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Let us set aside, if only for a moment, the objections raised by the framework agreement, the political divisions it has generated, and the conflicting positions it has provoked. Instead, let us ask a different question, one that may prove even more important than the agreement itself because it concerns what comes next. If we assume that Lebanon is moving, sooner or later, toward bringing its state of conflict with its regional environment to an end, and that the Middle East is gradually entering a new phase in relations among states, does the Lebanese state have a clear vision of what it wants from this new chapter? Has anyone even begun to consider Lebanon’s future economic and political position should the regional order that has shaped the country for decades begin to change? What is striking is that the Lebanese debate remains almost entirely confined to the agreements themselves: their terms, their guarantees, their implementation mechanisms, and the objections they provoke. Yet the question that ought to precede all the others remains conspicuously absent: what do we, as a country, actually want from this transformation? States do not view the end of war merely as a political or security achievement. They see it as a pivotal moment to redefine their economic priorities, reassess their regional position, and rethink the role they intend to play within their wider region. That is why they do not simply negotiate agreements designed to end conflicts. At the same time, they commission studies, develop scenarios, and formulate policies capable of turning stability into economic growth, investment, job creation, and regional influence. Yet in Lebanon, this conversation does not appear to have begun at all. There has been no national study assessing the potential impact such a transformation could have on the Lebanese economy, no comprehensive vision identifying the sectors that could become the engines of future growth, and no serious debate over the role Lebanon should seek to play in the Eastern Mediterranean if the region’s political landscape were to evolve. It is as though we assume that any agreement, once reached, will automatically usher in prosperity, even though the experience of nations shows precisely the opposite. Stability does not create development. It merely provides the conditions in which development can be achieved by those who know how to seize the opportunity. More importantly, Lebanon is not facing the prospect of redefining a single relationship, but rather of managing distinct relationships with two states whose economic structures differ profoundly. That reality calls for two entirely different approaches. The relationship with Syria, if it is ultimately built on clear foundations that fully respect the sovereignty of both states, would bring together two economies facing broadly similar challenges. Both countries are seeking to rebuild their economies, restore confidence, modernize their infrastructure, and revive their productive sectors. This opens the door to discussions about reorganizing transit routes, developing legitimate border crossings, connecting transport and energy networks, and taking part in any future reconstruction process within a transparent framework that safeguards Lebanese interests and prevents a return to the patterns of dependency and interference for which Lebanon paid such a heavy price over the course of decades. Fundamentally, this would be a relationship built on the search for complementarities between two economies striving to recover side by side. The relationship with Israel, by contrast, begins from an entirely different reality. Here, we are not dealing with two broadly comparable economies, but with a vast disparity in economic size, technological sophistication, innovation capacity, industrial strength, access to global markets, and ability to attract investment. Consequently, the question takes on a different dimension. The real challenge is not the volume of direct trade between the two countries, but how Lebanon positions itself within a regional economic environment shaped by the presence of such an advanced economy. In circumstances like these, smaller states cannot build their strategy on competing directly with larger economies in the same sectors. Instead, they must identify the areas in which they can create distinctive added value, whether through services, education, the digital economy, creative industries, finance, healthcare, or any other sector capable of giving them a unique role within the region. This inevitably leads to the question that should lie at the heart of any national debate in the years ahead: What role does Lebanon want to play in the Middle East over the coming decades? Since independence, Lebanon has never consciously chosen that role. At certain moments, geography made it a financial hub. At others, wars turned it into a battleground. Regional transformations then compelled it to survive by assuming temporary roles dictated more by circumstance than by deliberate national choice. But if the region is indeed entering a fundamentally different era, Lebanon will no longer be able to wait for external developments to determine its purpose. For the first time in decades, the Lebanese themselves will have to decide what kind of economy they want to build, what model of development they wish to pursue, and what place they aspire to occupy within the region. What Lebanon needs, therefore, is probably not yet another debate over the provisions of various agreements, but the launch of a broad national effort to develop a comprehensive vision for the post-conflict era. Such an effort should begin with the economy before politics, and with defining Lebanon’s future identity before addressing the details of its relationships with its regional environment. Agreements do not, by themselves, shape the future of nations. They merely open new opportunities. A country’s future ultimately depends on its ability to seize those opportunities and transform them into a coherent national project. Perhaps the greatest irony is that Lebanon has spent so many years debating war without ever seriously debating how it wants to live once the wars are over. If the regional transformation now taking shape does indeed become a reality, the real question will not be whether we support or oppose this agreement or that one. It will be whether, for the first time, we possess a clear vision of the Lebanon we wish to build once the region around us has been transformed.

