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In 2010, Israel violently intercepted the Mavi Marmara, a Turkish ship chartered by a humanitarian NGO to bring aid to the Gaza Strip, which was under Israeli blockade at the time. This was the last straw, and the incident brought the simmering hostility between Erdogan's government and the Jewish state out into the open. (AFP)
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By Youssef Mouawad
Published Sep 5, 2026 - 13:25
The war has not yet ceased in our south, and already it threatens to break out among our neighbors. In other words, we live on borrowed time, lurching from one conflict to the next. And for good reason! The bombing of a Syrian base very nearly escalated into an all-out clash between Ankara and Tel Aviv. That was on August 18, and Benjamin Netanyahu didn't mince his words: his country would not tolerate a Turkish military foothold that could spread into southern Syria. The warning was all the more forceful given that eight strikes had targeted the Abu al-Dhuhur air base, just 70 kilometers from the Turkish border. It's worth recalling, too, that since the fall of Bashar al-Assad in December 2024, Erdogan has become the chief mentor of the new Syria under Ahmed al-Sharaa, helping rebuild its armed forces and turning it into a strategic partner. This is no longer Hafez al-Assad's Syria Was it this renewed tension between Ankara and Tel Aviv that prompted a meeting between Syria's top diplomat, Assaad Chaibani, and Mossad chief Roman Gofman, in Jordan on August 23? Yet this quiet parley did not spark outrage across the Arab world the way Anwar al-Sadat's surprise visit to Israel did in 1977. A taboo was officially broken—and indeed, who would have imagined such talks taking place under the Baathist regime? Israel might have been expected to welcome this, but contrary to expectations, it halted neither its airstrikes nor its territorial incursions, as seen on August 27 in Quneitra. The fact is, things have changed. Under Hafez al-Assad, Syria was a regional power that, while not exactly formidable, was feared by its immediate neighbors, Arab or otherwise. No one wanted to pick a fight with it, which allowed it to pursue, within certain limits, an assertive foreign policy that often bordered on provocation. As a result, thanks to the autonomy it exercised and the room to maneuver it granted itself, Syria had become, at least geographically, a buffer zone between an "Erdoganist" Turkey flaunting its unabashed brand of Islam on one side, and Israel, a state Jewish to its core, on the other. But now, in a country worn down by Baathist mismanagement and ravaged by years of civil war, Turkey has begun staking its claims—and will inevitably find itself face to face with an Israel that occupies part of Syrian territory. What can we expect? Given the outsized egos of both Netanyahu and Erdogan, and assuming both leaders remain in power, we should brace for an epic showdown across Syrian, Lebanese, Jordanian, or even other territories. This will be a fight of feints and dodges, of underhanded tactics as well as head-on attacks, close combat, and rising tensions right up to the breaking point. And this despite a September 2025 report from the Congressional Research Service concluding that direct confrontation between Turkey and Israel remains unlikely, precisely because both states are well aware of the cost such a war would entail. Still, in the realm of conflict studies, leaders and other elites don't always act rationally! All the more so since, in the eyes of Israeli observers, the slogan now popular in Anatolia—" Make Turkey great again "—hardly reassures the Zionist state. Washington will find it increasingly difficult to contain or keep apart two adversaries already gearing up for battle. Turkey, the new Iran? Yes, that's one hypothesis, but only in a face-off with Israel, since Syria has overnight become a zone where 'two security perimeters overlap' — the Turkish and the Israeli, the Muslim and the Jewish. And it can't be ruled out that Shiite militancy, that mobilizer of " proxies ," might end up allying itself, even if only temporarily, with a 'Muslim Brotherhood version' of political Islam championed by Ankara! So we would have, against all odds, a Hezbollah backed by its former enemy, Ahmad al-Sharaa, an Islamist who emerged from Jabhat al-Nusra and Hayat Tahrir al-Sham! Against a common adversary, a reversal of alliances is always legitimate and opportune. But this would only be a tactical alliance, dictated by the exigencies of the moment, one that couldn't presume anything about the future. With Arab nationalism now out of the picture, Turkey won't settle for economically capturing the Syrian market of 25 million consumers: it will want to wield political influence in Damascus, and to that end will deploy its military and security apparatus. Since the shaky power of the Syrian president can't fulfill certain sovereign functions or oversee the various branches of the state, it will inevitably turn to the expertise of its northern neighbor. Does this mean Turkey will get sucked into the spiral of 'announced belligerence'? Everything points that way, and we can already see the early signs of a spiral reminiscent of the US involvement in Vietnam under Lyndon Johnson. Indeed, if the Syrian state intends to rebuild itself, it will first need an army capable of quelling the centrifugal tendencies of the Alawites, the Druze, and other factions calling for the country's breakup. And it's up to Ankara to provide that and to bolster the central authority based in Damascus. But Israel, which has gotten into bad habits in Syria and intends to keep its freedom of aerial action there, cannot tolerate an army built along NATO lines that could serve as a proxy for a neo-Ottoman venture. And Lebanon, from primary stage to secondary stage? A new stage is now set for a new script that will define new rules of the game! What will become of Hezbollah, caught in a trap? Well, in that scenario, it could benefit, even if only partly, from Damascus's logistical support — support it has sorely lacked since the fall of Bashar al-Assad. And perhaps, through a shift in the tectonic plates, Lebanon would move from being the initial stage to being merely a secondary stage of a regional conflict. But frankly, that would do us a lot of good!
