Two days after the Beirut port blast anniversary, Israeli sonic booms over Lebanon retrigger traumas

Only two days after communities in Beirut marked the anniversary of the devastating port explosion that killed more than 250 people four years ago, the city and its suburbs were rocked by the horrifying and intense sounds of Israeli warplanes breaking the sound barriers. 

This wasn't the first time Israel set off such bombs. Since 7 October, and the hostilities exchanged between Israel and Lebanese military group Hezbollah, Israeli jets have breached the sound barriers in Lebanese skies multiple times.
However, the timing of Tuesday's blasts, coinciding with the anniversary, amidst heightened and widespread fears of escalation between Hezbollah and Israel, and only minutes before an anticipated speech by the Islamic movement's Secretary-General, Hassan Nasrallah, jointly triggered deep-running alarm amidst the masses.

Yara Naufal, a Beirut-based psychologist, said she was inundated with requests from individuals seeking psychological help following the recent sound barrier breach. 

"We've received numerous calls and visits from individuals directly impacted by these terrifying sounds," Naufal explains. "Their reactions ranged from intense panic and confusion to physical symptoms like rapid heartbeats and sweating. Many described feeling as though they were transported back to the moment of the explosion, experiencing recurring traumatic memories and nightmares. Some felt a deep sense of helplessness and fear of a similar event happening again," she told The New Arab by phone, referring to the Beirut port explosion, traces of which still remain in parts of the Lebanese capital. 

Naufal also points out that, with many patients associating these sounds with the Beirut port explosion, traumatic memories have resurfaced, with many people reporting a renewed sense of grief and loss. "Some have reported feeling severe distress and deep depression during this period," she adds.

Behavioural impact has been almost instant, she notes. Since Tuesday, patients noted that their interactions with their surroundings have changed, whether places or socially. "Some individuals have started avoiding areas that remind them of the explosion, which has further increased their anxiety and depression," she says.

The sound barrier is the resistance a plane encounters when it reaches the speed of sound. When an aircraft breaks through this barrier, a conical vacuum forms due to pressure changes, and as air rushes back to fill this void, it results in a bellowing sound. While the physical damage is typically limited to broken windows, the psychological impact is profound, triggering panic and fear among the Lebanese people.

'I expected blood'

For months, particularly since Hezbollah became involved in an exchange of fire at the borders with Israel, Lebanese people have been living in a constant state of intimidation and anxiety, adding to the economic pressures the country grapples with for years. The mental and emotional strain has been worsened by recurring Israeli raids over Beirut, and the deafening sonic blasts are seen not to target physical damage, but rather deliberately instil fear and anxiety among the population.

Thirty-three-year-old Nevine Mousawi, 33, a single mother and fitness trainer, was driving home from work with her 10-year-old daughter singing along to the music playing in the car. With the music on, and the car's windows sealed shut, Mousawi said she didn't hear the sound of the planes. "But when I saw people looking up at the sky with concern, I felt something was wrong. I hurriedly opened the window, and at that moment, the terrifying sound hit," she recalls.

"Instantly, I expected blood to cover my body, and it felt like time stood still for a few seconds. I left my car with all my belongings inside and screamed at my daughter to get out immediately. I didn't fully comprehend what had happened at that moment, but the sound I heard was the same one that accompanied the Beirut port explosion before the glass shattered around me," she says in rushed words, reliving the moment.

According to Noufal, such reactions and thoughts were common amidst those who sought her help, including severe anxiety, panic attacks, flashbacks of traumatic memories, and physical issues such as headaches and stomach aches. "These incidents could potentially lead to the long-term development of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in some individuals," Noufal warns, adding that early intervention, strengthening social support, and raising awareness about the early symptoms of PTSD are all important to help people cope. "We also advise developing coping techniques such as relaxation, ensuring adequate sleep, and seeking professional help if symptoms persist," she concludes.

'Emotional numbness'

Psychologist Ali El-Attar explains that while some people have become accustomed to the idea of the sound barrier and can process it, thus developing a more manageable reaction, there are others, however, who experience panic attacks, triggering underlying traumas, and for some, it reaches a peak where they experience emotional numbness. This numbness isn't because they've adapted or understand what's happening, but because they are unable to cope with the event.

Khaled Al-Qadi, 55, a father of two, says with evident concern: "Even though we know that what we're hearing is a sonic boom due to our past experiences that help us distinguish bomb sounds from other noises, the panic is there every time. The uncertainty we're living in, and the psychological warfare, create immense pressure on us, making every sudden sound feel like a real threat."

With a voice trembling with emotions, Al-Qadi narrates how his 23-year-old son experienced severe panic following the blasts. "He started trembling and breathing rapidly for over half an hour. I was left helpless and deeply worried. We are still struggling to move past the memories of the Beirut explosion, and the sound of a door slamming shut can bring back those painful memories in an instant. Imagine what a sonic boom does to us?"

Similarly, 18-year-old Mira Ghandoor said she was overtaken by the thought of "we're going to die" when the blasts were set off. "My fear grew when I saw my mother collapsing and crying. I told myself, 'she knows more than I do; this must be the end," she remarked. 

"I had never heard a sonic boom before; it was so loud that it terrified me. I thought it was an explosion—the sound was just like the Beirut port explosion." Ghandoor adds.

This piece was published in collaboration with Egab.