The summit between Lebanese President Joseph Aoun and U.S. President Donald Trump in Washington marks a key milestone in the Lebanese government’s efforts to restore the authority of the state. Behind the summit lay a strategic objective that is part of the broader regional transformation now underway and that the United States fully supports because it also serves its own objectives: bringing an end to Iran’s influence in Lebanon. In practical terms, as is widely understood, that means resolving the issue of Hezbollah’s illegal weapons. The group continues to reject the authority of the Lebanese state and remains firmly opposed to the political course pursued by the president. For the Lebanese people and the international community, however, with the obvious exception of Iran, resolving the issue of Hezbollah’s weapons remains an essential prerequisite for restoring the state’s sovereignty. That issue, together with Israel’s withdrawal from southern Lebanon under the June 26 Lebanese-Israeli framework agreement and, above all, support for the Lebanese Armed Forces, was at the heart of the talks between Presidents Trump and Aoun at the White House. President Aoun described his meeting with his American counterpart as excellent. Earlier, during a press conference ahead of the summit, Trump had reiterated the main pillars of his administration’s policy on Lebanon and Iran. On Lebanon, Trump reaffirmed his full support for both the country and his Lebanese counterpart, whom he said had “been fighting Hezbollah for a very long time.” He also said he wanted “to help Lebanon a lot,” describing it as “a very badly treated country for a long period of time,” before praising it as “the homeland of many of my friends.” Aoun thanked his host for what he called “a historic visit and the historic achievement we accomplished together with the signing of the framework agreement.” The last visit by a Lebanese president to Washington was in 2009. He recalled that the framework agreement’s “ultimate objective” is “ending the state of hostility between Lebanon and Israel forever.” Before the meeting, the Lebanese president had said he intended to ask his U.S. counterpart to pressure Israel to withdraw from southern Lebanon. Since taking office, Aoun has pledged to disarm Hezbollah. In the Oval Office, he asked Trump for substantial support for the Lebanese Armed Forces and urged him to “continue supporting” the country’s regular forces. “Without them, everything will collapse. We don’t want that. I don’t think President Trump wants that either,” Aoun said. Trump replied that he had “very concrete plans” to help the Lebanese Armed Forces, which are to play a pivotal role in the process of disarming Hezbollah and restoring the authority of the state. But the U.S. president “will likely want further evidence that Joseph Aoun is serious about his commitments” to disarm Hezbollah and achieve peace with Israel, Robert Satloff, executive director of the Washington Institute, told AFP. In this context, Al Hadath, the Arabic-language channel, reported that President Aoun did in fact present Trump with a plan to disarm Hezbollah, which could lead to a drastic weakening of Iran's influence in Lebanon. Speaking to reporters, Trump said he would be willing to talk to Hezbollah “if President [Aoun] wanted me to.” “I can talk to anybody,” he said. He also praised Nabih Berri, speaker of Lebanon’s Parliament and leader of the Amal Movement, Hezbollah’s ally, saying he “wants the war to end.” Alongside the political dimension, one of the most notable immediate outcomes of the White House meeting was undoubtedly President Trump’s announcement that he had instructed his administration to authorize all U.S. airlines to resume direct flights to Lebanon. “Iran Has Not Seen Anything Yet” On Iran, Donald Trump reiterated his threats, saying that “the United States is not done at all” with the Islamic Republic, which is tightening pressure on the Strait of Hormuz through its Yemeni allies, the Houthis. The United States would “deal with” the Houthis if they carried out their threats, the U.S. president said. Washington had already mobilized against the group after it disrupted maritime traffic during the Gaza war, launching drone and missile attacks against ships. Trump also reiterated that Iran, which he said “hasn’t seen anything yet,” “desperately” wanted a meeting. But he added: “Until they are ready to do it in a constructive way, we don’t see any reason to do so.” Iran’s interior minister, who was in Islamabad on a diplomatic mission, was expected to return empty-handed after Trump made clear to Pakistan’s mediator that he was not interested in the 10-day truce proposed by Tehran. During his press conference, the U.S. president also raised the possibility of strikes against Mount al-Faas (literally “Mount of the Axe”), which houses one of Iran’s most heavily fortified and secret underground nuclear facilities. The Lebanese Army in Zawtar al-Gharbiyeh The Aoun-Trump summit took place as the first phase of the June 26 Lebanese-Israeli framework agreement was being implemented on the ground in Lebanon. The Lebanese Army began deploying in Zawtar al-Gharbiyeh, a village in the Nabatiyeh district that had been occupied by Israel. Early Tuesday morning, the Lebanese Army announced the start of its deployment in the area, saying the operation was being carried out on the basis of contacts with the body established under the framework agreement, namely the Military Coordination Group for Lebanon (MCG4L). But shortly after the deployment began, tensions rose again following an incident that underscored the fragility of the process underway. The Lebanese Army accused Israeli forces of opening fire “near” its units as they were entering Zawtar. In a statement, the military command warned that the firing “hinders the implementation of the deployment in the pilot areas,” which were coordinated with the MCG4L and number three in total. They are Froun, Srifa and Zawtar al-Gharbiyeh. Israel had maintained a presence only in the latter village. The Israeli army, quoted by Kan, confirmed the firing but said it consisted only of warning shots. According to the Israeli army, Lebanese soldiers accompanied by a bulldozer had crossed the agreed boundary for that pilot area. The warning shots were intended to make them turn back. The U.S.