Artículos

I was deeply moved while watching the Netflix series Antarctica , and I found myself wondering whether we in Lebanon could achieve something similar to what happened in Japan in 1950, or whether our situation is simply hopeless. The series revolves around the model embodied by the Japanese expedition to Antarctica in the 1950s, illustrating how a scientific and technical project can become a vehicle for rebuilding national sentiment in the aftermath of occupation and defeat. Emerging from the Second World War, Japan did not confine itself to rebuilding its physical infrastructure. It also sought to reconstruct its collective narrative and its image in the world by shifting the basis of legitimacy from the military sphere to the scientific and civil sphere. The expedition played a symbolic role in this transformation, as it was presented as evidence of the Japanese nation’s ability to rise again and reintegrate into the international community through peaceful means. What is striking about this experience is that launching the expedition was not merely an administrative or scientific decision. It was, above all, a profoundly political and symbolic act, framed by a public discourse that linked scientific progress to the restoration of national dignity. Educational institutions and the media played a central role in this process through campaigns of emotional and educational mobilization that simplified the project and presented it as a collective human adventure capable of engaging different segments of society and raising the funding required for the expedition at a time when the state’s resources were limited. This is precisely where the remarkable role played by the mobilization of children becomes apparent. Elements of the polar environment, such as penguins and sled dogs, the huskies, were turned into emotional and educational vehicles that made the project accessible to the public imagination and created an emotional bond between individuals and the expedition. This symbolic use of animals was far from incidental. It was an effective way of turning a complex project into a story that people could understand and identify with, particularly younger generations. In this sense, popular donations were not merely a source of funding. They also became a means of fostering a sense of belonging, as the very act of donating helped reinforce the feeling of participating in a shared national achievement. This brings us to what Benedict Anderson calls “imagined communities,” in which the nation takes shape through shared narratives that give individuals the sense that they belong to an entity larger than their own personal experiences. It also falls within what Eric Hobsbawm described as “the invention of tradition,” whereby rituals and practices are constructed in ways that lend legitimacy to a new form of patriotism. According to Axel Honneth, the nation-state is not built through laws and constitutions alone, which in Lebanon lose their function and effectiveness because of corruption. It is also built through what he calls a “shared ethical life.” Such a life can only take shape when citizens share “practices, living traditions and common projects” that foster solidarity and mutual recognition, making them feel that their individual freedom is connected to the freedom of others and to the success of the community as a whole. This is precisely what Lebanon lacks today, in the absence of any common project capable of redefining national identity beyond the confines of sectarianism and corruption. Yet the success of the Japanese experience was not the result of discourse alone. It rested on specific structural conditions. The first was the existence of a cohesive state capable, despite defeat, of planning, executing its policies and managing its resources. The second was the presence of political and administrative elites that understood the need to move from a militarized nationalism toward a form of civil and scientific legitimacy, and sought to entrench this transformation through concrete projects. The third condition, and perhaps the most important, was the level of public trust in institutions, which enabled citizens to believe that their material or symbolic contributions would genuinely be used in the service of the common good. Without this trust, any attempt at popular mobilization loses its meaning and is reduced to little more than a formal exercise. When I considered launching a similar fundraising campaign in Lebanon to help the people of the South, contribute to reconstruction and prevent the Shiite tandem from exploiting the occasion, a reality radically different from Japan’s became apparent. Lebanon’s current reality stands as the structural opposite of the Japanese experience. Rather than serving as a unifying framework, the state has become an arena of competition between sectarian forces and patronage networks, undermining its ability to launch any common national project. The collapse of trust between citizens and institutions also preempts any possibility of broad-based public fundraising, since public resources are widely perceived as vulnerable to plunder or to being diverted toward factional interests. Added to this is the coexistence of competing narratives about the very meaning of Lebanon as a political entity, between the logic of “resistance” and that of “sovereignty,” as well as conflicting regional and international allegiances. This prevents the emergence of a “shared narrative” on which collective mobilization could be built. In this context, reconstruction and aid mechanisms become instruments for reproducing political allegiances. This is evident in the dominance of clientelist institutions over the distribution of resources, reinforcing dependency rather than building a system of equal citizenship. The purpose of this comparison, therefore, is not to replicate the Japanese model. Rather, it is to expose what is missing in the Lebanese case: a symbolic and institutional framework capable of transforming an economic act into an act of belonging. The problem lies not only in the scarcity of resources, but also in the inability to create a shared sense of purpose strong enough to make individuals willing to contribute voluntarily to a project that transcends their divisions. Accordingly, any initiative aimed at financing reconstruction in Lebanon will remain limited in its impact unless it is accompanied by the rebuilding of trust, the formulation of a shared national narrative, and the establishment of transparent mechanisms that sever the link between resource allocation and clientelist practices. In short: freeing the state from its occupiers. Without that, the contrast between the two experiences will remain the expression of profound differences in the structure of the state, the nature of its elites, and the conditions under which a shared national sense of purpose can emerge.