Today's Essential
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By LevantTime . - Published Sep 5, 2026 - 00:55
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The ICRC convoy carrying the released civilians left the area occupied by Israel in southern Lebanon and traveled to the point marking the start of the zone controlled by the Lebanese authorities. (AFP)
The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) announced on Friday that it had transferred four more people released by Israel to Lebanon, a day after the release of a first civilian. They are three Lebanese nationals and two Syrians, according to the ICRC. This is the first time such an operation has taken place since negotiations between Lebanon and Israel began in April under US auspices. During the last round of talks in August, Beirut had requested the release of a first group of its nationals captured by Israel in southern Lebanon, where Israel is at war with the pro-Iranian Hezbollah. Their relatives estimate their number at around thirty, including fighters from the Islamist movement. In a statement, Lebanese President Joseph Aoun thanked the United States and the ICRC, saying the release "confirmed the soundness of the position" taken by Lebanon, which is engaged in negotiations with Israel that Hezbollah rejects. On Thursday, the United States praised "the government of Israel and the government of Lebanon for demonstrating good faith through these initial steps," expressing hope that this would "serve as a foundation for broader discussions on other civilian matters." The two countries are set to hold another round of negotiations in September, though the date has not yet been set. According to the Israeli prime minister's office, Thursday's announcement "follows efforts by Israel and Lebanon to locate and repatriate the remains of Jewish community leaders who were kidnapped and killed in Lebanon" between 1984 and 1986. Israeli strikes intensify On the ground, Israeli strikes killed three people and wounded 23 others on Friday in southern and eastern Lebanon. Israel stepped up its strikes in the region on Friday, after announcing Thursday evening that it had taken control of the Ali Taher mountain ridge, which had served as a strategic position for the pro-Iranian Hezbollah and overlooks Nabatiyeh, among other areas. The army will now reinforce its positions there in order to "prevent the enemy from retaking the area," said Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz. A strike also hit the Tyre region, particularly the village of Rmadiyé, according to the National News Agency (NNA). For Trump, the war in Iran is "small potatoes" Regarding the war in Iran, US President Donald Trump sought on Friday to downplay its impact on the United States ahead of the crucial midterm elections. "A lot of people aren't calling it a war. I call it a military conflict, because it's small potatoes for us. It's not a big deal. We did Venezuela, and we did that," he told reporters in the Oval Office when asked about his vice president, JD Vance, who had said the day before that he didn't want to call the conflict a war. With fuel prices surging because of the war and threatening to cost Donald Trump's Republicans their majority in Congress in November's midterm elections, his administration is working to downplay the scale of the conflict. According to the president, the United States is carrying out "targeted strikes," insisting that it is "not currently engaged in fighting." He also claimed that the United States controlled the Strait of Hormuz and had wiped out Iran's armed forces. "What we've accomplished is remarkable. We took control of Venezuela, and we've essentially taken control of Iran," he said.
Homage
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By Michel Hajji Georgiou - Published Sep 4, 2026 - 23:28
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What remains of Hassan Rifai is the image of a respected, composed jurist, an authority on administrative and constitutional law, arguing in a calm, quavering voice as he pointed out the deviations and failings of politicians in relation to the parliamentary democratic system and the Constitution. And yet, the former MP and minister, who died on September 3, 2025, was also a man in revolt. A dissenter. Even at one hundred. Especially at one hundred! He had been one as a child, haranguing crowds in Baalbeck against the Mandate, and remained one throughout his career as a lawyer and parliamentarian. At one hundred, utterly disillusioned with the Republic and its buccaneers, his quiet anger had not subsided. “Lebanon is an impossible country!” he told the author of these lines in an interview conducted a few years before his death and never published. But make no mistake. Hassan Rifai was neither a nihilist nor someone who rejected everything outright. He had fought all his life for a certain idea of Lebanon. More specifically, for Greater Lebanon, united and plural. And he appreciated the Lebanese experience for what it was worth, including all that was positive in it. But human beings had disappointed him. And yet it was precisely the human being he was seeking. He never found that person on the Lebanese public stage. At least not in the service of the Republic. Rifai was a man of law, always elegant, irreproachable, everything one would expect of a man of his moral and intellectual stature. But he was also uncompromising. Merciless, even. No doubt his attachment to his country and its democratic system had led him to acknowledge only one loyalty: a certain code of values and a certain idea of the Republic. That was why he was critical of every mistake and every abuse, beginning with those committed by his own political friends. He spared no one. Neither communities nor clans, neither religious leaders, he was secular himself, and certainly not political officials. No one escaped his scrutiny, and Rifai took a certain pleasure in dismantling the myths and received ideas that portrayed this or that president of the Republic or prime minister as an exceptional leader. His yardstick was objective: the consistency of actions with democratic principles. As a result, no one truly found favor in his eyes. The conclusion was devastating: none of the country’s leaders, throughout its history, had genuinely respected Lebanese parliamentary democracy. None. That did not mean he placed everyone on the same footing. He had enough critical distance to recognize the qualities and shortcomings of each. He liked to quote Léon Duguit: “Constitutional law has no safeguard other than the good faith of those who apply it.” He had almost made it his republican credo. And his verdict was merciless: that good faith, quite simply, he had not found. Too many politicians, and not enough statesmen. And above all, a great deal of lying and hypocrisy. One day, a senior political figure advised him: “Do not build roads for people. Otherwise they will stop coming to you.” Despite the respect he had for this political ally, the remark left him bewildered and shocked. It contained an entire conception of power: never permanently solve the problem of those one claims to represent, because once their need disappears, so does the very reason for their dependence. The project of the state was thus postponed indefinitely. Or, at the very least, whenever good people did exist, the system prevented them from reaching positions of responsibility. Rifai was a rebel, yes, but one armed with the rigor and precision of a master craftsman of administrative and constitutional law. That was undoubtedly what set him apart within Lebanon’s political milieu. He was rebellious enough, in any event, to pay a price for it. In August 1982, he survived an assassination attempt after opposing the Israeli diktat. At Taif in 1989, he was almost cast out for having immediately discerned the existing flaws and the traps added to the constitutional reforms. From 1992 onward, under the Syrian occupation, he endured political ostracism for opposing the security apparatus underpinning Syrian tutelage and Rafic Hariri’s policies. But he was fair. He could oppose political confessionalism while acknowledging that abolishing it at the present stage would be disastrous for Lebanon, and that a system of majority rule based purely on numbers would once and for all toll the death knell of the Lebanese formula and of the Christian presence in Lebanon. He could agree that Christians had been wronged by the constitutional reforms of Taif, Sunnis too, he maintained, while at the same time recalling the excesses committed in the exercise of power by presidents of the Republic between 1943 and 1990, and warning against a nostalgic return to those practices under the refrain of “Christian rights.” A drift toward a presidential or semi-presidential system would, in his view, endanger Christians. The importance of the parliamentary system inherited from the French Third Republic lay precisely in the fact that the president of the Republic was not politically accountable to the Chamber of Deputies. That placed him, according to Rifai, in a privileged position. Above the fray, he could steer the ship of the Republic safely into port without becoming bogged down in struggles for power. That moral responsibility to preserve the Constitution and the Republic was, in his eyes, far more important than any political responsibility. But the principal parties concerned still had to be persuaded of that. Rifai could recognize the importance of administrative decentralization while