah had stolen a march on them and the army's vehicles had to rumble past a succession of lamp-posts displaying portraits of Hezbollah heroes from Ayatollah Khomeini to Hassan Nasrallah.

We continued south to Bint Jbail, scene of a bitter battle, and there found 14 Hezbollah fighters being buried. Their fellow fighters at the funeral had hidden their arms.

A pro-Syrian militia group had fought alongside Hezbollah, and were walking around the town of Khamia, openly displaying their weapons in defiance of the United Nations ceasefire resolution.

Finally we met two members of Hezbollah who, as we watched, took delivery of Kalashnikov semiautomatic weapons from a red van.

They cut short our interview after a phone call because of a sudden rise in tension. Israeli commandos had just attacked Hezbollah positions to prevent what Israel claimed was a resupply of weapons from nearby Syria.

Glimmer of hope

On the border, in Kfar Kila, as the last Israeli vehicles left that part of the south, a youngster defiantly waved a huge Hezbollah flag at the departing troops - behind the border fence but still only yards away.

His father was doing a roaring trade in his souvenir shop - selling Hassan Nasrallah posters.

On the balcony of the closest house, another young boy was waving to the Israelis on the other side.

Do you actually want peace or war? I asked him, expecting the usual answer that there would never be peace with the Jews.

Instead he said: "Yes, I believe peace will come. War just brings destruction"

Amid a generally stark scene, Ali provided a glimmer of hope.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/newsnight/5282484.stm

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