By Maya Gebeily and Emilie Madi
BEIRUT, April 22 (Reuters) - An Israeli invasion of southern Lebanon, bombings in Beirut, massive displacement and rising sectarian friction. The year is 2026, but for those who lived through Lebanon's civil war five decades ago, it may as well be the 1970s.
Lebanese who fought in the 1975-1990 war or documented it as journalists told Reuters they feel echoes of the intercommunal tensions and violence they witnessed then, and see a risk of renewed fighting among Lebanese.
The latest war that erupted on March 2 between Israel and Lebanese armed group Hezbollah has deepened enmity between the Iran-backed group and its domestic opponents, pushing Lebanon's fragile state and society towards breaking point.
A short-term ceasefire is meant to allow for peace negotiations between Lebanon and Israel, with the U.S. to host a second round of talks on Thursday. But it is also sharpening the divide between the government and Hezbollah, which is firmly opposed to such negotiations.
'DON'T REPEAT OUR EXPERIENCE,' EX-FIGHTER SAYS
Lebanon's civil war erupted in April 1975 when sectarian and economic tensions boiled over into clashes between Christian gunmen and Palestinian fighters, then expanded to draw in other communities and countries.
Around one million people fled their homes, a figure the most recent conflict, with 1.2 million displaced, has already surpassed. Beirut became a battleground. Israel invaded in 1978, occupying a strip of southern Lebanon similar to the territory it has just reoccupied. From 1976-2005 Syria deployed troops to Lebanon -- an idea that was floated to Damascus last year.
Ziad Saab, 68, squinted as he read a handwritten letter he received in 1981 from a friend on the frontline, detailing Israeli bombardment on some of the same southern villages Israel recently struck.
"This letter could be written today," said Saab, who fought alongside Lebanon's Communist Party at the time and now heads Fighters for Peace, an organization founded by former combatants.
Internal divisions underpinning Lebanon's civil war were never reconciled, he said, warning Lebanese against turning on each other.
"Don't repeat our experience. Because you'll be surprised where it will take you," Saab said, speaking to Reuters at his home in Beirut. "We ripped the country apart."
For Saab, the bombardments of April 8, when rapid Israel strikes across Lebanon killed more than 300 people, "basically brought back the scenes of the whole civil war in seconds".
RECENT CONFLICTS BRING SPLITS TO THE SURFACE
Hezbollah was founded in 1982 at the civil war's peak and was the only group to retain arms after it ended. After Israel withdrew in 2000, Hezbollah expanded its arsenal and deepened its sway over Lebanon's government. Internal clashes broke out in 2008 and 2021.
But after a 2024 war with Israel badly weakened Hezbollah, a new Lebanese government backed by the U.S. vowed to disarm it.
Lebanese troops began to confiscate its arms gradually, fearing a confrontation if they seized Hezbollah's arsenal by force.
When Hezbollah fired into Israel on March 2 in support of Iran, some Lebanese blamed it for pulling the country into a new conflict. Some also blamed the wider Shi'ite community, from which Hezbollah draws its popular support.
Meanwhile, Shi'ite Muslims, who have borne the brunt of wars with Israel and see Hezbollah as their only defence, have criticised the state for failing to protect them. Several Shi'ites displaced by Israeli strikes told Reuters they saw Lebanon's top officials as "traitors".
Patrick Baz, a Lebanese photographer, said divisions among Lebanese youth made a new internal conflict possible, citing scenes of armed Christian men, angry at Hezbollah over the war, firing in the air during a funeral of a Christian politician killed in an Israeli strike this month.
Baz, who learned the craft in the civil war's early days and spent his adulthood documenting it, pointed to universities, often a microcosm of broader political tensions.
"I'm sure if you go to universities today and you tell them to carry guns and go and fire at your political opponents or someone you don't like, they will do it," he said.
CEASEFIRE DEAL 'RECIPE' FOR CONFRONTATION
Last week's announcement of a temporary ceasefire brought welcome respite after more than five weeks of Israeli strikes that killed nearly 2,300 people.
But the deal leaves key issues unaddressed. It neither requires Israeli troops to withdraw from Lebanon nor explicitly demands Hezbollah's disarmament. It sets Beirut on track for peace talks with Israel, fiercely opposed by some Lebanese across sectarian divides.
A diplomat working on Lebanon described the text as a "detailed recipe for internal confrontation."
Rafic Bazerji, a senior figure in a Lebanese Christian armed group during the civil war, said deals that don't have "a good foundation" are doomed to reignite tensions, citing the Taif Agreement which ended the civil war but was never fully implemented, and the government's unfinished plan to disarm Hezbollah.
Bazerji now owns a guesthouse in the mountains southeast of Beirut and heads the Latin League in Lebanon, which represents Latin Christians, one of the country's many religious groups.
He taught his two adult sons to shoot and sees a young generation that could take up arms.
"As much as we were, in our days, fanatics and we were excited to fight, I'm seeing today a new generation that is scary. We're kids compared to them," he told Reuters.
Lebanese were worried about reliving the 1975-1990 war, when around 150,000 were killed, he added, but splits over Hezbollah, Israel and other key issues could tip into violence.
"In the end, if we can avoid it, we avoid it. But if the razor reaches our throats, we're also not going to take it lying down," Bazerji said.
(Writing by Maya Gebeily; Editing by Aidan Lewis)