refusing to allow that demand to become an ideological slogan concealing separatist ambitions. In this regard, he recalled that Beirut and Mount Lebanon had been favored in the construction of Greater Lebanon, while the peripheral regions, particularly his own, Baalbeck, had been neglected. That had contributed to weakening Lebanese national sentiment, which ultimately depended on well-being grounded in respect for human dignity. Commitment to citizenship presupposed that everyone be treated equally in terms of development. Without equality among citizens, sovereignty could only falter. That, indeed, was the meaning of his first speech in Parliament in 1968. The events that followed gave that warning a singular gravity. Economic, social and territorial imbalances contributed to fueling the demands of the left and of part of the Muslim street in a country already strained by sectarian tensions, foreign interference and the growing power of armed organizations. They thus contributed to the gradual weakening of the state, before the war, successive occupations and the emergence of para-state structures. Ultimately, Hassan Rifai embodies something of that Lebanese model of the cosmopolitan, complex personality who stands outside communal and partisan trenches, enjoys almost unanimous respect, especially beyond political circles, yet is consulted within those same circles only when needed and for self-interested reasons. Lebanon does not like minds that are too independent and too unruly, even if its system still contains cracks through which such people can exist and make themselves heard. They are tolerated, but they must remain on the margins. The survival of the state of zaamat and the state of jamaat depends on it: a system that invariably prefers turning to foreign patrons rather than to people capable of generating, proposing and implementing solutions from within. Lebanon’s political system and its protagonists detest the notion of responsibility, which they find profoundly anxiety-inducing, and prefer dependence or, worse still, servility. Yet Rifai repeatedly said, once again quoting Léon Duguit: “Where responsibility lies, there lies power.” Should it then come as any surprise that in Lebanon, where responsibility is nowhere to be found, power is nowhere to be found either? Or, more precisely, that it is always elsewhere?
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The hill of Ali el-Taher and the Houthis at the center of the news

While Iranian-American talks remain stalled amid fierce rhetoric on both sides, it is the front in southern Lebanon between Israel and Hezbollah that has seen a gradual escalation this week, reaching a peak on Saturday — pointing to potentially unpredictable developments in the days ahead. The week of August 10–16, 2026 was marked in South Lebanon by an escalation that built steadily until the bloody Saturday of August 15. There is a sense of déjà vu — the center of gravity of a regional conflict shifting once again toward a small country, at a time when, on the main front with Iran, the belligerents' war of words has replaced actual hostilities… at least for now. Southern Lebanon has thus been the scene of a steadily intensifying Israeli escalation as the days passed. It also marks the first time since last June's fragile ceasefire that the Israelis have reported Hezbollah operations against their troops — although the Shiite militia has not claimed responsibility for these, continuing to maintain the appearance of respecting the truce. The targeting of Ali el-Taher continued throughout the week in a very sustained manner by the Israelis, culminating in the particularly bloody events of Saturday. That day, the Israeli military claimed to have struck two senior Hezbollah commanders: Ali Fakhreddine in Deir Zahrani, and Ali Hajj Hassan (of the elite Radwan force), killed along with his entire family at a Hezbollah military headquarters in Ansar (on the outskirts of Sidon — a position deep in the south). The strikes that day killed 11 people, including women and children, and wounded around twenty others. Regarding these strikes, the Israeli military cited an operation against its soldiers in the yellow zone (the area it occupies in the south), in the Ali el-Taher region. Hezbollah did not confirm anything but issued a statement on Saturday containing a threat of an "appropriate response" should the violations continue. The sense that the now-infamous hill of Ali el-Taher represents a key flashpoint in the conflict was reinforced on Saturday by remarks from Iranian parliament speaker Mohammad Ghalibaf, the lead negotiator, who claimed to be "in contact with fighters on the front lines at Ali el-Taher." Not only does this statement signal Iran's desire to maintain its grip on Lebanon through Hezbollah, but it raises the question of whether he is simply referring to Lebanese fighters or whether they are being backed by senior Revolutionary Guard officers — as public rumors have suggested since the conflict began. How far is Iran willing to go to support Hezbollah in such an unequal confrontation with Israel? Verbal escalation between Hezbollah and the United States Another notable development of the week was the war of words between various senior American officials and Hezbollah. This verbal escalation peaked with a statement by U.S. Ambassador Michel Issa on Friday, who stressed, in response to a journalist's question, that Israeli military action would not stop until Hezbollah had surrendered its weapons. On Sunday, a U.S. State Department source declared that Hezbollah "bears sole responsibility" for the situation the country finds itself in. Michel Issa's remarks drew an almost immediate response from the party's secretary-general, Naïm Qassem, who delivered a scathing speech on Friday targeting Lebanese authorities, accusing them of allowing themselves to be "humiliated" and of bowing to American and Israeli dictates. He called on them to "stop piling up failures," arguing that every round of negotiations with Israel has yielded nothing for Lebanon. He shifted the focus back to Iran's role, contending that only the Islamabad agreement — now effectively on life support — has ever brought a ceasefire to the country. A statement issued by Hezbollah on Saturday, following two deadly Israeli strikes, echoed that speech, declaring that placing any bet on the Americans and their promises amounts to "certain failure." The past week was also marked by a dispute between Israel and the United States over Lebanon. It came to a head primarily through Washington's outraged reaction to comments made by Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz, who stated that his army "would not withdraw" from southern Lebanon. Washington warned that such remarks were endangering talks between Lebanon and Israel. It is worth noting in this context that U.S. President Donald Trump dispatched his envoy — and son-in-law — Jared Kushner to the region. He is expected to travel to Israel in the coming days for talks centered on Gaza, though the situation in Lebanon is also likely to be on the agenda. The past week was further marked by a tour of Lebanese officials conducted by Lieutenant General Joseph Clearfield, who chairs the ceasefire monitoring committee (established in November 2024) under U.S. leadership. He was accompanied by Ambassador Issa. The American officer discussed the trilateral negotiations with his counterparts, drawing on a visit he had made to Israel the previous week. On the other front: the Strait of Hormuz On the front of the U.S.-Iran conflict, there were no major developments this week — neither in terms of armed confrontation nor direct negotiations (which remain nonexistent) — with just days to go before the sixty-day deadline set in the framework agreement signed between the two sides in Islamabad in June expires. Next week therefore appears wide open to any and all possibilities. All eyes are on the Strait of Hormuz. The week ended with promises of an Iranian-Omani agreement on the waterway's management — a stark contrast to the bellicose statements coming from both sides. The U.S. president repeatedly insisted that the area is entirely under American control and that the blockade on Iranian ports is airtight. For their part, the Iranians continued to make provocative statements toward the Americans. The latest came on Sunday from Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, who declared that his country has no intention of resuming negotiations with the United States at this time. The Iranians are thus continuing to act as if they have won, while quietly pressing ahead with their brutal domestic crackdown — executing opponents in ever-growing numbers, including young people and even teenagers. It is also worth noting that Iran's supreme leader Mojtaba Khamenei — still conspicuously absent from public view — made six major appointments within Iran's military and security apparatus on Tuesday. Observers interpreted these changes as a further tightening of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps' grip on key defense positions, deepening the impression of a hardening posture amid ongoing regional tensions. Finally, it should be noted that the Yemeni Houthi front remained very active this week. In addition to several Houthi attacks in the Red Sea (on top of Iranian attacks on vessels at the Strait of Hormuz), major strikes took place against a refinery belonging to Saudi oil giant Aramco, as well as against a port controlled by official Yemeni forces backed by Saudi Arabia.