The holding of Morocco’s legislative elections on September 23, as scheduled, reflects the regularity of political life in a kingdom more than twelve centuries old. At every stage of its long history, Morocco has managed to overcome difficulties, obstacles and challenges of various kinds, leading up to the reign of Mohammed VI, who ascended the throne a little over twenty-seven years ago, succeeding his father Hassan II. The development of political life has been one of the defining features of Mohammed VI’s reign. It has gone hand in hand with the construction of modern infrastructure of such a standard that someone arriving in Morocco from Spain or Portugal hardly feels they have left two European countries for a different world… Holding the Moroccan elections on schedule consolidates new concepts of governance based on strict respect for the Constitution approved by citizens in the 2011 popular referendum. Among its provisions is the requirement that the person tasked with forming the government come from the party that wins the largest number of seats in Parliament. The elections will therefore open the door wide to bargaining among the parties, especially since the party that wins the largest number of seats will not be able to secure a majority allowing it to form a government without entering into alliances with other parties. This is what happened four years ago following the last elections, when the National Rally of Independents, then headed by Aziz Akhannouch, won the largest number of seats without securing an absolute majority. The 2011 Constitution marked a new departure for political life in a kingdom that chose to develop itself without ignoring the difficulties it faces, given its lack of natural resources on the one hand and the war of attrition to which it has been subjected since 1975 on the other. It is no secret that Morocco has been facing a war of attrition waged against it by the Algerian regime since it recovered its Saharan provinces from Spanish colonial rule through the “Green March,” a peaceful march in which some 350,000 Moroccan citizens took part in response to a call by the late King Hassan II. This war of attrition, in which the Polisario Front has been used for more than half a century, has come at a high cost. Yet it has not prevented Morocco from pursuing its development plans and diplomatic activity, which culminated in October 2025 with the adoption of UN Security Council Resolution 2797, recognizing Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara and that the only viable solution lies in the proposal for broad autonomy within the framework of Moroccan sovereignty. The elections and the phase that will follow them can be regarded as part of the challenges Morocco faces, including the fight against poverty that Mohammed VI called for from the moment he ascended the throne. Such a campaign, beginning with the elimination of slums and the provision of decent housing for the citizens who live in them, remains the best means of combating terrorism and all forms of extremism. Holding the elections on schedule will confirm that change for the better cannot take place without comprehensive political awareness at the national level. Such change takes place through the ballot box, not through the street, even when the protesters’ demands are legitimate. Aziz Akhannouch’s government did not fall in September and October last year when young members of Generation Z took to the streets to protest the standard of medical services and education, as well as rising tuition fees in private schools. The street did not bring down the government. But there is now an urgent need for a new government headed by a figure closer to ordinary citizens and more attuned to their concerns. There is a need for someone who has demonstrated in the recent past an ability to succeed when entrusted with a specific mission. More plainly, there is now a need for a government that understands the real reasons why mere false reports and rumors spread on social media drove thousands of young people, in the final days of last