Skip to main content

The Americans losing homes to Israel’s war in Lebanon

(CNN) — Maysa Moghnie’s childhood home in south Lebanon was the culmination of decades of work. She recounts how her father spent most of his life building the palatial family compound in the village of Burj Rahal, room after room. “All the memories we have are of him building this house,” said Moghnie, an American-Lebanese dual citizen. She now lives in Irvine, California, where she is raising her own children.

Video footage of her twin sister’s engagement party two years ago, filled with joy and music, shows what a grand home it had been. A three-story compound of traditional stone walls, it featured ornate stone-column balconies with slanted red-brick roofs. The piece de resistance was a grand split staircase that landed on a spacious terrace. In the video, the family and their guests are dancing.

All of it is gone now, destroyed in an Israeli airstrike on May 9. On paper, there was a ceasefire in place, but in reality, it was a period of sustained Israeli military assaults, and Hezbollah rocket fire. The images her sister captured after the strike show the trajectory of the projectile, which ripped through floor after floor, and left a gaping hole covered in a thick layer of white dust.

By chance, her parents and her sister had left the house just three days before the strike, because her mother couldn’t sleep. “My mom couldn’t take the drones and the airplanes and all those really harsh sounds anymore,” she said. They learned of the strike through neighbors.

Moghnie is one of several American citizens who told CNN that their family homes have been destroyed in Israel’s war against Hezbollah, which the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) says is targeting enemy positions. Since the fighting resumed in March this year, after Hezbollah fired rockets into Israel following US-Israeli strikes on Iran, almost 18,000 homes have been destroyed, according to a United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) assessment published in June.

Even after the nominal ceasefire went into effect in April, Israeli forces pushed deeper into Lebanese territory. Most US citizens have now left southern Lebanon; the few that remain have stayed behind to work, to protect their business or because they are simply attached to their land. Moghnie’s mother-in-law is still there, for instance, her home still standing, despite damaged walls and shattered windows from nearby bombings.

So is Anwar Ghaida, an American business owner whose property was hit twice – once in 2024, and again earlier this year.

The first time made headlines. The strike killed three journalists who had been sleeping in one of Ghaida’s bungalows, which he rents out alongside a wedding venue in the village of Hasbaya. Ghaida thinks the strike was deliberate. The journalists were reporting for Al Manar, a Hezbollah-owned news channel, and Al Mayadeen, a pro-Iranian news network. They were among 18 journalists from various news outlets staying there while reporting on the fighting between Israel and Hezbollah that raged between September and November 2024.

The second time, Ghaida thinks the Israelis may have made a mistake. “They hit the wedding venue, mainly the kitchen area but it was empty at the time,” he said of the late evening attack. The destruction was consequential nonetheless. “My business is ruined financially. I could do weddings for 500 people, now all my kitchen equipment and furniture is gone.”

By the time of the second attack, on March 25 this year, his business had already dwindled. With the conflict raging, “nobody was getting married” and the guesthouse was no longer popular with journalists. “When they go online and they see that it has been bombed, I think they think twice before making reservations,” he said.

Two of his children live in the US, but he doesn’t have the heart to join them. “I have my brother here with his children, my mom, my sister… I’m not going to leave them,” the 60-year-old told CNN, in a phone conversation from his home in Hasbaya. Besides, he doesn’t think he could start again at his age.

At night, Ghaida hears Israeli drones overhead, despite the ceasefire. “Last night was really bad,” he said. “You could hear shelling and big explosions in different towns.”

Homes demolished

A common refrain among Lebanese-Americans is that the situation in southern Lebanon has never been so bad. Some lived through the 2006 conflict. Others remember the last time Israel occupied southern Lebanon from 1982 to 2000. Their family homes had survived it all.

But this time, Israeli tactics have been far more aggressive in the South, soldiers have razed whole villages to the ground as they seized territory.

CNN analysis of satellite imagery this spring showed that Israeli forces have destroyed civilian architecture, including mosques, pharmacies, cafes and auto repair shops. Videos filmed by residents show controlled demolitions being carried out, while satellite imagery reveals a pattern of Israeli bulldozers and excavators demolishing homes.

