The Incredible Pagers Affair: The Shadow Behind the Explosion
©This is Beirut

September 17, 2024, 3:30 p.m. Like so many other dates, this one once again thrust Lebanon into the unexpected. In an almost everyday silence, thousands of small devices, pagers, and walkie-talkies used by Hezbollah forces exploded almost simultaneously.

A deafening roar, flames erupting from offices, vehicles, and command centers. Dozens killed, hundreds injured, and an entire nation frozen in sheer disbelief. What at first seemed like an accident was quickly revealed to be the result of a chillingly precise operation, planned for more than a decade by Israeli intelligence services. One year later, This Is Beirut revisits the origins, execution, and consequences of this operation.

The idea was born more than ten years ago in the discreet offices of Israeli intelligence: strike Hezbollah not through conventional bombing, but by turning its own communication tools against it. Pagers and walkie-talkies, until then deemed reliable, foolproof, and hard to intercept, were to become silent weapons.

For years, engineers, explosives experts, and logistics specialists worked in the shadows, calibrating every detail, testing each device, and transforming these mundane objects into instruments of destruction.

The operation, internally codenamed “Grim Beeper,” was orchestrated with obsessive precision. Every detail was designed to avoid suspicion: AR-924 pagers were manufactured in Taiwan by Gold Apollo, then shipped through normal trade channels to third countries, including Hungary, making them almost untraceable. Shell companies scattered across Europe and Asia provided legal and logistical cover. At every stage, engineers inserted miniaturized explosive charges, specifically pentaerythritol tetranitrate (PETN), one of the most powerful known explosives, calibrated to detonate simultaneously at the exact scheduled hour. Walkie-talkies were treated the same way, creating a double chain of attack capable of paralyzing communications on multiple fronts. The slightest misstep would have compromised years of work.

Once in Lebanon, the devices blended seamlessly into Hezbollah’s daily operations. No alarms went off. They looked ordinary, worked flawlessly, and were used for months without anyone suspecting the dormant threat inside. Each pager and walkie-talkie was, in fact, a Trojan horse, ready to strike at the chosen time.

Logistics of the operation were astonishing in their complexity. The devices were stored in secret depots, transported via civilian and military supply chains, and monitored in real time by command teams in Tel Aviv. Each explosion was precisely timed. The plan was to hit multiple command centers, logistical depots, and communication lines simultaneously, creating total paralysis, yet without immediately pointing the finger at Israel.

On the day of the explosion, the execution was surgical, and the results exceeded even the planners’ expectations. At 3:30 p.m., a shockwave rippled across the country: buildings blown apart, vehicles reduced to ashes, and hundreds injured and killed. Confusion reigned. Local units, unable to communicate, were caught off guard. The Israeli plan, painstakingly prepared for a decade, materialized in just a few seconds.

Beyond the material damage, there was also a psychological and strategic dimension. Crippling the communications of a non-state actor was not only about inflicting losses; it was about sowing doubt, fear, and mistrust among cadres and fighters. Hezbollah, long accustomed to the solidity of its structures, was forced to rethink its entire logistics, communication systems, operational strategy, and even its personnel.

The attack also set a precedent: it showed that technology can become an invisible weapon and that everyday objects (here, pagers) can be transformed into war instruments. It underscored the sophistication of Israeli intelligence and the effectiveness of long-term planning, where patience, precision, and technological mastery converge to create maximum impact.

The strike was described as a “declaration of war” by Hezbollah’s former secretary general, Hassan Nasrallah, who was killed ten days later, on September 27, 2024, in an Israeli airstrike on Beirut’s southern suburbs.

As for the pager explosion, Israel initially denied involvement. But in November 2024, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu confirmed his country’s responsibility. The attack sent shockwaves through the region and further fueled tensions between Israel and Hezbollah.

The strike exposed Hezbollah’s vulnerabilities and was hailed as a major strategic blow. Yet, it also raised ethical and legal questions about the use of such methods in modern conflict. International law experts debated the operation’s legality, some branding it “state terrorism,” others framing it as a legitimate act of war.

The pagers affair remains a textbook case of modern asymmetric warfare. More than a simple act of sabotage, it is a lesson in strategy, planning, and military psychology. Non-state forces remain vulnerable to a state that combines strategic patience, advanced engineering, and global coordination.

 

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