July, toward Ceuta, which is occupied by Spain in northern Morocco. These young Moroccans, whose number reached fifty thousand, believed that Ceuta, situated on Moroccan land, was a treasure trove from which they could scoop up gold and then return to their towns and villages to live in material comfort. From this standpoint, it is important for the elections to play their required role in bringing about political change. At the same time, however, they place all political parties and their leaders before challenges imposed by Moroccan realities. This naturally includes rising to the level of the momentum of development the kingdom is experiencing, with hospitals, medical centers, ports and service facilities being built in different parts of the country. There is also a genuine awareness on the part of Mohammed VI himself of the importance of raising educational standards. The Moroccan monarch spoke openly about this issue a few years ago in a Throne Day address, explicitly discussing the level of education and the importance of mastering foreign languages, alongside Arabic, of course. With around three weeks remaining before Morocco’s elections, the political class should absorb what the scene in Ceuta revealed about young people, unemployment, disparities and the wait for the benefits of major projects to materialize. The king himself addressed this a year ago when he stressed the need for all of Morocco to move forward at the same speed. Most importantly, the crisis surrounding Ceuta did not turn into an internal political divide, an open confrontation with Spain, or a diplomatic rupture that would reorder Morocco’s relations with Europe. This success confirms the Moroccan state’s ability to absorb the shock, prevent its known adversaries from imposing their own interpretation of it, and then put the event back into perspective without denying its seriousness. These are among the key issues of the post-election phase, first and foremost for Morocco’s political class.

Neo-Ottoman Ankara is making its move in the Bilad ash-Sham! And neither the Israeli bombardment of Abu al-Duhur air base on August 18th, nor the strikes on the outskirts of Damascus ten days later, let alone Tel Aviv's barely veiled threats, are doing anything to halt Turkey's southward advance along the "Syrian Sea" (1). Tom Barrack, the U.S. ambassador to Turkey and special envoy to Damascus, will have his work cut out for him now that a strategic rivalry is taking shape between Turkey and Israel, with Syria—and soon Lebanon—as the primary arena of competition, and potentially confrontation. Washington, having taken note of Iran's retreat, must now think about establishing a "deconfliction" mechanism between its two allies—the Jewish state and Erdogan's republic—given that both are seeking to fill the vast void left behind by the floundering Iranian mullahs! A nostalgia for Europe and a rebuffed Turkey Things might never have come to this had the European Union Council not concluded in June 2019 that accession negotiations with Ankara were "at a standstill." Turkey, driven by a deep-seated nostalgia, had always dreamed of a European destiny. Twice, the sultan's armies laid siege to Vienna (1529 and 1683), and it is worth recalling that before making Constantinople its capital, the sultanate had established its seat in Adrianople (Edirne), in Eastern Thrace. It should also be noted that after the end of the First World War, reduced to the scale of a nation-state, the Turkish republic—an undeniable regional power—had modernized without abandoning Islam. Was this the reason the European Union turned it away? Turkish authorities came to believe that Europe intended to remain an "exclusively Christian club." So, to put it simply, they had no choice but to expand eastward into the Turkic-speaking world and southward into the Arab-speaking world. And here we are. The sword and the censer Yet the Grand Turk, as he was known in the days when he made the Habsburgs tremble, is no newcomer to the Middle Eastern stage. For four centuries, the Bilad ash-Sham was part of his empire, and