The destruction is taking place behind the so-called “yellow line” drawn by Israel, which marks out a six-mile-wide strip of Lebanese territory now occupied by Israeli troops, roughly covering the same land it occupied until 2000. Residents of dozens of villages have been forcibly displaced.

Israel’s defense minister has justified the destruction as a strategic decision to remove any threat of Hezbollah. Last week, the UN human rights chief Volker Türk called on Israel to end its occupation and halt the demolition of homes.

In the US, the Arab American Civil Rights League (ACRL) in Dearborn, Michigan, is preparing to file a civil lawsuit against the United States on behalf of Americans who lost homes and property in the conflict. “The American government has an obligation to protect American citizens and American property overseas,” said Nasser Beydoun, chairman of the ACRL and lead plaintiff. “A lot of these homes [in southern Lebanon that are owned by Americans] are being destroyed with our own tax dollars. So, somebody has to be held accountable.”

The suit seeks financial compensation and wants Congress to divest US aid from the Israeli military units involved in the destruction.

Behind the legal case are roughly 180 families whose ties to Lebanon span generations, like 70-year-old Mohamad Fayyad Reda, who moved back to his ancestral land after a long career with the Bank of New York on Wall Street.

“I had a decent life in the States but I was homesick. So I retired, took my pension with me and I built myself a nice home of local bricks and stones,” Reda said.

His village of Yaroun, a mixed Christian-Muslim village, sits on the border with Israel and is currently occupied by Israeli forces. No Lebanese are allowed in. With no one to bring news from home, like many refugees, Reda has been keeping tabs on his property through satellite imagery.

“After the first or the second ceasefire, that’s when they decided to demolish the house,” he said. “And they started a systematic demolition. They demolished the whole town. There are two or three homes left which they probably used as a base, but they destroyed every single house. It looked like they are trying to be there to stay.”

Reda has since moved in with his children in Winter Springs, Florida. “Even the cemetery, my mother’s bones… It is terrible, it is terrible,” Reda said over the phone.

“This time it’s much different,” confirmed Jihad Samhat, a US army veteran who fled Aynata, a village on the wrong side of the yellow line. “We’ve been occupied several times in south Lebanon,” he said, but “Lebanese people from my town maintained a presence there throughout the [previous] occupations.”

Born and raised in Los Angeles, Samhat served in the US Army’s 1st Cavalry Division before moving to Lebanon, where he spent more than 15 years working in demining and unexploded ordnance clearance with the United Nations. Then he opened Radio Beirut, a popular music venue, which he ran for nine years before closing it down after the Beirut port explosion in 2020.

When the fighting started, he relocated to the US with his wife, newborn child, mother-in-law and their dog.

They watched from afar as the destruction reached their village. “One day, I can see my home, and it’s still standing. It’s still there,” he explained. “But then a week after, I get another satellite image of the village and the house is not there anymore. It’s dust.”

The-CNN-Wire
™ & © 2026 Cable News Network, Inc., a Warner Bros. Discovery Company. All rights reserved.

Liberia once offered Black Americans a new home. Decades on, it is receiving migrants the US wants out

