Middle East: May 25, 2000, remains etched in Lebanon’s collective memory as a day of triumph and resilience—a day when the long-occupied lands of South Lebanon were finally liberated from Zionist occupation.

The people returned to their villages, Hezbollah flags fluttered triumphantly in the wind, and victory signs were raised by those who had endured decades of suffering.

What began as a modest resistance movement in 1982 had, by then, grown into a formidable force—Hezbollah had evolved from an underestimated paramilitary group into a powerful symbol of steadfastness and national pride.

This victory not only redefined the identity of southern Lebanon but also sent a resounding message across the Arab world: occupation can be overcome.

Yet this year’s Liberation Day carries a different weight. For the first time, it arrives without the visible presence of Hezbollah’s Secretary-General, Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah.

His absence on such a symbolic day raises pressing questions about the shifting dynamics of the battlefield, both military and psychological.  

The shadow of Khiam: A prison of pain and resistance

To truly grasp the significance of Liberation Day, one must revisit the horrors of Khiam Prison. Originally constructed in the 1930s by the French Mandate as a military barracks, Khiam later served the Lebanese Army before falling under the control of the South Lebanon Army (SLA), Israel’s proxy militia.

Under Zionist occupation, it became one of the most notorious detention centers in West Asia.

Over 5,000 Lebanese resistance fighters, supporters, and civilians—including women—were imprisoned in his dark cells. The torture methods inflicted there remain a dark stain on the conscience of international law:

Brutal beatings with cables, batons, and fists lasting for hours.

Electric shocks often applied to sensitive areas of the body, including the genitals.

Prolonged solitary confinement in pitch-black, airless cells lasting weeks or months.

Sleep deprivation aimed at breaking both body and spirit.

Threats of sexual violence, especially against female detainees.

The “punishment cell”—a damp, lightless box where prisoners were left for days in their own waste, exposed to extreme weather, and given barely enough food or water to survive.

While the SLA carried out much of the daily torment, the prison itself remained under Israeli command. As liberation approached, Khiam became one of the first powerful symbols of occupation to fall, freed two days before the final Israeli withdrawal on May 25.

That day marked not only the reclaiming of land but also the restoration of dignity for the Lebanese people.

Khiam Today: Memory and martyrdom

Though no longer funcitonal, the ruins of Khiam Prison still exist—haunted by the memories of those who passed through its gates.

In 2006, during the war between the Zionist entity and Hezbollah, enemy warplanes bombed the site, destroying large sections of the facility. Many believe this was done to erase evidence of the crimes committed within its walls.

Yet, the legacy of Khiam endures. The town itself, nestled among southern Lebanon’s rolling hills, continues to thrive in its quiet way. Known for its agriculture—olives, figs, za’atar, and dairy products—Khiam represents a rebirth, a defiant return to life after trauma.

Today, Khiam Prison stands not as a place of fear, but as a living museum of memory and resilience. Its gates, once closed to the world, are now open for all to walk through the echoes of history—to see, to remember, and to bear witness.

On August 19, 2000, just months after the liberation of South Lebanon, Hezbollah’s then-Secretary General, Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, alongside Sheikh Nabil Qawuk, visited the Khiam Prison—specifically, the very cell where Suha Beshara had been held in brutal captivity. (AFP)

Inside, remnants of the occupation remain untouched: rusted enemy tanks, tattered clothing, discarded armor, and the haunting cells where Lebanese detainees were once tortured. The tools of oppression have been frozen in time, no longer weapons of fear but artifacts of truth.

What was once a chamber of pain has become a classroom of remembrance. The Lebanese people, in turning this place of trauma into a monument of endurance, have transformed their suffering into strength. They did not bury their wounds, they built from them.

Khiam now stands as a solemn reminder that even in the face of brutal occupation, the spirit of resistance cannot be broken.

A Liberation Day without Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah

This year, South Lebanon’s Liberation Day feels undeniably different. The absence of Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, who was martyred in September 2024, casts a heavy shadow over the celebrations. His voice, once the thunder of defiance and the calm of reassurance, no longer echoes through our commemorations.

And while the weight of his absence is deeply felt, it does not strip the day of its meaning. Victory must still be celebrated. In May 2023, Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah himself reminded us:

“Those who think that the battle with the Israeli enemy has ended are delusional, as there is still a part of our land under occupation. Some seek to devalue the achieved victory, and we must prevent that. All generations, all the Lebanese people, must be reminded that the victory we achieved did not come just like that; rather, it was the fruit of many years of sacrifices.”

This liberation—this victory—was not accidental. It was carved out through decades of sacrifice, strategy, and steadfastness, much of which was shaped by the wisdom and leadership of Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah.

Alongside him stood many Hezbollah commanders and countless sons of Lebanon who chose to fight for their homeland’s dignity, freedom, and future. To allow his martyrdom to eclipse the victory he helped shape would be to dishonour both his message and his memory.

He asked us to remember, to celebrate, and to protect this triumph from those who would belittle it. Even in grief, we must not let mourning drown the meaning. The resistance lives on, and the land he loved still breathes with the spirit of defiance.

Liberation Day is not only a remembrance of what was won, but also a vow to protect what was never surrendered.

Ghadir Khumm is a university student in Canada pursuing a master’s degree, focusing on postcolonial studies while also dedicating her time to international relations.

By Ghadir Khumm 

Source: Press TV