its predominantly Sunni identity naturally inclined its people to accept the authority of the monarch-caliph, the shadow of Allah on earth (2). It should be recalled that the Ottomans crushed Mamluk power and conquered Syria in 1516. By the end of September of that year, Damascus was taken, and the Friday sermon was at last delivered in the great Mosque in the name of Sultan Selim. On October 2nd, Islamic legitimacy was thus conferred upon the glory-crowned ruler, and the following day, he made a triumphant entry into the Umayyad capital as a victorious conqueror. Two elements had cemented his authority and won the allegiance of the "rayahs" throughout the Bilad ash-Sham, as elsewhere: military victory and a shared faith. In other words, it was "the alliance of the sword and the censer"—much like the Ancien Régime in France, or Spain under Franco and Portugal under Salazar. And let no one tell us that mindsets have changed since then! When will we finally acknowledge that it was these same two levers that brought Ahmad al-Sharaa to supreme power on the banks of the Barada—namely, battlefield victory and his rigorous Islamic orthodoxy? The Sykes-Picot Accords, once again But let us go back about a hundred years and note that Syrians, both before and during the First World War, had little desire to break away from Anatolia; they would have been content with a degree of decentralization in which their cultural aspirations were recognized and the Arabic language was accepted in public administration. They would have readily accepted a dual monarchy along the lines of Austria-Hungary, had it not been for the harsh and often brutal policies pursued by Jamal Pasha during the war years. In any case, it was not a local uprising (3), let alone the meager Arab forces of Emir Faysal, that brought Ottoman rule to an end in 1918 — it was rather the triumphant advance of Allied troops, primarily British. Then, from the Mandate period onward, Arab nationalism, left to its own devices, developed its own idiosyncrasies. But it was above all the abolition of the caliphate in 1924 and the forced secularization — both hallmarks of Atatürk's regime — that would further strain four centuries of ties between the Turkophone and Arabophone worlds. The Baath Party subsequently exploited Arab-Turkish animosity as a way of entrenching its power, with the annexation of the Sanjak of Alexandretta in 1939 doing little to help reconciliation between the two peoples. Beware of sudden infatuations All of this is to say that the Syrian-Turkish dispute, though it persists, can be resolved in a spirit of religious brotherhood. Erdoğan's Turkey, which proudly proclaims its Islamic identity, is welcome in a Syria where for fifty years the Baathist regime insidiously persecuted the Sunni majority and silenced its religious leaders. Now that Iran and the Russian Federation have withdrawn without a backward glance, Turkey is supposedly welcome. There are even reports that young Syrians of fighting age would not hesitate to swell the ranks of Ankara's forces should it come to blows with Israel. A hundred years of heightened Arab nationalism may not have erased four hundred years of Ottomanism, nor obliterated a thousand years of religious solidarity! N.B.: Turkey would do well to be wary of Syrian enthusiasm toward it! It should remember the fate that befell Nasser. In 1958, Damascus gave him a triumphant welcome on the proclamation of the United Arab Republic. And then, in 1961, came the humiliating breakup! 1- Historically, the expression "Sea of Syria" or Mare Syriacum in Latin refers to the eastern part of the Mediterranean lying off the Syrian-Lebanese coast. 2- A title borrowed from the Byzantine basileus at the fall of Constantinople in 1453. 3- In Syria, despite the deteriorating living conditions during 1914–18, there was no significant riot, intifada, or fitna against the Turks. In fact, the officers, intellectuals, and upper-bourgeoisie who had rallied to Emir Faysal were regarded as traitors in major urban centers such as Aleppo, Homs, Hama, Damascus, and elsewhere.