Bloody Escalation in South Lebanon
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LevantTime .
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The Feast of the Assumption, on Saturday, August 15, was marked by a serious escalation in southern Lebanon, as Israeli warplanes carried out deadly raids on the towns of El-Ansar and Deir Zahrani in the Nabatiyeh district, killing a total of 11 people — including a senior Hezbollah military commander — and wounding around twenty others. The Jewish state announced late in the day that these strikes were carried out in retaliation for an attack launched late Friday by the pro-Iranian militia against an Israeli unit in the Ali el-Taher area, in the Nabatiyeh region. Three Israeli soldiers were wounded, two of them seriously. Following that operation, the Israeli air force launched intensive strikes at dawn on Saturday against the heights of Ali el-Taher, but the deadliest airstrike took place in El-Ansar, where seven people were killed. In an official statement, the IDF announced late in the day that a "commander" of Hezbollah's elite Radwan unit, Ali Samir Hajj Hassan, had been killed in El-Ansar. The statement specified that the building targeted served as a command center for the pro-Iranian militia, from which the order had been given to launch the attack against soldiers on a mission on the hill of Ali el-Taher. The statement indicated that several aides of the Hezbollah commander were killed, along with family members who were present in the command center. "The killed commander had placed his family members by his side as human shields," the IDF stated. Later on Saturday, a strike was carried out against Deir Zahrani, killing four people and wounding several others. These airstrikes were strongly condemned by President Joseph Aoun and Prime Minister Nawaf Salam. On Saturday evening, Israeli Channel 12 reported that the IDF had notified residents of northern Israel of its intention to "carry out attacks in southern Lebanon overnight Saturday, and that explosions would therefore be heard" in the area. The Hormuz agreement taking shape once again On the regional front, Iran's Foreign Ministry stressed on Saturday evening that an agreement with the Sultanate of Oman was expected to be announced shortly, aimed at delineating the maritime corridors that ships would be permitted to use along the Strait of Hormuz. It is worth noting that Iran's Foreign Ministry had stated a few days ago that an agreement with the Sultanate of Oman would not necessarily guarantee free and safe passage through the Strait of Hormuz. An official source in Tehran reiterated on Saturday evening that "the United States would need to meet certain conditions in order to ensure security in the strait"! It should also be noted that two vessels — one of them belonging to a UAE-based company — were targeted in Iranian attacks in that area over the past twenty-four hours. Alongside this persistent tension in a region subject to attacks by the Revolutionary Guards, military operations and bombardments continued on Saturday in Yemen between the pro-Iranian Houthi militia and Yemeni government forces, particularly in the Ma'rib region. Three Iranian aviators killed in Qatar in March Finally, Iran announced on Saturday that three Iranian pilots have been held in Qatar since last March. An Iranian source claimed they "were taken prisoner when their aircraft were shot down in Qatari airspace as they attempted to carry out strikes against American bases." Late on Saturday evening, the Qatari Ministry of Foreign Affairs denied holding any Iranian aviators, while noting that rescue units were searching for the remains of the airmen. On this matter, the Qatari source indicated that contacts had been made with the Iranian authorities in order to hand over the remains of one of the aviators, "but Iran did not follow up on our efforts," the Qatari Foreign Ministry stressed.

