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Dressed in combat fatigues and a worn camouflage bucket hat, farmer Elazar Baruch calmly advises a group of visitors to his village in northern Israel to move two metres to the right, off a nondescript dirt track and behind the cover of a house. If they do not, they could be shot dead at any moment, he says.
“Anywhere you can see Lebanon you have to be careful,” says Mr Baruch, an M-16 rifle over his shoulder, ready to engage an enemy that could cross into his village in a matter of seconds. "If we can see Hezbollah, Hezbollah can see us."
For 11 months, the Israeli and a small band of fellow residents have stalked the empty lanes and roads in their home of Zarit, a small village 100 metres from the border with Lebanon, as Israel stands on the brink of full-blown war with Lebanese militant group Hezbollah, an extremely capable and well-equipped fighting force that has haunted Israel for decades, alongside its main backer, Iran.
Separated from their families and normal life, fighters like Mr Baruch have taken cover from rockets, missiles and drones on an almost daily basis. They have fought blazes in their fruit fields, vital for the community’s income, sparked by falling shrapnel. They have prepared defences in case of escalation, possibly even a ground invasion by Hezbollah special forces.
This week, after a series of political events in Israel and shocking escalations, such an event is closer than ever. Hezbollah vowed Israel would get “fair punishment” for an attack on Tuesday night in which pagers held by Hezbollah operatives exploded, killing at least nine people and injuring thousands. Earlier in the week, reports swirled in Israeli media that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu was on the brink of firing his defence minister, in part because of the latter’s reluctance to launch a campaign in Lebanon.
“From where you were just standing, down the track, past the mushroom farm and to that house you see up there, all of that is about 300 metres – it’s nothing,” Mr Baruch says, trying to explain the daily danger he faces while pointing to the ruins of a home down a dusty track on the Lebanese side – cover for snipers.
Judging by the parts of the house still standing, the former owner took great care of the place. Grand columns line one section of the outside walls, but the rest is destroyed by Israeli strikes, Mr Baruch says, after shots were fired from the area towards Zarit. It has stood empty for months.
Mr Baruch took The National to a similar house in Zarit, where a foot-deep crater marks the spot where a Burkan rocket fired by Hezbollah struck the family home. Garden furniture and walls bear marks of the explosion, which also blasted open a wall in a neighbouring house.
The house was empty at the time and no one was injured. Zarit has been mostly empty since October, when Israel evacuated more than 60,000 people living along its northern border. It is a safety measure that has saved lives but inflicted a heavy personal toll on families and a huge cost to the state which is footing the bill for temporary accommodation and other financial support to evacuees. More have been displaced across the border in southern Lebanon.
The fate of the Israeli evacuees is a domestic political scandal that grows by the day for Mr Netanyahu, whose opponents accuse him of, among other failures, not doing enough to restore security in the north. In yet another sign of how tense things have become in recent days, Mr Netanyahu’s government made the return of evacuated residents to the north an official war goal on Tuesday.
“Nothing is OK here,” Mr Baruch says. “It’s difficult but this is our home. Everyone still here is from this place.” The remaining residents are, like him, part of Zarit's local rapid response force, known in Israel as “kitat konenut”. Scattered along the northern front, the groups are made up of residents with military experience. They can seem ragtag, comprising mostly men of different ages and levels of fitness, but the Israeli military deems them crucial to defending border areas given their extensive knowledge of the terrain and their ability to respond to incidents quickly.
The mood in Zarit on Monday was the most aggressive The National has seen in several visits to the deserted north since hostilities between Israel and Hezbollah began on October 8, one day after Hamas and other Palestinian armed groups launched an attack on southern Israel, killing about 1,200 people and kidnapping about 250 more.
Israel’s subsequent campaign in Gaza has so far killed more than 41,200 people, according to Palestinian health authorities. Lt Col Jordan Herzberg, a senior Israeli military officer who briefed The National in Zarit, said Lebanon should expect far worse than what has happened in Gaza if Israel unleashes its full military power on Hezbollah.
“The destruction in Lebanon is going to be on a different level to Gaza,” he said, speaking in a bomb shelter at the edge of Zarit after reports of a suicide drone overhead. “Hezbollah is a different level of enemy. Iran has built a ring of fire around us. Hezbollah is their biggest investment.
“I feel like a horse in a stable that’s ready to race. Morale is sky high. I’ve been in the army 30 years and I’ve never seen this before. Left-wing, right-wing, religious, secular, Ashkenazi, Sephardi,” he said. “We have troops on their third tour of duty. They’re fathers, business owners, students and their morale is still sky high. We haven’t had support for a war like this in decades. It’s amazing to see.”
Lt Col Herzberg believes that more than just defeating Hezbollah, Israel must win this battle to stay true to its founding mission. “In the Zionist ethos, we have always farmed until the [border] fence. Since 1967, when it was established, Zarit has been an example of farming until the fence. That stopped on October 7 … That’s why we’re insisting Hezbollah goes eight to 10 kilometres from the fence. They’re going to have to do that. Either with a [diplomatic] agreement, or with an agreement after a large ground war. We prefer an agreement before a large war.”
Mr Baruch has the same sense of purpose and demands. With tzitzit – ritual strings worn by religious Jewish men – that dangle by his assault rifle, he says he was “never worried about the border”. “I’m religious. Israel is for Israel. I will stay here for my country. If we were not here someone else would be and not from our side. The enemy would be even closer,” he says.
“I’m not a person for war, I’m a person for God. God can make things happen, just like that, without need for a war necessarily. But if I need to do my part I will. To get my family back we need a feeling of security. Like we can stand in the middle of that road you were on and be sure we won’t be killed.”
With tensions between the adversaries at an unprecedented level, exactly how Israel chooses to try to bring back Mr Baruch’s family and the sense of safety they used to enjoy could be made clear in the coming days.
