A young Lebanese woman wears a blouse with rolled-up sleeves. Her head is wrapped in a large kerchief tied behind her hair. In front of her is a long low board. On it is a layer of flour. To her right is the oven, consisting of two pieces of stone supporting a brass tray. The woman flattens a piece of dough on the low board, then spreads it out on the tray so it covers its entire surface.
The same place after sunset. The farmers return to their homes. The roads gradually empty out. From one house comes the sound of a girl singing:
‘‘Oh Mama, from Tel Zaatar
I’ll send you a letter
From a green tent
To tell you what it’s like here.
Oh Mama, from Tel Zaatar
Rockets burns the houses.
Oh Mama, the wounded are dying
Beirut wails and weeps
There’s no more houses there…’’
Darkness wraps itself fully around the roads. The howling of a wolf echoes in the distance.
Title card:
And suddenly…
Illumination bombs rain down one after the other on the fields. Massive explosions. Tongues of flame dart out in every direction.
Title card:
At 1 am on March 15, 1978, the concentrated Israeli attack began for the operation which computers had electronically assigned the name “Father of Wisdom”, but which afterwards was known as Operation Litani. Thirty thousand soldiers participated in it, reinforced by planes, tanks and squadrons. The stated goal of the operation was “creating a security zone 10 kilometers deep”.
Some hours later, Begin issued a statement in which he said, “There are days in which all citizens of Israel, as well as those of goodwill in different countries, say: ‘Full respect to the Israeli Army.’ And this day is one of those days. Over the last twenty-four hours, in poor geographical and air conditions, the Israeli Army has accomplished the task which the government placed on its shoulders, along a 100-kilometer-wide front.”
A circle in pen around a paragraph from a book by Ezer Weizman, The Battle for Peace: ‘‘A few minutes after the first Israeli tank crossed the border into southern Lebanon, the telephone rang in the office of Eliazer Raymond, the head of our delegation in Cairo. In spite of the late hour, the leadership in Tel Aviv issued instructions to Raymond to call the head of the Egyptian spy services — General Shawkat — to deliver to him an important message. Raymond notified Shawkat: ‘A short time ago, our forces began a limited operation on the Lebanese border to remove terrorist bases from the region. I hope that this limited operation will not hinder the talks between our two countries.’ ’’
Dust-yellow Israeli Army tanks advance along a country road. On both sides are Palestinian children, handcuffed and blindfolded. Fires consume entire villages. People run in fear. Houses collapse. Blood on faces. Corpses in the road. A three-year-old girl with blood gushing from her severed leg. A gunman wearing Palestinian insignia fires from the top of a hill. A mortar strikes the hill and it explodes.
A circle in pen around a paragraph from the memoirs of Muhammad Ibrahim Kamil, Egyptian foreign minister: “The morning after the Israeli invasion… I called President Sadat in his presidential retreat in El-Qanater El-Khairia to show him the statement I’d prepared… concerning the attack… but I wasn’t able to talk to him because he was still sleeping. After that, I continued to try to reach him several more times, at regular intervals, but without success… So I went ahead and published the statement without waiting for Sadat’s opinion about it, since the situation was embarrassing to Egypt, especially in the eyes of the Arab world…
“At 1.30 in the afternoon, Sadat called me at the ministry and asked me in a yawning voice why I had been trying to reach him by phone several times that morning, and I replied that it concerned the Israeli attack on Lebanon.
“With a laugh, Sadat said: ‘Have they given them their thrashing yet?’ I didn’t know what he meant by that, so I asked him, ‘Sir?’ And he replied, ‘I mean, have they taught them a lesson yet or not?’ And I finally understood that he meant, ‘Have the Israelis taught the Palestinians a lesson?’”
The town of Marjayoun. Two beautiful young women in the uniform of the Phalangist militia have guns slung over their shoulders and are directing Israeli tanks through the narrow village street. They exchange words in Hebrew with Israeli soldiers.
A van carrying several European journalists makes its way along a dusty road surrounded by trees and rocks. Along the side of the road are wrecked Soviet-made armored cars. From a distance the sound of bombs from Israeli planes reverberates. A Lebanese gunman is in charge of steering the van. Through a loudspeaker, he says: “We Christians have made an alliance with the Jewish people.” Young men in the military uniform of the Phalangist militia and Saad Haddad’s forces wave to the passengers in the van. The van approaches the village of Klayaa. People come out onto the roads. Some of them call out: “Shalom! Welcome!” Several girls run behind the van and throw rice on it.
The village of Tibnin. White flags on the roofs and balconies of some homes whose appearance suggests that their owners are wealthy. A Lebanese vendor leans contentedly against a Mercedes, having spread out on the ground packets of cigarettes, bottles of whiskey, playing cards and condoms.
The town of Khiam. Wind whistles through shattered windows. An empty tin can rolls around, making an eerie clatter. The town is completely destroyed, with no trace of human life.
Title card:
The town of Khiam had a population of 140 thousand Shia before the Israeli attack.
The town mosque.
Title card:
Under the supervision of Israeli forces, the troops of breakaway Lebanese leader Saad Haddad gathered over one hundred Shia — men, women and children — in this mosque, and set them on fire.
The town of Marjayoun. Ezer Weizman, Israeli minister of defense, inspects the village. Saad Haddad walks up to Weizman and his companions. He stands at attention silently in front of them, then gives the military salute. He puts his arms around Weizman’s neck and hugs him for a long time, with tears pouring from his eyes.
Haddad: “All our respect to the Israeli Army. In the name of all Lebanese, I offer a greeting to the Israeli Army.”
A circle around a paragraph from Israel’s Davar newspaper: “The leader Haddad and the scholar Francis Rizq, teacher of literature in Klayaa and Haddad’s political advisor, are two cheerful and goodhearted individuals, especially when they are under the protection of the Israeli Army. Their happiness shows because they are basking in the light of Israeli and world opinion. They are prepared to answer questions from the press in Hebrew, Arabic, English and French.”
A convoy of green Land Rovers. The first car carries the leader Saad Haddad who wears the uniform of the Lebanese Army. He is surrounded by his men, armed with American machineguns. The cars pass through an abandoned village. Some of them stop in the village square.
One of Saad Haddad’s gunmen emerges from a house in the village balancing a wooden table on his head. He heads toward the Land Rover, puts the table in it, and goes back the way he came. Another gunman helps a colleague carry a big gas oven. A third gunman, annoyed, examines the contents of an abandoned house. He only finds a long steel rod, and in exasperation, he picks it up.