The Prophet and the Philosopher (5/10)
By
Wissam Saadé
Published

In April 2026, Wissam Saadé delivered four lectures at the University of Bologna. The first, at the invitation of Professor Giovanni Giorgini, entitled “The Prophet and the Philosopher: The Hierarchy of Knowledge between Avicenna’s Falsafa and al-Kirmānī’s Ismaili Neoplatonism,” is presented here in a revised and expanded version, published as a series of ten articles. The series explores the intellectual landscape of Islamic Neoplatonism through a comparative reading of Avicenna and al-Kirmānī. While both thinkers share a broadly Neoplatonic horizon, shaped by a metaphysics of emanation, a hierarchy of being, and a synthesis of Aristotelian and Platonic thought, they develop distinct philosophical projects: Avicenna within the tradition of Peripatetic falsafa , and al-Kirmānī within the framework of Ismaili theology. Despite these different intellectual contexts, their systems remain engaged in a continuous dialogue over the nature of knowledge, the relationship between reason and revelation, and the ascent of the soul. Their respective projects also embody contrasting conceptions of the political, illuminating different ways of understanding the place of philosophy in relation to authority, law, and the organization of the community. This article constitutes the fifth installment of this ten-part series. V - Between Ineffability and Necessity: The Cairene Crisis and the Ontological Turn The arrival of Ḥamīd al-Dīn al-Kirmānī in Cairo must be understood against the background of one of the most intense theological and political crises in the history of the Fatimid Ismaili da ʿ wa : the final years of the reign of al-Ḥākim bi-Amr Allāh (r. 996–1021). This crisis culminated in the “Druze dissidence.” The primary cause was the declaration by certain agitators that the Caliph-Imam al-Ḥākim was not merely the “Proof of God” ( Ḥujjat Allāh ) or a “Pillar of the Pleroma,” but the absolute manifestation of the Godhead itself. Historically, al-Ḥākim’s own attitude toward these figures remained fluctuating, a mercurial stance that only further fueled the antinomian impulse of the movement. These dissidents argued that, because the “End of Times” and the “Final Truth” had been realized in the person of al-Ḥākim, the external religious law ( ẓāhir ), including prayer, fasting, and pilgrimage, had become obsolete. In their view, the mediation of the Law was no longer necessary in the face of radical, unmediated presence. From the perspective of the official Fatimid da ʿ wa , this development represented a dangerous deviation. Traditional Ismaili doctrine maintained a strict metaphysical distinction: God is absolutely transcendent and beyond all predication, while the Imam is a uniquely chosen human being who serves as the authoritative interpreter ( mu ʾ awwil ) of divine revelation. Any collapse of this distinction into notions of incarnation ( ḥulūl ) or divine manifestation threatened the very structure of Ismaili monotheism. It is within this context of doctrinal rupture that al-Kirmānī was summoned to Cairo by the central institution of the Fatimid da ʿ wa . As one of the most intellectually sophisticated Ismaili philosophers of his time, he was uniquely equipped to respond to this crisis. Against the emerging tendencies toward the deification of al-Ḥākim, al-Kirmānī reasserts a strictly hierarchical cosmology. In his system, God remains absolutely transcendent; from Him proceeds the First Intellect through divine origination ( ibdā ʿ), followed by a structured hierarchy of intellects and cosmic principles. Within this architecture, no human figure, including the Imam, can occupy the level of divinity or incarnation. The Imam remains an essential epistemic and hermeneutical authority, but strictly within the created order. Al-Kirmānī’s thought is inseparable from a triple task and a three-dimensional tension. First, he sought to establish Fatimid Ismailism as an institutionalized Islam rooted in a scholarly jurisprudential tradition, a project centrally shaped by the work of al-Qāḍī al-Nuʿmān. Second, he aimed to build Ismailism simultaneously as a proselytizing movement ( da ʿ wa ), both within and beyond the borders of the empire, and as an imperial religion. Third, the objective was to frame Ismailism as a philosophical and, by the standards of the time, scientific religion, deeply rooted in the cosmology and astronomy of the era. All of this raises a central question: how can an esoteric doctrine govern an exoteric state, and conversely, how can a visible empire be grounded in an invisible metaphysics? For a thinker like al-Kirmānī, the answer lies in the theory of correspondence between the celestial and terrestrial orders: everything in the higher world has its analogue in the lower. The structure of the Imamate thus mirrors the cosmic hierarchy. The Quietude of the Intellect In rectifying the previous Neoplatonic model inherited from al-Sijistānī, al-Kirmānī expunged even the slightest imperfections from the highest realm. By doing so, he sought to bring earthly life into alignment with a form of concordia , a harmony based on the “Quietude of the Intellect.” This state is achieved once the intellect realizes that the First Intellect is the first originated and the first existent; that its origination stems from a Source that is eternally and infinitely veiled; that any inquiry into what lies “beyond” it is strictly precluded; that what lies “below” it is both intellect (ʿ āqil ) and intelligible ( ma ʿ qūl ); that the Imamate is the earthly image of this system of Intellects; and that the Imamate serves as the link to the light of these Intellects, rather than as a manifestation of the Veiled One, who never manifests. Al-Kirmānī coupled this with an attempt to preclude any form of intellectual independence in which the intellect might assert its own self-sufficiency rather than humble itself to receive the teachings of the Imam, who alone possesses the key to esoteric interpretation ( ta ʾ wīl ). He further emphasized a rigorous balance between the esoteric ( bāṭin ) and the exoteric ( ẓāhir ), between philosophical gnosis (ʿ irfān ) and jurisprudence ( fiqh ), and between the two forms of worship: the intellectual and the practical. From Cairo to Alamut The period of al-Ḥākim bi-Amr Allāh (386–411 AH / 996–1021 CE) represents the “critical” or “dramatic” moment in Ismaili history. It exposed the latent fissures between the multiple dimensions of the Ismaili project. When al-Ḥākim bi-Amr Allāh mysteriously disappeared one night in 411 AH, the “bridge” al-Kirmānī was attempting to reinforce collapsed. A segment of the da ʿ wa , especially in the Levant, refused to believe that al-Ḥākim was dead. They viewed his disappearance as “Occultation” ( ghayba ). This led to the emergence of the Druze faith, which broke entirely with the Fatimid imperial framework. This demonstrated that the “imperial” dimension could no longer contain the “revolutionary” calling. The caliphs who followed al-Ḥākim, al-Ẓāhir and then al-Mustanṣir, were forced to adopt a highly conservative line in order to preserve the throne. They marginalized the “dangerous” cosmic and philosophical dimensions that had nearly destroyed the state, focusing instead on traditional imperial governance. Missionaries in Persia and Khorasan, such as Nāṣir-i Khusraw (1004–c. 1088 CE) somewhat later, found themselves confronting a vast gap. While they preached about a Cosmic Imam who would transform history, they saw a court in Cairo sinking into the petty struggles of viziers and palace guards. This tension eventually led to the Great Schism: the Nizārī-Mustaʿlī conflict. The final rupture occurred with the rise of Ḥasan-i Ṣabbāḥ and the establishment of the state at Alamut. Recognizing that the Fatimid center in Cairo had traded its revolutionary soul for the trappings of a stagnant empire, the Eastern Ismailis, the Nizārīs, severed ties with the Cairene caliphate. In the rugged mountains of Persia, the “revolutionary calling” was finally decoupled from the “imperial dimension.” Alamut transformed the Ismaili project into a decentralized, militant network of fortresses, replacing the formal jurisprudence of Cairo with the