Ever since the United States adopted a policy of sanctions and economic pressure on Iran, negotiations between the two parties have made no progress. The visit of Qatari Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Sheikh Mohammad Abdulrahman Al Thani to Tehran on Thursday aimed to revive these talks, particularly with a view to facilitating smoother passage through the Strait of Hormuz. On Friday, Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi skillfully seized on the visit to make a cautious overture toward the United States. Posting a photo with the Qatari official on his X account, he accompanied it with a message stating that returning to the negotiating table "is not impossible." As expected, he attached carefully worded conditions to this statement: the United States must acknowledge that pressure is futile, must build trust with Iran, speak to it with respect (!) and recognize its rights, while honoring their commitments. A tall order — especially since the Americans are showing no signs of abandoning their economic pressure strategy in order to resume talks. On Friday, the U.S. Treasury said it had identified the networks and intermediaries used by Iran to smuggle oil exports and circumvent sanctions… "We will target any source of illicit revenue for the Iranian regime, in coordination with all U.S. government agencies and our allies," the Treasury emphasized. Furthermore, according to the news site Axios , the United States believes it has significantly weakened Iran's grip on the Strait of Hormuz, which has over time become the central issue in negotiations — even more important than the nuclear file or ballistic missiles. On that note, the Iranian Foreign Ministry issued a statement on Friday warning "all countries" against enforcing what it called "illegal and unjustified" U.S. sanctions against Iran, and calling for the application of "international law." The country will remain determined to counter "the joint military and economic offensive by the United States and Israel," the statement continued. Meanwhile, Iranian security chief Mohsen Rezaei categorically denied reports released by U.S. intelligence on Tuesday, which alleged that Tehran had hatched a plot to assassinate Barron, the youngest son of U.S. President Donald Trump. The Iranian official chose Hezbollah's television channel to denounce what he called American "lies" regarding the alleged plot to assassinate Barron Trump. It is worth noting that Iranian state television had itself broadcast this story a few days earlier, reporting a significant bounty offered for any contribution to the operation… Strikes on the outskirts of Damascus The other major story of the day is a fresh surge in tensions between Damascus and Tel Aviv, following two incidents that occurred on Thursday evening and Friday morning. The first was an Israeli incursion into Ras al-Ajraf in Syrian territory, near the Golan Heights, on Thursday evening. According to the pro-Hezbollah channel Al-Mayadeen , Israeli soldiers reportedly searched several homes in the area. The second incident took place on the outskirts of the Syrian capital Damascus on Friday morning. A correspondent for the Syrian SANA agency reported that two shells had landed in agricultural fields in the Damascus countryside, causing no casualties. Israel does not appear to be in any rush to ease tensions with Syria, despite the recent meeting in Jordan between Syrian Foreign Minister Asaad al-Shaibani and the head of Mossad, which was intended to defuse the situation following Israeli strikes on a Syrian airport in Idlib. The raid also nearly triggered a serious escalation with Turkey, an ally of the Syrian regime. Meanwhile, Thursday proved to be a deadly day in the Palestinian territories. Israeli strikes killed three people in Gaza, including two members of the same family. Strikes in Jenin, in the northern West Bank, targeted 'several terrorists,' according to a statement from the Israeli military. Haykal meets with French chargé d'affaires Southern Lebanon, meanwhile, continues to be rocked by explosions and Israeli bombardments. The Israeli military is increasingly conducting incursions into Lebanese territory, notably to carry out searches or blow up houses. The destruction appears to be intensifying, particularly in certain towns such as Nabatieh and Mansouri, in the Tyre area. With no new prospects emerging from the direct negotiations being conducted by Lebanese authorities with Israel under American sponsorship, France's role is once again beginning to reassert itself on the Lebanese scene. Lebanese Armed Forces Commander Rodolphe Haykal met on Friday with French chargé d'affaires Bruno Da Silva, ahead of a conference expected to be held in Paris in support of the Lebanese army. A preparatory meeting is expected to take place in the French capital on September 17, and General Haykal is expected to attend. Shortly before the French diplomat's visit, the army chief had been received by President of the Republic Joseph Aoun at Baabda.

