Two years ago, Dr. Mohammed Ziara watched Gaza’s hospitals collapse under Israeli bombardment. Ambulances were struck mid-run, patients fled in panic, and the city’s fragile health system was reduced to chaos. Today, he sees the same pattern unfolding in Lebanon.

Israel has advanced deep into southern Lebanon in a campaign against Hezbollah, the Iran-backed group and political party that wields de facto control over much of the Shiite population.

Israeli officials have openly modeled their operations on the Gaza offensive that followed Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, incursion.

In a psychological and military campaign, warplanes last month dropped leaflets over Beirut, warning that after "great success in Gaza, a new reality is coming to Lebanon, too.”

"I’ve lived this before,” Ziara, a Gaza City surgeon specializing in burns, said Thursday at Sidon Government Hospital. "I cannot go back to Gaza now, but I can be here, in Lebanon.”

Since fighting reignited on March 2, Lebanon’s medical infrastructure has been under relentless pressure.

The Lebanese Health Ministry reports at least 54 health professionals killed, 152 attacks on ambulances and first responders, six hospitals shuttered, and 49 clinics closed due to strikes or threats.

Sidon Government Hospital, now home to Lebanon’s first specialized burn unit established by Ziara and the U.K.-based nonprofit Interburns, is operating beyond capacity.

"The health system is on its knees,” Ziara said, as backup generators roared to life during a blackout. "Front-line hospitals are short of staff, supplies, and space. We’re forced to make impossible decisions every hour.”

The human cost is profound. Kamal Fakih, 27, regained consciousness at Sidon Hospital a day after an Israeli airstrike leveled his home.

Burned and shredded by shrapnel, he hoped to thank the paramedic who rescued him, only to learn Muhammad Tafili had been killed in a subsequent strike in Kfar Tebnit.

That day, seven more medics died across four villages, including one responding to a strike that also claimed the lives of three journalists.

Israel later claimed some victims were Hezbollah operatives, a justification critics say mirrors Gaza, where hundreds of journalists and medical workers were killed.

"The new level of brazenness is frightening,” said Ramzi Kaiss, Lebanon researcher at Human Rights Watch. "Defense Minister Israel Katz has openly threatened to flatten southern Lebanese homes in the style of Rafah and Beit Hanoun. Impunity has emboldened the military.”

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Nabih Berri Hospital has evacuated dozens of patients to make room for the wounded.

Sidon’s burn unit cycles patients out to admit new arrivals.

Coordination between the Lebanese army, Health Ministry, and U.N. peacekeepers often delays critical care. Doctors warn that every delay could be fatal.

Civilians report indiscriminate strikes. Mohammad Qubaisi, 53, lost his 15-year-old son, Jad, when Israeli munitions hit his Beirut apartment on March 18.

Carrying his wife to safety, he ran through smoke and flames searching for his children. Hours later, he found Jad’s burned body at Sidon Hospital. "These are civilian buildings, not military targets,” Qubaisi said. "We were sleeping safely in our home, and look what happened to us.”

Across the south, entire communities live under constant fear.

Over 1 million people have fled north, leaving southern towns largely abandoned.

Schools and clinics are shuttered. Hospitals overflow with casualties. Medical staff face exhaustion and trauma as they attempt to treat the wounded with dwindling supplies.

Ziara’s burn unit admits dozens daily, often discharging patients prematurely to free beds for the next wave of casualties.

The wounded include children, elderly residents, and paramedics who risk their lives to rescue neighbors. "Every life we save is a victory,” Ziara said. "But we are barely holding on.”

The Israeli military maintains it targets Hezbollah operatives hiding in civilian areas and claims hospitals and ambulances used for military purposes are legitimate targets under international law, though it has offered no independent evidence.

Hezbollah denies using medical facilities for its activities, even as its presence in residential neighborhoods is well documented.

Medical workers describe the devastation in vivid detail. "We have no time to grieve,” said Lina Rahal, a nurse at Sidon Hospital. "Every strike brings more wounded. Children burn. The elderly are torn by shrapnel. We patch them up with what little we have.”

The conflict’s impact is compounded by Lebanon’s long-running economic collapse and electricity crisis.

Hospitals rely on backup generators, supplies are scarce, and even basic medical equipment is in short supply. "We are running on faith and adrenaline,” said Dr. Hadi Nasser, an emergency physician. "Every second counts, but every second is a struggle.”

At Sidon, Ziara recalled his own time trapped in Gaza’s Shifa Hospital before fleeing with his family to Egypt.

"I feel what these people feel,” he said. "The fear, the chaos, the helplessness, it’s all too familiar. Every life we save here is a small victory, but we’re running out of victories to claim.”

For residents like Qubaisi, the attacks are unrelenting. In central Beirut, his neighborhood of Zuqaq al-Blat has been hit multiple times without warning.

Carrying his wife from a burning building, he lost his son, and another family member remains missing. "We have nowhere to hide,” he said. "Palestinians in Gaza knew this fear. Now we know it too.”

The Lebanese public health system is under siege. Sidon Hospital and other frontline medical facilities face a constant influx of patients from bombed villages and towns.

Doctors must prioritize care under extreme pressure, often making life-or-death decisions with limited information.

Even basic procedures are delayed. Beds, blood, and burn supplies are all in short supply, and every new strike brings new casualties.

The psychological toll is staggering. Families lose children, spouses, and parents in moments.

Survivors are left with second- and third-degree burns, shrapnel injuries, and trauma that will last a lifetime.

Hospitals serve as both treatment centers and temporary morgues.

"Every strike leaves us scrambling,” Ziara said. "We treat, we triage, we evacuate. And then we start over.”

Human rights groups warn the situation is deteriorating rapidly.

The deliberate targeting of hospitals, ambulances, and medical staff violates international humanitarian law and mirrors patterns observed in Gaza.

Observers say Israel’s explicit reference to Gaza as a model for Lebanon signals that civilian areas will continue to bear the brunt of the military campaign.

As Lebanon reels from attacks, displacement, and a crumbling health system, the country faces a stark and immediate choice: save lives with dwindling resources or watch the crisis deepen. "Gaza’s shadow looms large over Lebanon,” Ziara said. "We are witnessing history repeat itself, and we are running out of time.”