doctrine of ta ʿ līm , the authoritative instruction of the Imam. This shift represented the ultimate triumph of the “Hādī” spirit, militant, secretive, and philosophically intense, over the compromised political structures that al-Kirmānī had once hoped to save. From Ineffability to Necessity The intellectual trajectory of the Ismaili da ʿ wa presents a striking paradox: the transition from Cairo to Alamut was marked by a shift from radical apophaticism toward an ontological, Avicennian framework. Early Fatimid thinkers such as al-Sijistānī and al-Kirmānī upheld a strict apophatic theology. They maintained that the Originator ( al-Mubdi ʿ) was so transcendently “Other” that He stood beyond existence and non-existence. This “double negation” was designed to protect tawḥīd from any human or material association, placing the Divine beyond the reach of language and logic. In contrast, the Alamut period, catalyzed by the declaration of the Qiyāma , a transformative event proclaimed at Alamut in 1164 CE that prioritized the spiritual essence of the ḥaqīqa over the formal requirements of the sharī ʿ a , and later refined by Naṣīr al-Dīn al-Ṭūsī (1201–1274 CE), incorporated the language of the wājib al-wujūd , the Necessary Existent. As Avicennian metaphysics became the standard for high philosophy in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, Alamut’s thinkers adopted these categories to ensure intellectual rigor. While al-Kirmānī’s Neoplatonism was a dense, elitist system, the besieged state of Alamut required a more direct metaphysical grounding. By embracing the “Necessary Existent,” Alamut theology tethered the cosmic order more firmly to the authoritative instruction ( ta ʿ līm ) of the Imam, providing a stable ontological foundation for a community in a state of permanent revolution. When the Mongols under Hülegü Khan destroyed Alamut in 1256, al-Ṭūsī surrendered alongside the last Imam, Rukn al-Dīn Khurshāh. He soon became a chief adviser to Hülegü and helped establish the Maragheh Observatory. From this point onward, al-Ṭūsī’s public works shifted toward Twelver Shiʿism. He wrote the Tajrīd al-I ʿ tiqād ( The Catharsis of Faith ), which became a foundational text of Twelver theology. Paradoxically, the systematization of the intelligible world undertaken by al-Kirmānī in his masterwork, Rāḥat al- ʿ Aql , likely exerted a more profound influence on the Druze Unitarians than on any other group. Although his mission to Cairo was initially intended to refute the founding fathers of this community, his cosmological rigor became the very intellectual foundation upon which they constructed their own doctrinal edifice.

The War of the Two Narratives, or “The Sunni Hour Has Struck”

"Enough is enough!" cried three countries that had come together in Mecca on August 7th. Turkey, Pakistan, and Saudi Arabia — three complementary powers — have just formed a Sunni NATO, one that other states seeking military protection or a diplomatic umbrella would inevitably join. The announcement of this pact naturally came like a thunderclap. And simply following the Saudi press over recent days, one can detect a clear shift in tone toward the mullahs in Tehran. Gone are the days when Riyadh, the Saudi capital, swallowed its pride, stoically absorbed Iranian provocations, and opted for peaceful resolution of conflicts with its aggressors. The ultimate argument! Tehran could not have continued down this malicious and arrogant path toward its neighbors — the Arab states — were it not for the Palestinian cause it championed so fervently, a sacred cause that long granted it a degree of immunity. For it was indeed Iran and its proxy Hezbollah that tirelessly kept up the struggle against Israel and its expansionist agenda. Who can deny this, when the Arab Sunni states did nothing but rack up defeats on the ground — in 1948, 1956, 1967, and so on? Indeed, those same states would have been more than happy to normalize relations with Tel Aviv, had the Israeli capital been willing to make a few concessions — enough, at least, to give them a face-saving way out. Standing in sharp contrast is the Shiite world, in Iran as in the Bilad ash-Sham . Was not Hassan Nasrallah hailed in 2006 as a new Saladin by an "Arab street" stretching from Mesopotamia to the Atlantic Ocean? Had he not supposedly forced the Israeli army to retreat? It was he, and no one else, who had held Islam's head high. And in doing so, by shedding the blood of his fighters, he was writing a counter-narrative that rehabilitated his Shiite community. The Crusades narrative and the discourse of "muqawama" Medieval history is never far from the memory of our peoples. It is worth recalling that the Arab mainstream tradition, drawing on the chroniclers Ibn al-Athir, Ibn al-Qalanisi, and Ibn al-ʿArabi, holds the Shiite Fatimids responsible for the fall of the Holy Land and Jerusalem into the hands of the Crusaders at the end of the 11th century (1). This deeply rooted tradition implicitly accuses the Fatimids of having sought to exploit the Frankish invasion to weaken the Seljuk Turks (2). Along the same lines, these three historians were quick to point out that it was the Sunni response — led by figures such as Zengi, Nur al-Din, Saladin, and ultimately the Mamluks — that would bring down the last Frankish strongholds in the 13th century and return them to Islam. It was this narrative that would come to dominate, carried for four centuries by Ottoman ideology and then by Arab nationalism as a unifying story — until the day Khomeinism burst onto the Middle Eastern stage and proclaimed that Israel must be wiped from the face of the earth. The wilayat al-faqih would wage a relentless struggle against Israel, punctuated by certain successes, and never stop trumpeting them. Two rival narratives, then — the latter seeking to refute the former. Against a less-than-glorious past, "political Fatimism" (al-Fatimiya al-siyassiya) could now hold up a radiant present woven from heroism and sacrifice. And Hezbollah, backed by the Iranian authorities, would make it their leitmotif across the airwaves. A pact in Mecca! Yes — but what can be made of it? The Arab street should always be taken seriously, especially since it is prone to self-delusion. Right now, it must be feeling encouraged by a Sunni resurgence, given that since Abdel Nasser, Yasser Arafat, and Saddam Hussein, it has lacked a leader capable of galvanizing the masses. The image of a hero has been sorely missing, while the Shia branch could point to a long list of martyrs for the cause, from Qassem Soleimani to Hassan Nasrallah. And so, this Sunni street—known for its passion—has experienced a loss of momentum over the decades. Then came August 7th, when a new balance of power began to take shape in Mecca, now that Syria has broken free from the axis of resistance and Egypt has remained on the sidelines, perhaps waiting to see how things unfold. But will a pact signed in Mecca, the holiest city in Islam, prove to be nothing more than a dead letter, like so many short-lived alliances that have dotted our contemporary history? Before answering that question, one observer pointed out that this is not about the reconstitution of a "religious Sunni front, but rather the reassertion of Sunni national powers seeking to reclaim the strategic initiative against Iran"—as well as against Israel. Granted, if everything goes as planned, we will witness an exercise in "re-confessionalization," though one that will remain purely geopolitical in nature. For even if Sunnism provides the historical and sociological depth underpinning this alliance of sovereign states, the well-understood interests of those states will always take precedence over religious ideology and the solidarity it demands. So what should we expect? Most likely, yet another retelling of the same age-old discord between the champions of Sunni orthodoxy and those of Shia dissent! (3) 1- An accusation that, on reflection, should be tempered. 2- On the eve of the Crusaders' arrival, a fierce struggle for dominance over the Arab-Islamic world was already unfolding between the Sunni Seljuks and the Shia Fatimids. 3- Hichem Djaït, La grande discorde, Religion et politique dans l'Islam des origines, Gallimard, 1989.