“Blessed are the peacemakers.” Perhaps no phrase better captures what Lebanon needs today than the one Pope Leo XIV carried with him during his visit to Lebanon and made a central message to the Lebanese people. His visit came to a country exhausted by wars, crises, and divisions, placing peace at the heart of Lebanon’s public discourse, not as surrender or concession, but as an act, a responsibility, and a project for the future. Yet Lebanon’s paradox is that we, who have lived through so much war, have sometimes come to fear the very word “peace.” Why? Why must a Lebanese justify calling for peace? And why do some feel that merely using the word can put them in the dock, as though they had relinquished their rights, accepted surrender, sought normalization, or abandoned the cause? Has peace become an accusation in Lebanon? These are not linguistic questions. They reveal a deep problem in Lebanon’s political culture. Lebanon has lived through decades of war. Civil war, occupations, invasions, attacks, assassinations, internal conflicts, and regional struggles turned into Lebanese crises. Each time, the Lebanese paid the price: the dead and wounded, displacement, destruction, economic collapse, emigration, and social fragmentation. And yet we still have not learned that war is not Lebanon’s destiny. Perhaps the time has come to redefine peace. The peace Lebanon needs is not the peace of surrender, nor the peace of submission, nor a peace imposed from abroad. It is a Lebanese peace. And that peace begins with a simple idea: Lebanon must be master of its own decisions. The state must decide on war and peace. State institutions must be the sole authority. The Lebanese Army must be the institution that protects the borders and sovereignty. The law must stand above everyone. And Lebanon must not remain an open arena for other people’s wars. Peace does not mean relinquishing our rights. It means seeking to protect those rights by means that preserve Lebanon and its people, rather than by means that turn Lebanon once again into a land of war. Peace is not weakness. It may in fact be one of the hardest forms of strength. It is easy to open fire, easy to declare war, easy to raise slogans of victory. What is harder is preventing war when you have the power to ignite it, choosing negotiations when they better serve your people, and using diplomacy, law, and international relations to protect your country. That is why peace does not contradict sovereignty. On the contrary, genuine peace is the fruit of sovereignty. A sovereign state decides when to fight and when to negotiate. It speaks on behalf of its people, defends its borders, signs agreements, and assumes responsibility for implementing them. But when decision-making centers multiply, peace itself becomes impossible. There can be no lasting peace as long as forces within the country are capable of deciding on war outside constitutional institutions. And this is not about one sect rather than another, or one religious community rather than another. The problem is not the Shiites, the Sunnis, the Christians, or the Druze. The problem lies in sectarian logic when it becomes a substitute for the state. Lebanon does not need armed communities to protect one another. Lebanon needs a state that protects everyone. A Shiite should not need a party in order to feel safe. A Christian should not need outside protection. A Sunni should not have to look to a regional power for support. A Druze should not have to fear for his existence. The state is the guarantee. This is where internal peace becomes a condition for external peace. We cannot speak of peace with the world while the Lebanese themselves live in a state of mutual fear. Lebanese peace means moving from the logic of groups to the logic of citizenship. It means ensuring that a Lebanese citizen feels that his rights are protected because he is a citizen, not because he belongs to a sect, a party, a region, or an axis. That is why implementing the Constitution is not a technical matter. It is part of the peace project. The Constitution defines institutions, powers, and relations between the branches of government. Lebanon’s problem is not always the absence of texts, but their failure to be implemented and the replacement of the state with a system of political and sectarian quota-sharing. Peace cannot be built on quotas. Peace requires the rule of law. And the state requires an independent judiciary, effective institutions, accountability, and equality among citizens. But peace is not limited to politics and security. There is also social and economic peace. What does a ceasefire mean if a Lebanese citizen remains without work? What does security mean if a young Lebanese is forced to emigrate? What does stability mean if poverty keeps rising, the state remains powerless, and the economy lies in ruins? Peace also means enabling the Lebanese to live with dignity. To