Articles

At a pivotal moment in Lebanon’s trajectory, the decision to expel the Iranian ambassador cannot be treated as a routine diplomatic move. It is, quite simply, the first real test of whether the Lebanese state is capable of saying “no” to a regional project that has hollowed out its sovereignty for years. But as always, the problem is not only external—it lies within, and specifically with those who claim to be partners in governance. At the center of this stands Nabih Berri, our omnipresent Speaker of the House. Berri, who today attempts to present himself as a underwriter of stability, is in reality one of the chief architects of its collapse. The man who long branded himself as a “safety valve” has instead become a valve of obstruction, blocking any serious attempt to challenge Hezbollah’s dominance and Iran’s hold over Lebanon.

The past 24 hours in a Middle East at war offer a stark illustration of the uneasy coexistence between intensifying fighting and persistent reports of backchannel negotiations between the United States and Iran. Even as Israeli and US strikes on Iranian military and civilian infrastructure continue unabated – and as thousands of Marines are set to be deployed to the region in the coming days – reports in credible media outlets of a 15-point list of demands set by Washington as a basis for talks with Tehran have dominated headlines since Tuesday evening, with Pakistani, Turkish and other mediation efforts reportedly under way. Strikes on the Islamic Republic’s energy infrastructure, as threatened by US President Donald Trump on Sunday, appear for now to have been delayed.

Along the front line at Lebanon’s southern border with Israel, several Christian villages lie directly in the path of the fighting. As violence intensifies in this area, the Holy See has not remained indifferent to the precariousness of the Christian presence under current conditions. Pope Leon XIV, deeply moved by the plight of civilians caught in the shadow of war, solemnly spoke of the death of Maronite priest Pierre Rai of Qlayaa – a symbol of a tragedy that strikes indiscriminately. According to retired General Khalil Gemayel, former commander of the southern Litani sector, the Christian border towns include Alma el-Chaab (Tyr district), Rmeich, Aïn Ebel, Debel, Qowzah and Yaroun (Bint Jbeil district), as well as Bourj el-Moulouk, Qlayaa, Jdeidet Marjeyoun, Ibl el-Saqi and Deir Mimas (Marjeyoun district). In the Hasbaya district, there are also Rachaya el-Foukhar, Kawkaba, Abou Qamha and Mazraat Serda.

In times of war and crisis, the Lebanese scene divides between those who drag every division and grievance back to the surface in order to inflame and worsen them, and those who work to build a climate of national unity capable of carrying the country through the difficult period, waiting for calmer days in which the great national questions might at last be addressed. It is certain that this is not the moment to plunge into questions as deep and fraught as the validity of the Taif Agreement, the nature of the political system, or the abolition of political confessionalism. This is a phase for ending the war, for tending the wounds, for finding a way out of the impasse into which the country has sunk — an impasse that nothing, for now, suggests will be easy to escape in the near term.

Following the official ban on the military activities of Hezbollah and Iran’s Revolutionary Guards in Lebanon, the decision to expel Iran’s ambassador to Beirut and recall the head of Lebanon’s diplomatic mission in Tehran undoubtedly marks the most consequential step taken by Nawaf Salam’s government since Hezbollah drew the country into the military confrontation opposing Iran to Israel and the United States. And for good reason: for the first time since Taif (1989), the Lebanese authorities are setting clear limits and seeking to shield the country from foreign interference in its internal affairs – interference that has often proved damaging, even devastating.

One hundred and eight years ago, just months before the end of the First World War – on March 18, 1918 – Georges Clemenceau, then France’s Prime Minister and Minister of War, addressed the National Assembly in stark terms: “People say: we do not want war, but we want peace as soon as possible. Ah! I too desire peace as soon as possible. Everyone does. Anyone who thinks otherwise would be a great criminal. But one must be clear about what one wants. It is not by bleating about peace that one silences Prussian militarism. My policy is this: I wage war.” This statement by the man widely regarded as the architect of France’s 1918 victory invites renewed reflection in light of the regional conflict unfolding today.