From Hormuz to Lebanon, the Uncertainties Persist

The 60-day truce between the United States and Iran will expire in three days, with no official indication from either side about their intentions. Communication channels between Tehran and Washington remain severed, but mediators — notably Pakistan — appear to be working actively to secure an extension of the ceasefire established under the US-Iranian memorandum of understanding signed in mid-June. Both belligerents appear willing to extend the truce, though any such extension would not, at this stage, come with specific conditions attached, according to several corroborating media sources. The regional status quo is therefore set to continue, with no way of determining — given the hardening rhetoric on both sides — what might bring them back to the negotiating table. Washington believes the naval blockade it has imposed on the Islamic Republic is beginning to take effect, while Tehran, for its part, believes that by continuing to disrupt international maritime traffic through the Strait of Hormuz, it can pressure the United States into softening the conditions it is imposing on the Islamic Republic, which is nonetheless facing the threat of new economic sanctions. These are expected to be announced next week, according to US Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, and would "be added on top of the existing naval blockade." "It will be a combination of economic isolation the likes of which the world has never seen, and the continuation of the blockade in the Strait of Hormuz, which will prevent anything from entering or leaving Iranian ports," he announced in a television interview, without providing further details on the measures being considered. This pressure is driven in part by the continued attacks by the Revolutionary Guards on vessels transiting the US-secured corridor at Hormuz, as well as ongoing strikes by pro-Iranian Houthi forces against Saudi infrastructure. At the same time, the United States maintains a strong military presence in the region. The aircraft carrier USS George Washington, normally based in the Pacific, is en route to the Middle East, where it is expected to relieve the USS Abraham Lincoln, which has been deployed since late January. The information was provided by the Associated Press, citing a US naval forces statement, which attributes the redeployment to reports of mental health and supply issues faced by personnel aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln. Uncertainty in Lebanon In Lebanon, the day was dominated by a statement from US Ambassador Michel Issa regarding the Israeli military presence in southern Lebanon. Following a meeting with Parliament Speaker Nabih Berry, the diplomat stated bluntly, in response to a question, that Israeli military operations — including the demolition of homes and civilian infrastructure — will not stop until Hezbollah surrenders its weapons. Engaged in direct negotiations with Israel, Lebanon's main condition for moving the talks forward is an end to the ongoing demolitions — condemned on Thursday by Prime Minister Nawaf Salam — and a gradual Israeli withdrawal from the south of the country. The date for the eighth round of talks has yet to be set. Michel Issa confirmed this, while assuring that the round will take place. September 2 had been floated as a possible date following the seventh round held in Rome, but it was still pending confirmation. Other factors are complicating the continuation of the dialogue, including the question of pilot zones, which remains under discussion, particularly with CENTCOM officials and the head of the ceasefire monitoring committee, General Joseph Clearfield, who has been holding official meetings in Lebanon since Wednesday. Accompanied by M. Issa, he had met with Nabih Berry and then with Nawaf Salam. According to the American ambassador, discussions are still ongoing to determine which state — among those shortlisted in Rome — will be designated to verify that the work carried out by the Lebanese army in the pilot zones complies with the provisions of last June's Lebanese-Israeli agreement. It would appear, however, that negotiations are progressing well to ensure that Lebanese-Israeli talks resume on schedule. While Michel Issa welcomed the progress made so far, Hezbollah continues to oppose it. Its leader, Naim Qassem, as disconnected from reality as ever, renewed his attacks against the authorities on Friday in a speech delivered to celebrate his movement's so-called "victory" (!) in the 2006 war, which proved devastating for Lebanon. In this same tired speech, he once again took it upon himself to threaten the state, claiming that his group's "anger" could "explode at any moment"…

Between the Mecca Alliance and the India–UAE–Israel Axis: Where Does Arab Lebanon Stand?