find a school, a university, a hospital. To find a job. To be able to build a home and start a family. To feel that the future lies in Lebanon, not at Beirut airport. Peace, therefore, is not merely the absence of war. Peace is the presence of life. And this is where the Pope’s words, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” take on their deeper meaning. He did not say: blessed are those who wait for peace. He said: the peacemakers. Those who make it. And this responsibility belongs to the Lebanese before it belongs to the international community. We cannot ask the world to make peace for us while we ourselves refuse to take part in making it. Peace requires a Lebanese decision. It requires a state. It requires dialogue. It requires political courage. And above all, it requires a change in a political culture that has turned war into heroism, compromise into betrayal, negotiation into weakness, and peace into concession. We must rehabilitate the very idea of negotiation. Negotiation is not betrayal. Diplomacy is not surrender. And seeking a settlement that preserves Lebanon’s interests is not a concession of Lebanon itself. States do not protect their interests with weapons alone. They also protect them through law, diplomatic power, the economy, alliances, institutions, and their ability to build balanced relations with the world. The Lebanon we want must not be beholden to any axis. Not Iran. Not Israel. Not the United States. Not any regional or international power. Lebanon first. That is what sovereignty means. Lebanon’s relations with others must be based on Lebanese interests, not dependency. Lebanon must be a bridge, not an arena. A state, not a card to be played. A homeland, not a platform. Perhaps this is the true meaning of Lebanese peace. A peace that does not erase disagreements, but prevents them from turning into wars. A peace that does not ask the Lebanese to abandon their memory, but refuses to let memory become fuel for another war. A peace that does not forget the martyrs, but does not send their children to another death. A peace that does not ignore occupation or aggression, but places the interests of Lebanon and its people first. We must therefore stop being afraid of the word “peace.” Perhaps we should fear something else instead: that war should become normal in our lives, while speaking of peace becomes suspect. What country wants to remain a prisoner of war? What people wants its children to live waiting for the next war? And what state can build an economy and a future when the decision for war is not exclusively its own? The time has come to move from the question: How do we win the war? To a more important question: How do we prevent war? And from the question: Who is stronger? To the question: How does the state become stronger than everyone else? And from the question: Who protects our community? To the question: How can the state protect all Lebanese? These are not questions of surrender. They are questions of nation-building. The peace Lebanon needs, therefore, is not only peace between the Lebanese and Israel, nor between Lebanon and Syria, nor between Lebanon and any other state. It is, first and foremost, peace between one Lebanese and another, peace between the citizen and the state, peace within the state itself, and peace between Lebanon and its surroundings and the world. Peace means Lebanon ceasing to be an arena. And becoming a state. Peace means restoring decision-making to institutions. Peace means placing weapons exclusively in the hands of the state. Peace means making the Constitution a reference rather than a slogan. Peace means making citizenship stronger than sectarian belonging. Peace means making development stronger than war. Peace means making the future of our children more important than our victories of the past. And in the end, perhaps we should not be ashamed of the word “peace.” We should be proud of it. For those who seek peace do not seek less death. They seek more life. Those who want peace do not abandon their homeland. They seek to protect it from becoming a permanent arena for conflict. And the peacemaker is not weak. He is the one who possesses the courage to break the cycle of violence. The Pope said: “Blessed are the peacemakers.” And Lebanon, which has known war more than it has known peace, now needs to turn those words from a religious formula into a national project. A project that says clearly: We want Lebanon to be a state, not an arena; sovereignty, not dependency; citizenship, not sectarian power-sharing; development, not destruction; peace, not war. Perhaps the greatest resistance we can mount today is resistance to turning Lebanon into a battlefield. And perhaps the greatest victory for the Lebanese would be for their children never to have to fight the next war. Blessed would Lebanon be if it became a peacemaker, rather than a perpetual victim of wars.