-led monitoring mechanism was immediately informed of the incident, according to the Israeli military. The Lebanese Army, for its part, barred residents from returning to Zawtar as long as calm remained fragile there, particularly as it was clearing the village of missiles and other unexploded ordnance. Shelling and Demolition Operations Despite the entry into force of the first phase of the framework agreement, the intensity of Israeli military operations in southern Lebanon has not decreased. Blasting operations continued on Tuesday, particularly in the Bint Jbeil district, as well as in Khiam, where the Israeli army says it is destroying Hezbollah infrastructure. The heights of the strategic Ali Taher hill in Nabatiyeh were targeted again, while explosions were heard across the so-called security zone established by Israel along its northern border with Lebanon, where it continues to operate as long as it considers that Hezbollah’s capabilities have not been neutralized. Iranian Threats While the Lebanese issue is moving forward in line with the approach adopted by the Lebanese authorities, with U.S. backing, the regional issue – and more specifically the U.S.-Iran negotiations – has stalled. The day after another round of overnight U.S. strikes, which have become a daily occurrence over the past ten days, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) threatened “even more violent” attacks against U.S. interests in the region. This means Gulf countries and Jordan, with Tehran refraining from striking Israel for fear of opening the gates of hell and facing the consequences. Bahrain, Kuwait and Jordan intercepted Iranian missiles again on Tuesday. Kuwaiti authorities accused Iran of targeting civilian infrastructure for the fourth consecutive day, including power plants and water desalination plants, where fires broke out. Meanwhile, in Yemen, the Houthis intensified the maritime blockade they have imposed on Saudi Arabia in response to the U.S. blockade of Iranian ports. On Tuesday, they warned shipping companies that they would target any vessel traveling to or from Saudi ports, prompting Donald Trump’s warning during his joint press conference with Joseph Aoun. Finally, on the diplomatic front, Paris summoned Iran’s chargé d’affaires following the assault on two French diplomats in Tehran. French authorities are demanding that those responsible be punished. They reiterated that no easing of European sanctions would be considered as long as Iran continues its nuclear program and what they describe as destabilizing actions in the region.

With the proclamation of the independence of the Hebrew State on 15 May 1948, the first Arab-Israeli war broke out. Israelis refer to it as the War of Independence, while Arabs remember it as the Nakba (“the Catastrophe”). The newly established Israeli army confronted the forces of Egypt, the Emirate of Transjordan, Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon. During the first phase of the fighting, the military balance remained fragile and inconclusive. The Arab armies fielded roughly 28,000 troops, supported by a limited number of aircraft and armored vehicles. Israel, meanwhile, relied on a force of nearly 40,000 fighters, whose core consisted of the Haganah and the Palmach. After two months of fighting, a first ceasefire was arranged in July 1948. During this period, the Israeli military leadership succeeded in unifying the Jewish armed organizations, notably the Irgun and Lehi (the Stern Group), thereby establishing both a monopoly over military force and a unified chain of political command. At the same time, Israel recruited tens of thousands of additional soldiers and acquired significant quantities of modern weaponry from Czechoslovakia, then part of the Soviet sphere of influence. The Israeli army soon numbered close to 100,000 troops, equipped with aircraft, tanks, and artillery. From that moment onward, it achieved a strategic superiority over the combined Arab armies, an advantage that, in many respects, has endured to this day. It was in this context that the armistice agreements with Egypt, Transjordan, Syria, and Lebanon were signed. In practice, they amounted to a recognition of the reality of the State of Israel, albeit one cloaked in a misleading political discourse designed to placate an outraged Arab public, particularly the Palestinians. From that point onward, Israel seized the strategic initiative, first during the 1956 Suez War, and later in the June 1967 War. The leaders of the Hebrew State were convinced that Israel’s national security rested not only on the superiority of its armed forces, but also on its strategic position in the Middle East as an outgrowth of the new international order led by the United States and recognized by the Soviet Union and, with it, the socialist bloc. Yet this alone was not enough. It also required constantly invoking the memory of the Holocaust whenever a Jew, anywhere in the world or in Israel, became the target of verbal abuse, physical harm, or, all the more so, an armed attack. This is how the notion of the “existential threat” came to occupy the center of Israeli political and media discourse, invoked in response to every challenge facing Israel, whether it originated from another state, an armed organization, or an individual, and whether Israel was acting offensively or claiming the right of self-defense. Over time, the “existential threat” became a kind of mathematical constant, embedded in every strategic equation and treated as an inescapable premise. The expression can be found in the writings and speeches of Israeli politicians and generals, in the analyses produced by research centers, and in the work of leading intellectuals. In this respect, there is little distinction between Israel’s political and academic elites and a public whose collective imagination remains deeply shaped by an existential anxiety. Even some of the New Historians, who once challenged