‘There are no sanctuaries in Beirut: that’s the first thing you learn there. Churches, mosques, hospitals, schools, embassies—they are all fair game, all targets,’ pens a columnist in 1983, as quoted in a new book.
Targeted: Beirut by former Navy SEAL Jack Carr and Pulitzer Prize finalist James M. Scott begins in April 1983, when a truck loaded with approximately 2,000 pounds of explosives almost obliterated the U.S. embassy in Beirut, killing 63 people, mostly Lebanese and Americans. When the authors first set out to write this book, they could not have anticipated how tragically relevant its themes would be today, a sobering reflection of the region’s persistent volatility and the unyielding cycle of deadly violence.
The 1983 attack served as an opening ‘salvo’ that foreshadowed a fundamental shift in U.S. foreign policy.
At the time, Lebanon was engulfed in a prolonged civil war, further exacerbated by Israel’s 1982 invasion, which included the occupation of large swathes of the country including parts of the capital city; and Syria’s substantial military presence and political influence in the country. The authors vividly capture the harsh reality of life in Lebanon during the early 1980s, illustrating a distorted sense of normalcy with striking examples. One chilling account describes how ‘youth often played games in the street, pretending to plant car bombs’, underscoring the pervasive violence and the people’s adaptation to chaos.
In 1982, US President Roland Reagan, alongside France, Italy and the United Kingdom, deployed troops to Beirut as part of the Multinational Force in Lebanon (MNF) at the request of the Lebanese government. Their mission was to oversee the withdrawal of foreign forces, assist in training Lebanon’s armed forces, and help reestablish government control. Intended as a peacekeeping operation, the mission was fraught with challenges in a country deeply entrenched in civil war.
The early chapters build a palpable sense of impending dread, with each moment leading inexorably toward the known tragic events that follow. This sense of foreboding infuses the narrative with haunting gravity, making the reading intense.
Part II extends into October 1983, recounting the bombing of the US Marine barracks in Beirut on the 23rd at 6:21:26 am, which killed 241 American service members. It remains the deadliest single day for the US Marine Corps since the Battle of Iwo Jima. The entire assault lasted only ten seconds.
The authors’ stark portrayal of the attack’s brutality captures the intense violence and suffering inflicted on the victims: visceral scenes of entrails spilling out, men impaled or blown apart, and blood bubbling beneath rubble. The desperation of immediate survivors is tangible: a deceased man trapped under debris; his fingers worn raw from futilely trying to dig himself out through concrete. Survivors are shown with fatal injuries, skull fractures exposing their brains, signaling their impending death. The gruesome reality of the tragedy is impossible to ignore, as body bags were too few to hold the dead, and word to reach the families was painfully slow.
Beyond recounting the on-the-ground experiences, the book delves into high-level US government discussions, including those involving President Reagan, and reveals the internal conflicts among US leadership. It also notes that even four decades later, some critical meeting minutes and document details remain classified. There was to be no large-scale US military operation directly targeting those responsible for the bombing.
Part III carries through into April 1984, including the American withdrawal of Marines from Beirut, a pivotal moment in US foreign policy. While the ‘War on Terror’, as a structured and overarching policy, began after 11 September 2001, the 1983 bombing was a precursor to a broader global campaign against terrorism. It laid bare vulnerabilities to terrorist threats and influenced the evolution of US counterterrorism goals.
Lebanon’s geopolitical significance and its role in regional conflicts have long made it a key focus for US policy and efforts to stabilise the Middle East. As President Reagan argued then, peace in Lebanon ‘was a cornerstone of regional stability.’
Although the book does not directly address present-day parallels, the connections are evident, with policymakers trying to convince themselves that years of Middle Eastern diplomacy aren’t on the brink of collapse. The book might be more impactful if it explicitly linked these historical events to current geopolitical challenges, demonstrating how lessons from the Beirut bombing continue to shape counterterrorism strategies and US foreign policy.
Regardless, this is a meticulously researched and gripping narrative nonfiction work, which draws on archival material, in-depth interviews, and a vast array of sources, including daily schedules, press conference transcripts, and oral histories. Most compelling are the personal accounts from survivors, along with the families of those involved. Through these voices, the deeply personal impact of the events comes to life, offering an intimate portrayal of the human toll behind the history – a poignant reminder of lessons still to be learned.
[To read more on this and everything Middle East, the LSE Middle East Centre Library is now open for browsing and borrowing for LSE students and staff. For more information, please visit the MEC Library page.]