(CNN) — Is Liberia an American dumping ground — or a place where a new generation of arrivals can build a new life?That’s the question Liberians are asking themselves after the first people to be deported to the West African country from the United States arrived in the capital, Monrovia.The 20 people on the flight from Louisiana were the first to be sent under an agreement that could see up to 1,200 people transferred to Liberia, a country of less than 6 million people, many of them descendants of formerly enslaved Black Americans.Liberian officials said the new arrivals were from “African and western hemisphere countries.”Liberia is one of several countries that have agreed to take migrants being deported from the US under the Trump administration’s anti-immigration crackdown. The arrivals are coming to a nation whose history is deeply tied to migration from the US.Nearly two centuries ago, free and formerly enslaved Black Americans crossed the Atlantic to settle in what would become Liberia – a name that translates as “land of the free.”Now, a country shaped in part by that migration is accepting people the US wants to remove.For Liberians, that has thrown up a mix of feelings in a country still recovering from a long and bloody civil war.“This country is going through a lot, and having more people come in — can we handle all of this?” said Pheta Morris, 48, a descendant of the Black Americans who settled in Liberia.But she said she sees the new arrivals through the lens of Liberia’s history and is struck by the contrast.“I think about the Americo-Liberians — people who were rejected where they were and needed somewhere to go, and Liberia opened its arms to them,” she said.“Back then, people needed somewhere they could be free, accepted and welcomed. Now, people are being rejected from the US, and Liberia is opening its doors to them.”The first transfer has already faced complications.Reuters reported that five migrants who refused to disembark after arriving in Monrovia were flown instead to Equatorial Guinea in Central Africa, where they are held with more than 30 other migrants previously sent there by the US.A US State Department spokesperson said implementing the Trump administration’s immigration policies was a “top priority,” adding that the department generally does not comment on private diplomatic communications with other governments.CNN has contacted Liberia’s information ministry for more details about the agreement and its terms.A country shaped by AmericaThe first group of free Black Americans arrived in Liberia in the early 1820s.Over the following decades, thousands more made the journey, with the American Colonization Society helping to establish settlements along the West African coast. The US State Department says about 16,000 Black Americans migrated to Liberia during the 19th century.The migration was complicated. Some Black Americans saw Liberia as a chance to escape racism and build a new life, while others opposed the colonization movement and rejected the idea that free Black people should leave the US.Africans rescued from slave ships by the US Navy were also brought to Liberia. The settlements eventually formed the Republic of Liberia, which declared independence in 1847.The American influence remains visible today. Liberia’s flag resembles that of the US; its capital was named Monrovia after America’s fifth President James Monroe, and its early institutions were heavily influenced by Washington.Conmany Wesseh, a former Liberian lawmaker and member of the ruling Unity Party who was nominated as Liberia’s ambassador to the United Nations and later the European Union under former president Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, said that history continues to shape how Liberians view the US.For Wesseh though, the arrival of the deportees raises a more immediate question: Can Liberia, a country still struggling with basic infrastructure and services, accommodate more people?The cost of taking them inLiberia began rebuilding after a 14-year civil war ended in 2003, but Wesseh said the country still needs major investment. Poverty levels remain high and youth unemployment stands at 40%, according to African Development Bank data.“Our country needs a great deal of support,” he said. “We are short on medical facilities, and we have problems with education.”He questioned how the country would manage an influx of people from abroad.“They will have to go to the same hospitals. You won’t create a new hospital for them,” he said. “There’s no spare housing. We don’t have existing housing to put new people in.”Wesseh said Liberia’s development needs may have influenced the government’s decision, with officials hoping the agreement would bring support from Washington.Liberian authorities described the arrangement as humanitarian and said the deportees will be treated as guests who can seek asylum or leave the country.Asked whether he viewed the deal as humanitarian assistance, a diplomatic arrangement or the US outsourcing its immigration enforcement, Wesseh chose the latter.“I think (the administration of US President Donald Trump) just sees this as a place to dump people,” he said. “They want to take them off their hands and dump them in this country.”A chance for a new startFrancis Dennis had long known that his family had roots in the migration of Black Americans to Liberia in the 19th century. But just a few weeks ago, he became curious about his family’s past and began using AI genealogy tools to dig deeper into that history.The 71-year-old former president of the Liberia Chamber of Commerce told CNN he traced his great-great-great-grandfather to Snow Hill, a town on Maryland’s Eastern Shore in the US, using the technology and notes left by his father.He said the research also pointed him to the name of the vessel that carried his ancestor across the Atlantic to Liberia, along with a list of its passengers.Generations later, Dennis is watching another group arrive in Liberia from the US. But he does not believe their circumstances have to define what comes next.“People may have their apprehension about a new life, but it’s also an opportunity,” he said. “Some may be happy, some may resent it, but it opens a new window, a new opportunity.”His own ancestor crossed the Atlantic generations ago and became part of the community that helped shape modern Liberia.Now, he hopes those arriving under very different circumstances will also see the country as a chance for a fresh start.“The ball will be in their court,” Dennis said. “Are they going to seize it as an opportunity for a new start, a fresh start, a new life? Or will they be thinking about the past?”The-CNN-Wire™ & © 2026 Cable News Network, Inc., a Warner Bros. Discovery Company. All rights reserved.
Read Next Story