this conventional narrative, eventually retreated under sustained and well-documented pressure. The events that followed the 7 October 2023 attack demonstrated how swiftly the West came to Israel’s aid at a moment when its military capabilities had been shaken and its security establishment had failed to contain the surprise assault of Al-Aqsa Flood, both in its scale and in its immediate consequences. Palestinian Sunni Islamist extremism succeeded in exposing many of the structural weaknesses within Israel’s military establishment, plunging its leadership into shock, uncertainty, and strategic disorientation. Had it not been for the direct involvement of Pentagon generals, who effectively assumed operational leadership during the first week in order to restore military, security, and political coherence, though not psychological stability, the outcome might have been very different. It took more than a month, together with the near-total devastation of the Gaza Strip, for Israel’s military establishment to regain the operational rhythm now set by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his Defense Minister, Israel Katz. More than a thousand days have now passed since that catastrophe. The consequences of the “Flood” unleashed by Palestinian Sunni Islamist extremism continue to deepen for the people of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, while the surge of Israeli military power has continued to spread across the wider Middle East. Matters have reached the point where Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has reportedly told the leaders of countries such as India and the United Arab Emirates that they no longer needed to go through the White House. “All they had to do,” he said, “was turn to him personally, and everything would be taken care of.” When one looks today at the deployment of Israeli forces across the Palestinian territories, Syria, and Lebanon, the scale of the strategic leap made possible by the events of 7 October becomes unmistakable. Yet the notion of an “existential threat” remains the cornerstone of Israel’s strategic doctrine. It now has three distinct faces that must be eliminated. Three Faces Orders have been issued to neutralize each of these three faces in the name of eliminating what is portrayed as an existential threat to the State and the nation. The First Face The first is Dr. Hossam Abu Safiya, a pediatrician, neonatologist, and director of Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahia, in the northern Gaza Strip. Time and again, he was ordered through loudspeakers to evacuate the wounded so that the hospital could be completely destroyed. Soon afterwards, shells began raining down from both the air and the ground. Yet he remained at his post, saving lives, above all those of children . His own son, who had not yet reached the age of twenty, was killed at the entrance to the hospital. The father buried him beside the hospital wall, then returned immediately to caring for his young patients and the wounded. When the medical complex was eventually reduced to rubble, Dr. Abu Safiya and his entire staff were arrested before the eyes of the world in live television broadcasts. Arrested in December 2024, he remains in detention to this day, where, according to testimony collected by international organizations, he has been subjected to systematic torture intended to destroy his humanity. He continues to be held without formal charges under Israel’s Unlawful Combatants Law. The investigation into his alleged links with armed groups has, to date, failed to produce any evidence. Yet he is still alive. And he, too, continues to embody an existential threat. The Second Face She is neither a doctor nor an anonymous figure whose identity, convictions, or commitments are unknown. Nor does she live in Israel or Palestine. She is the Lebanese journalist Amal Khalil, who, alongside photojournalist Zeinab Faraj, documented the daily lives of the people of South Lebanon. In the village of Tayri, she was targeted twice: first when the convoy in which she was travelling came under attack, and again when the house where she had sought refuge was itself struck, while rescue teams were prevented from reaching the site. Is this not the very definition of a premeditated assassination? All of this was accompanied by official claims that she had repeatedly been warned. According to the Lebanese Order of Journalists, twenty-seven Lebanese media professionals have been killed since the launch of Operation Al-Aqsa Flood. The World Health Organization has also documented 137 attacks against healthcare facilities and medical infrastructure. The Third Face In this same month of July, on 8 July 1972, the Beirut suburb of Hazmieh was shaken by a car bomb that killed the writer, artist, and editor-in-chief of Al-Hadaf , Ghassan Kanafani, together with his niece Lamees Najm, who was not yet seventeen years old. Kanafani himself was only thirty-six. He had portrayed Palestine through his drawings, written novels and short stories translated into seventeen languages, authored countless political editorials, and served as a leading figure in the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. Yet he never carried a weapon. Since then, the writer, the journalist, and the intellectual have themselves become existential threats. Today, 265 journalists have been killed in the war in Palestine, while hundreds more have been wounded. International organizations have also documented attacks on, and the destruction of, dozens of media institutions. Thus, the doctor, the journalist, and the writer become targets for assassination or imprisonment simply because they practice their profession. This cannot simply be accepted as the natural order of things. Independent legal case files should be prepared for every victim, outside any official framework, and each case pursued individually before the competent courts. Israel’s invocation of the so-called existential threat can no longer be allowed to serve as a shield against accountability, a means of escaping justice, and an instrument for continuing to blackmail the international community.

