Land and Skies Uncared for Becomes Everyone’s Stage

Land and Skies Uncared for Becomes Everyone’s Stage

This afternoon, Keserwan shook. Fragments of an Iranian missile—intercepted by an Israeli one—fell randomly over residential areas.

In neighborhoods, between homes, with no regard for place or people. No one was injured. But what truly fell was the sense of safety.

What happened captured, in a single moment, the reality as a whole:
Iran sends its missiles across Lebanon, using its airspace as an open corridor to settle its scores—regardless of whether the intended target is the U.S. embassy in Awkar, Cyprus, or elsewhere.

Israel intercepts overhead, turning all neighborhoods into a testing ground for its missiles.
And the United States—the presumed target—responds with vague statements, as if nothing had happened.

Amid all this, the state is absent. No control over the skies, no capacity on the ground, and no presence beyond official statements.

Today, there were no casualties. But it became clear that Lebanon has been turned into an open passage—its airspace violated, its territory exposed to whatever may fall from above.

A land left open to anyone who wants to pass, and a sky open to anyone who wants to strike. People are left alone, under missiles whose origin and trajectory they do not know, facing a reality where no place is truly safe.

No one was killed today. But once again, every promise of protection and security collapsed.