The escalating tensions in Lebanon, Gaza, the Red Sea, and the Strait of Hormuz are fueling fears of a scenario that Iran and its allies have already employed before: a series of military provocations that would gradually intensify to counter the American economic D-Day. The Israeli military says it is preparing for a possible "multi-front flare-up," on the eve of a series of Jewish holidays beginning on September 11. While Iran is careful not to provoke Israel directly—to avoid a retaliation that would cost it dearly—it would not hesitate to encourage its allies to act as troublemakers, should the American economic vice tighten further around it. That does not yet appear to be the case, however, as Pakistan made clear on Thursday through its Foreign Ministry spokesperson, Tahir Andrabi, that Islamabad "is not obligated to comply with unilateral U.S. sanctions against Iran, unless they are imposed by the United Nations." In practical terms, this means Pakistan intends to continue its trade with Tehran, despite U.S. President Donald Trump's threat to sanction any country that maintains any form of economic exchange with the Islamic Republic. According to the Pakistani spokesperson, Islamabad believes that the American sanctions "are not in line with international law and that disputes (between the U.S. and Iran) must be resolved through dialogue." The spokesperson fails to note, however, that this so-called "dialogue" has been ongoing for more than twenty years—specifically since 2006, when the UN Security Council demanded that the Islamic Republic halt its uranium enrichment. For three consecutive years starting in 2006, the UN Security Council adopted increasingly severe sanctions against Iran due to its refusal to comply with UN directives… Nevertheless, Islamabad's stance represents the first official position taken by a state in response to the economic D-Day announced on Monday by President Trump against Iran. Growing tension On the ground, tensions have escalated on nearly every front. In Gaza, the situation involving kites, balloons, and drones launched into Israeli territory nearly spiraled out of control. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his Defense Minister Israel Katz both warned Hamas that airstrikes would intensify if such launches continued. In the Red Sea, two strategic sites providing access to the equally strategic Bab el-Mandeb strait—the port of Mokha and the town of al-Khawkha on Yemen's western coast—were targeted in fierce Houthi strikes and remain the scene of intense fighting between the pro-Iranian group and the Yemeni regular army. In the Strait of Hormuz, vessels venturing into U.S.-secured shipping lanes continue to be targeted by attacks. In Lebanon, a woman was killed and six others—including a young girl—were wounded in Israeli airstrikes targeting the town of Arabsalim in the Nabatiyeh district, just hours after Hezbollah launched booby-trapped drone attacks against Israeli forces stationed near the strategic hill of Ali Taher in the same district. Exchanges of fire and airstrikes intensified on Thursday, targeting numerous villages in southern Lebanon. The escalation is all the more alarming given that Israeli military operations are no longer confined to the so-called security zone. Israeli Chief of Staff Eyal Zamir announced a raised alert level among his troops and outlined operational plans "on all fronts, from Iran to Lebanon and through to Gaza," in response to the risk of a "multi-front flare-up." Mediation attempts, but… This situation is an indicator of the failure, so far, of mediation attempts that have resumed between Tehran and the United States. Following the Pakistani Chief of Army Staff, Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir, and Omani Foreign Minister Sayyid Badr Al-Busaidi, who were received consecutively on Monday and Tuesday in Tehran, it is now Doha's turn to attempt to revive diplomatic efforts. Qatari Prime Minister Mohammad bin Abdulrahman Al Thani traveled to Iran on Thursday, where he held two meetings with President Massoud Pezeshkian and the Speaker of the Iranian Parliament, Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf. Are we once again witnessing a race against the clock between diplomacy and the military option? It should be noted that the latter remains a last resort for Washington, according to American officials — but for Iran, where internal pressure is beginning to mount significantly, the calculation is rather delicate: either endure the sanctions or escalate pressure on the ground. This is where Lebanon is particularly affected, and where Hezbollah's role becomes increasingly sensitive, as the state continues to indefinitely postpone the question of disarming the pro-Iranian militia. President Aoun indirectly addressed the (verbal) standoff with this group on Thursday, citing an "internal conflict" between "those seeking to strengthen state institutions and those who benefit from their weakness" — without outlining any possible roadmap to actually resolve that conflict. Beirut continues to pin its hopes on direct talks with Israel, which are set to resume in September in Rome, according to Italian Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani, though no specific date has been given. To understand the core of Lebanon's problem, one must follow the statements of the US Ambassador to Lebanon, Michael Issa, who again stressed on Thursday the priority of disarming the pro-Iranian party, while also highlighting the regional dimension of the issue. "Hezbollah," the US Ambassador noted, "must hand over its weapons, and the state must be the sole authority." "As for guarantees, they require that sovereignty rest exclusively with the state and that defense also falls under its purview." "As long as the state holds authority, controls its institutions, and maintains relations with other states, it can always call upon them for the assistance it may need," the US diplomat said following a meeting with the Druze Cheikh Akl, Sami Aboul-Mona. But for this to be possible, Hezbollah must break away from Iran — which is no easy feat, the diplomat acknowledged. "So far, Hezbollah refuses to engage with the state, with us, or with Israel, because it simply takes its orders from Iran," he emphasized.