Lebanese President Joseph Aoun's official visit to Washington — and more specifically, his scheduled meeting at the White House with President Donald Trump this Tuesday, July 21 — could, or rather should, give a major boost to the clearly sovereigntist direction the Lebanese leadership has taken. This direction — echoing the March 14 movement's slogan of "Lebanon First" — has been most openly and unequivocally expressed since March 2, when Hezbollah unilaterally dragged the country (despite warnings from the government) into yet another futile war, solely to support the Iranian regime and ostensibly "avenge" the death of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, who was killed in the early hours of the American-Israeli strike on Iran on February 28. In order to gauge the real strategic impact that the Washington meetings could have on Lebanon's fate in the short and medium term, it would be useful to step back and take a broader view — to soberly assess the multiple upheavals that the Levant region has witnessed since the fateful October 7, 2023, when Hamas launched its deadly attack on Israeli territory from Gaza. That operation marked a turning point for the region. It was the starting point of a long series of major political and military developments that have unfolded at a rapid pace, continuing to this day, with the cumulative effect of accelerating the decline of the so-called "rejectionist" camp (the mou'mana'ah). This decline began, right from the outset, with the destruction of Gaza and the dismantling of Hamas. It quickly continued with the assassination of Hassan Nasrallah, the decapitation of Hezbollah's political and military leadership, the resulting drastic weakening of the pro-Iranian party, the fall of the Assad regime (which stripped the Islamic Republic of its vital strategic corridor), and most recently the rise to power in Iraq of a leadership team waging an all-out struggle against Iranian influence in the country. The new direction emerging in Baghdad over recent weeks was further consolidated during the recent visit of new Prime Minister Ali al-Zaidi to Washington, where he was received by President Trump, who emphasized his firm support for the new Iraqi leadership in its fight against Iranian influence. The Islamic Republic is thus losing yet another vital sphere of influence that had served it well on multiple levels. It is against this broader regional backdrop — defined by the strong and inexorable progressive decline of the mullahs' regime — that these "Lebanese days in Washington" are taking place. President Aoun's talks with Secretary of State Marco Rubio on Sunday, and with President Trump on Tuesday the 21st, should significantly consolidate and cement the government's sovereigntist orientation, which fits squarely within the broader framework of weakening — or even dismantling — the expansionism of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. The direction taken by the Lebanese leadership in this regard is, moreover, openly framed as freeing Lebanon from Iranian tutelage. American officials have not failed to underscore the strategic importance of this guiding principle, which is shaping ongoing developments across the region — going so far as to speak of an "alliance" between Beirut and Baghdad against Iranian influence. And to make Washington's unequivocal support for restoring the authority of the central government unmistakably clear, Secretary Rubio has expressly invited Lebanon and Syria to jointly issue a formal declaration centered on mutual respect for each country's sovereignty. As if anticipating the outcome of President Aoun's visit to Washington, the Secretary of State emphasized on Monday that the head of state will be able to tell the Lebanese people, upon his return to Beirut, that it is he — thanks to his national vision — who has succeeded in putting the country back on the path to recovery. Mr. Rubio was keen to stress that Washington has no interlocutor in Lebanon other than President Aoun and legitimate state institutions — and certainly not the Iranian regime. Launch of the 'pilot zones' implementation It is on the basis of this same commitment to restoring a sovereign and free Lebanon that the Trump administration is throwing its full weight behind the implementation of the framework agreement signed on June 26 between Lebanon and Israel. The establishment of the pilot zones provided for under the Lebanese-Israeli agreement began Monday evening and was expected to continue Tuesday, with the withdrawal of Israeli forces from the first pilot zone — comprising the villages of Froun, Srifa, and Zawtar al-Gharbiyeh — where the Lebanese army is set to deploy on Tuesday and ensure, under American supervision, that the area is free of any Hezbollah militia presence. If this