The Middle East is no longer merely undergoing a realignment of alliances. It appears to be entering a period in which the very concept of regional security is being redefined. After decades in which the Arab system functioned, however tenuously, within common frameworks such as the Arab League and the Gulf Cooperation Council, new security and economic arrangements are now beginning to emerge. They transcend the boundaries of the Arab world, bringing Arab and Muslim states together with regional and international powers on the basis of strategic interests rather than identity alone. It is in this context that what has become known as the “Mecca Agreement,” signed by Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and Pakistan on August 7, 2026, has emerged. It is based on the principle that an attack on any one of the three states is considered an attack on all of them. In its wording, this principle echoes the collective-defense principle enshrined in Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty, although it is still far too early to describe it as a fully fledged “Islamic NATO.” The significance of the agreement lies not only in the three countries themselves, but also in what each of them represents: Saudi Arabia, with its Arab, Islamic and economic weight; Türkiye, with its military power and NATO membership; and Pakistan, as a nuclear-armed state. It is this nuclear dimension that gives the agreement, at least in theory, a strategic weight extending beyond conventional military cooperation. The relationship between this agreement and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, however, is neither one of integration nor dependence. Türkiye remains a NATO member, while the Alliance itself reaffirmed at its Ankara summit last July its commitment to collective defense under Article 5. At the same time, NATO is developing increasingly close security cooperation with several Gulf states, including the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Bahrain and Kuwait. This is where the picture becomes more complex. On the other side, a different network of relationships is taking shape, bringing together the UAE, India and Israel, with links extending to Greece and Cyprus. Precision is necessary here: there is, as yet, no formal four-way military alliance bringing together the UAE, India, Israel and Greece in the traditional sense. What exists is an expanding network of strategic, economic and security partnerships, alongside publicly articulated Israeli proposals for building an axis stretching from India through the UAE to Greece and Cyprus. The importance of this axis lies in the fact that it is based neither on religion nor identity, but on interests: trade, technology, security, energy, maritime routes, and connectivity between India, the Middle East and Europe. This is also the context in which the competition surrounding the India–Middle East–Europe Economic Corridor, or IMEC, should be understood. The project was intended to link India to the Gulf, then to Israel and Europe. Regional wars and divisions, however, have made its future more complicated, while Saudi Arabia has begun exploring routes that could bypass Israel. Are We Facing an Arab Divide? Yes, but not in the traditional sense of the word. It would be more accurate to say that we are witnessing a transition from a single Arab system, even if at times only nominally so, toward a set of competing and overlapping axes. Saudi Arabia no longer wants to rely on a single security umbrella. For years, the UAE has chosen to build broad strategic relationships with the United States, India and Israel. Türkiye operates both within and beyond NATO, while seeking to carve out an independent regional role for itself. Pakistan adds its military and nuclear weight to the equation. India, for its part, acts according to the logic of a major power seeking its place in the emerging global order. This means that Arab states no longer necessarily act as a single bloc. The greater danger, however, would be for this plurality of alliances to turn into an inter-Arab confrontation between rival blocs, with Arab states becoming components of competing axes rather than actors pursuing an independent regional project of their own. And this is where the Lebanese question becomes more urgent. Where Is Lebanon? Lebanon is not Saudi Arabia, nor the UAE, nor Türkiye, nor India. It is a small state in an exceptionally sensitive geographical position, with a multi-sectarian society and an economy that needs both the Arab world and the West. For that reason, the question “Which alliance should Lebanon join?” may be the wrong one. The real question is this: how can Lebanon preserve its identity and national interests in a world where alliances are becoming overlapping networks? The Lebanese Constitution provides an initial answer. Its preamble clearly states that Lebanon is “Arab in identity and belonging,” that it is a founding and active member of the League of Arab States and is committed to its covenants. It also affirms Lebanon’s place in both the Arab and international spheres. This is not a poetic phrase inserted into the preamble of the Constitution. It is part of the identity of the state itself. But Lebanon’s “Arab identity” does not mean that it should become a party to any Arab axis regardless of its policies. Nor does belonging to the Arab world mean entering into confrontation with Türkiye, Iran, the West or any other state. Lebanon’s Arab identity should be a framework of belonging, not an instrument of military alignment. This is precisely why Lebanon today needs a different policy: neither a policy of axes nor one of isolation, but rather a policy of positive neutrality and balanced openness. Is It Too Early to Define a Position? Yes. It is still too early for Lebanon to announce that it is joining any new security axis. Indeed, doing so now would be a mistake. Even the “Mecca Agreement” itself is still in its formative stage. The details of its implementation, the mechanisms of collective defense and the extent to which it may evolve into an integrated military structure have yet to become clear. As for the opposing axis, it is not yet a formal military alliance, but rather a network of strategic partnerships and interests. If Lebanon were to adopt an early and definitive position, it could find itself, within months or years, in a configuration that no longer serves its interests. More importantly, Lebanon cannot afford to be drawn into a contest between competing axes. It is still struggling to address its domestic crises, restore Arab and international confidence, rebuild its economy, and strengthen the army and legitimate state institutions. What Should Lebanon Do? First, it must state clearly that security and military decision-making is the exclusive prerogative of the Lebanese state. Lebanon cannot be a sovereign state if its security choices are determined outside its constitutional institutions. Second, it must preserve its Arab relationships, particularly with Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states, without allowing this to become a commitment to a military axis. Third, it must maintain its relations with Türkiye, Europe, the United States, India and the Gulf states, while refusing to allow itself to be trapped into an “either-or” choice. Fourth, it must redefine “neutrality” in practical terms. Neutrality does not mean that Lebanon should have no position on Arab causes, the Palestinian question or international law. It means that Lebanon should be neither a battlefield nor a military platform serving any regional axis. Fifth, Lebanon must restore its place in the Arab world through the state, not through parties or armed organizations. This is where the central issue lies. If Lebanon truly wishes to uphold the principle that it is “Arab in identity and belonging,” it must rebuild its relationship with the Arab world through the Lebanese state, not through any sect or party. Lebanon Does Not Need a New Alliance Perhaps the greatest mistake Lebanon could make in the coming period would be to seek an “external umbrella” to protect it. What Lebanon needs first is an internal umbrella: the Constitution, the army, institutions, the judiciary and legitimacy. Only then can it build a broad network of external relationships. Regional alliances change. Saudi Arabia may draw closer to Türkiye and Pakistan today, while the UAE may deepen its partnership with India and Israel. Tomorrow, these alignments may shift again. But if Lebanon ties its future to a single axis, it will pay the price when those alliances change. A new guiding principle for Lebanese policy should therefore be the following: We are Arab, but we are not part of an Arab-versus-Arab conflict. We are open to East and West, but we are subordinate to no axis. We support regional security, but Lebanon’s security must be decided by Lebanon. The Arab world itself is changing. Perhaps the Arab League alone is no longer capable of producing a regional security architecture. The coming phase may be one of multiple alliances: Arab, Islamic, economic, maritime, technological and security-based. Yet amid these transformations, Lebanon can play a different role: it can be a bridge rather than a trench, a state of dialogue rather than confrontation, and an independent Arab state rather than the satellite of any axis. This is the true meaning of the phrase “Lebanon is Arab in identity and belonging.” It is not a call to choose one axis against another, but an invitation to restore Lebanon to its natural place: a sovereign Arab state, open to all, and unwilling to allow anyone else to decide on its behalf where it stands, when it goes to war, and why. At a time when alliances are being reshaped, perhaps the strongest position Lebanon can take is not to rush into choosing an alliance, but to choose the state first. Then, once the region’s new map becomes clearer, Lebanon can determine its partnerships on the basis of its national interest first, its Arab identity second, and its sovereignty above every other consideration.