process continues without incident, it will undoubtedly confirm the success of the government's decision to pursue direct negotiations with Israel in order to initiate the withdrawal of Israeli forces and resolve the situation in southern Lebanon. The State Department was quick to note on Monday that the launch of the 'pilot zones' is a direct result of the recent Lebanese-Israeli talks held in Rome just days ago. It is worth recalling that President Aoun and the Nawaf Salam government committed to this path despite pressure and maneuvers from the Iranian regime, which sought to impose 'its' solution to the South in order to claim the right to control the Lebanese card — the better to strengthen its position in its bargaining with the Trump administration. The Lebanese government firmly rejected the Iranian approach, making clear that it is the Lebanese state, and the Lebanese state alone, that has the right to negotiate on Lebanon's behalf. Back to 'negotiations' with Tehran? As Lebanon continues on its path toward restoring its sovereignty, a faint glimmer of hope appeared to emerge on the regional horizon Monday evening. Reports from Islamabad indicated that a ceasefire proposal — yet another one — lasting around ten days was being floated. This pause, which would include freedom of navigation through the Strait of Hormuz, would be used to explore ways of resuming talks between Washington and Tehran. At this stage, then, what is being discussed are negotiations aimed at paving the way… for negotiations on the contentious issues themselves. Yet discussions with the Islamic Republic on these very issues — the nuclear program, uranium enrichment, ballistic missiles — have been dragging on for more than twenty years. They began in the early 2000s, and between 2006 and 2010 were even the subject of six UN Security Council resolutions demanding that Iran halt uranium enrichment. To no avail. Over the past twenty-four hours, the Iranian regime expressed its willingness to revive talks with the United States and dispatched its Interior Minister to Islamabad for that purpose, to explore how to restart the ceasefire in the Gulf in line with the memorandum of understanding reached with Washington in June. Iran's Foreign Ministry was expected to issue a statement on Monday underscoring the need to 'remain committed to negotiations with the Americans.' This suddenly "pacifist" approach appeared all the more surprising given that a statement attributed late last week to the mysterious Supreme Guide, Moujtaba Khamenei, declared that "the signature Donald Trump placed on the memorandum of understanding carries no value" — which, in Tehran's eyes, implicitly renders null and void the very same memorandum of understanding that some Iranian leaders are now seeking to revive… Such inconsistency follows, it should be noted, nine consecutive nights of intensive American bombardment targeting positions, military infrastructure, and weapons and ammunition depots belonging to the Revolutionary Guards. Attack on two French diplomats In any case, while emphasizing its desire to resume "dialogue" with the United States, the mullahs' regime simultaneously did not refrain from launching missiles and drones on Monday evening against Kuwait, Bahrain, and Jordan. At the same time, two new attacks on vessels transiting the Strait of Hormuz were reported on Monday, even as the Iranian president reaffirmed earlier that day that "Iran's role" in the Strait of Hormuz "is non-negotiable"! A senior Iranian official stressed for his part that this waterway would remain off-limits to any country "cooperating with the United States"! As for the Speaker of Parliament and chief negotiator with Washington, Mohammed Bagher Ghalibaf, he made highly discourteous remarks toward the Americans, condemning the delivery of military equipment by the US army while the US "claims to want to end the war." He further revealed his combative stance by adding: "They are betting on the fact that our intelligence is as limited as their own IQ"! Iran-backed Houthi rebels in Yemen, for their part, announced a "maritime blockade of Saudi Arabia," following an exchange of fire between the two sides last week. More seriously still: France's Foreign Minister, Jean-Noël Barrot, stated on Monday evening that two French diplomats "were detained without cause" in Tehran by security services "for several hours, were interrogated, and one of them was physically assaulted"! Mr. Barrot condemned what he called "an extremely serious act of intimidation." This rapid accumulation of aggressive actions and hostile rhetoric speaks volumes about the true mindset of Iran's power centers and the way in which they have, for more than twenty years, perceived their relationship with the West and the international community at large.

From an early age, Elias Howayek was keenly aware of the hardships faced by the rural communities where he had grown up. After becoming a bishop, he realized he had a responsibility to address the unequal access to education for girls from modest families in his native region. His letters and writings show that he viewed the education of young women as the cornerstone of family life, convinced that providing women with a solid education meant safeguarding the moral, civic, and social future of Lebanese society. On August 15, 1895, Elias Howayek founded the Congregation of the Maronite Sisters of the Holy Family in Jbeil with Mother Rosalie Nasr and Sister Stéphanie Kardouche, whom he had, on the advice and with the approval of their superiors, released from their convent in Nazareth in the Holy Land. Mother Rosalie Nasr (1840-1899) was a remarkable woman and an experienced religious sister who had held senior leadership positions within her original congregation, the Sisters of Our Lady of Nazareth, as well as with the Sisters of the Rosary. She met Elias Howayek in what proved to be a providential encounter while he was still a bishop, and he shared with her his vision for the new congregation. After obtaining the consent of the Patriarch of Jerusalem, she devoted herself entirely to “the work,” alongside Sister Stéphanie Kardouche, her former student, who had accompanied her from Nazareth. The choice of the name “Holy Family” reflected both an educational and a spiritual purpose: the sisters were to embody the virtues of the Holy Family of Nazareth in order to support and preserve a threatened family unit and a threatened society, part of which was surrendering to the pleasures of the postwar period, to dances and to games of chance. The congregation was confronted with challenges from an early stage, most notably the tragic death of Mother Rosalie in 1899. The tragedy unfolded during the night of August 22-23, 1899, when a young woman considered “mentally ill” and dismissed from the convent as unsuited to religious life returned and stabbed her to death. On a warm, moonlit night, familiar with the layout of the small convent, she made her way to Mother Rosalie’s room on the ground floor, climbed through an open window, approached her bed, and plunged a knife into her heart. Mother Rosalie died shortly afterward. Archbishop Howayek responded without delay. On August 30, 1899, just one week after Mother Rosalie’s death, the founder appointed Sister Stéphanie Kardouche – Mother Rosalie’s companion and spiritual daughter – as the congregation’s new superior. Barely 30 years old, yet already shaped by responsibility, Sister Stéphanie ensured the continuity and stability of the congregation’s mission with remarkable determination, sustained by her vision and by her conviction that the work was guided by Providence. Today, the Congregation of the Maronite Sisters of the Holy Family remains a symbol of that pioneering vision, bringing together spirituality, education, and social development. The congregation’s motherhouse in Ibrine, near Batroun, houses the mortal remains of Patriarch Howayek, whose body appears to have decomposed only slowly, as well as a fine museum devoted to the many facets of the man who shaped the soul of Lebanon. An Architect and a Builder Patriarch Howayek is also remembered for his architectural achievements, which include such emblematic landmarks as the Shrine of Our Lady of Lebanon in Harissa, as well as the patriarchal residences in Bkerke and Dimane. His work also extended to the congregation’s motherhouse in Ibrine, whose church is adorned with delicate stained-glass windows that he personally selected. His appreciation for beauty appears to have been cultivated through his encounters with the churches and monuments of the Eternal City. The Harissa shrine was erected in honor of the “Immaculate Conception,” the doctrine that the Virgin Mary was conceived free from “original sin.” The Jesuit fathers, who at the time were in charge of the Ghazir seminary, helped install a monumental bronze statue of the Virgin Mary overlooking the spectacular Bay of Jounieh. Harissa has since become a national pilgrimage site and much more. Pilgrims from Lebanon and across the Middle East come there to seek the intercession of a woman revered by Christians as the Mother of God and by Muslims as “the purest of women.” Patriarch Howayek also consolidated the patriarchal residence of Bkerke, which had replaced Dimane in 1830 as the seat of the patriarchate, after the demographic center of the Maronite community shifted toward central Mount Lebanon. The patriarch had the old patriarchal residence replaced with a new one. From that period onward, Bkerke became what it remains today: the administrative and spiritual center of the Maronite Church, while also serving as a strategic base for its political and diplomatic activities – toward France and the League of Nations in Howayek’s time, and toward the wider world today. As was only fitting, Dimane, near the Cedars, became the summer residence of the Maronite patriarchs. The patriarch’s achievements also extended beyond Lebanon’s borders, reaching France, Egypt, Jerusalem, and Rome. They reflected the fusion of his spiritual commitment and political vision, reinforcing both the authority of the Maronite Church and the project of a Lebanon that was free and pluralistic, modern and united. Read also: “Love of the Homeland,” Patriarch Howayek’s Spiritual Testament (2/4) Patriarch Howayek, Prophet of Coexistence (1/4)

In the exhibition catalogue, Hady Sy presents his project as a search for “a path toward coexistence” between organic intelligence and technological intelligence, between memory and computation, between the hand and the algorithm. These worlds are not placed in opposition but brought into the possibility of an ethical encounter, one in which technology serves humanity while safeguarding its dignity. Yet the works themselves, as they unfold throughout the exhibition space, appear far less confident about the stability of this balance. They do not deny the possibility of coexistence, but they simultaneously reveal just how fragile it is. Hady Sy builds his sculptures from the binary language of zero and one. This is no longer a theoretical metaphor but a tangible, almost unsettling experience: bodies that walk, carry burdens, grow weary, yet are themselves written in a digital language. Here, the catalogue’s assertion that “the human being cannot be reduced to data” encounters its own contradiction within the work itself. For these bodies are indeed digital. Yet they still preserve something that resists such reduction: memory, dignity, or perhaps simply the determination to remain standing. In this sense, Hady Sy’s work does not advance a finished thesis. Rather, it opens up a space of tension between what ought to be, technology placed at the service of humanity, and what already is, a world in which human beings are increasingly reduced to data. It is precisely from this tension that the works derive their strength. Not from providing answers, but from leaving the question unresolved. If the catalogue sketches the horizon of coexistence, the works themselves unfold through a series of stations that may at first appear unrelated, only gradually revealing themselves as chapters of a single narrative: that of the human condition in an age of reduction. That narrative begins at the origin, with the seed, with the “primordial soup” invoked as a metaphor for the emergence of life, not as a moment of purity, but as the point of departure for a long process of transformation. Nature does not appear here as a silent backdrop but as an intelligence that precedes humanity itself, an intelligence embodied in the growth of trees, the flow of water, and the hidden order that governs living beings. Yet this origin is also one of repetition: the same stones are assembled in different ways to give rise to different forms of life. The sculpture of the staircase marks the next stage. Bodies climb upward toward nowhere, suspended in a space without a discernible horizon. There is neither arrival nor return, only the continuity of passage. Migration is presented here not merely as a political event but as an existential condition, a destiny that accompanies modern humanity, for whom the journey itself has become the destination. At the heart of this disorientation, tragedy reaches its fullest expression in works that evoke famine and war, most notably the sculpture depicting figures composed of zeros and ones carrying a plate while walking across corpses. The first paradox, grasped by the eye before it is articulated by the mind, is that these bodies, despite their digital reduction, continue to hold their heads high. Yet the scene soon turns upon itself as the very same forms assume the appearance of soldiers, perhaps standing over the very corpses they had moments earlier seemed to mourn. The form does not change, yet its meaning is reversed: from victim to executioner. It is as though violence has no need to invent new forms, merely reusing the same ones after assigning them a different code. This is more than a simple reversal of meaning. It exposes a deeper mechanism of domination, whereby the same forms can be redeployed in contradictory contexts without ever losing their original appearance. In this respect, the work recalls the world of George Orwell, where power asserts itself not through rupture but through the inversion of meaning from within language itself, as well as that of Haruki Murakami, where violence slips into everyday life under familiar, almost ordinary guises, making it difficult to recognize at first glance. What Hady Sy achieves, however, is neither linguistic nor narrative. He transforms form itself into the site of tension between opposing meanings, revealing that what we see is not always what is. This logic of repetition finds its echo in other works, such as Cactus , where the memory of the Indigenous peoples of the Americas appears not as a closed historical episode but as a pattern that continues to reproduce itself. The world, these works suggest, never ceases to produce new “others,” pushed to the margins or condemned to disappearance. Past, present, and future converge: the colonial past, the turbulent present, and a future open to the recurrence of similar destinies. Along this same trajectory emerges Sisyphus, not as an isolated mythological figure but as the distilled image of a universal human condition. The burden never ends, and the effort begins anew, not as an individual punishment but as a condition of existence itself. Yet this world is not entirely devoid of openings through which another meaning may enter: a rose, a kiss, the trace of love. Fragile though they may be, these gestures continue to resist the logic of brutality. The themes thus reveal themselves not as separate subjects but as the interconnected strands of a single web: origin, wandering, violence, repetition, and resistance. Together, they portray the human being suspended between what might have been and what has, in fact, become. If, at the conceptual level, these works point to a world in which the human being is reduced to a number, their true power lies in the way they are materially realized. Iron, and particularly Corten steel, is not merely a medium here but a language in its own right. Hard, heavy, and typically associated with construction and infrastructure, with everything functional and enduring, it is redirected from its ordinary purpose. Hady Sy bends it, curves it, and shapes it into forms that evoke the human body, as though rigidity itself were compelled to acknowledge the fragility it contains. This tension between hardness and curvature operates not only at the level of form. It reenacts what becomes of the human being in times of war: a body that learns to bend, to adapt, to calculate, without entirely losing the trace of its humanity. Iron thus becomes not the body’s opposite but its distorted extension, its translation into a world governed by the imperatives of measurement and power. These sculptures do more than represent our world. They offer a sensory reconfiguration of it, making visible what often eludes language and allowing us to touch what is ordinarily reduced to numbers. Perhaps that is why these works leave such a lasting impression. They do not offer a meaning to be consumed but an experience that continues to unfold within us. An experience that compels us to reconsider what we had taken for granted: what it means to be human, to belong to a place, and to inhabit a time whose boundaries have become increasingly uncertain. And it is precisely within this hesitation, between what can be measured and what can be lived, between what can be calculated and what can be felt, that the question can no longer be deferred: How can the human being remain human in a world that is redefining itself in a language that is no longer entirely their own?