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Homage
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By Michel Hajji Georgiou
Published Sep 6, 2026 - 13:31
The Argentine player, who brought his international career to an end on August 31, 2026, was nothing less than a magician of the stadiums. His journey, made of wonders, falls and redemption, may tell us something about our undiminished need for enchantment in a world that nevertheless claims to have rid itself of it. Announced a few weeks after the 2026 World Cup final lost to Spain, Lionel Messi’s international retirement inevitably stirred an emotion for which it is difficult to find many equivalents in the recent history of football. One would probably have to go back to Maradona, or perhaps to Cruyff or Pelé, to recover that sense that, with the retirement of a player, something disappears that extends far beyond the sport itself, as though a certain way of inhabiting football, perhaps even of believing in it, were also coming to an end. Far from the glacis of reason Enough of the endless statistics and the unbearable, tedious and sterile quarrels over “who is the greatest of all time.” The author of these lines has never been a fanatic of the round ball, nor, for that matter, of vertical rankings or hierarchies of merit in general, and consequently appreciates the talent of each player with the same sense of wonder as an eleven-year-old child. Besides, this particularly contemporary obsession with numbers ruins all the pleasure of the spectacle. And with good reason: the approach that consists in adding up goals, assists, Ballons d’Or, Champions Leagues, Copa América titles, World Cups… can only be reductive. On another register, it is not entirely unrelated to German-American philosopher Eric Voegelin’s critique of the modern Gnostic temptation: that of a form of knowledge convinced that it can imprison reality within a system and abolish whatever resists it. Records are probably one indicator of Lionel Messi’s genius. Yet so many other great players who made stadiums and hearts tremble, without achieving half of what he did, nevertheless remain eternal in our memories. What made them truly singular lies elsewhere, far from the glacis of reason. Something else was at work around them. Something belonging to a certain profound sense of transcendence that understanding can never fully grasp. This has been true of Lionel Messi for more than twenty years, since the day when, under the gaze of the “icon” Diego Maradona, he made his first appearance, in June 2006, on the World Cup stage in the colors of the Albiceleste against Serbia and Montenegro. That ineffable element that constitutes Messi’s genius, as it does that of others, may indeed touch upon one of modernity’s strangest paradoxes: the persistence of magic in a world that has constructed itself precisely against it. The disenchanted world Max Weber used the expression “disenchantment of the world” to describe the slow process by which Western modernity gradually subjected existence to rationalization, calculation, predictability and causal explanation. The world was no longer supposed to be traversed by obscure powers, signs, supernatural interventions or invisible wills; it was, at least in principle, to become intelligible. Unfortunately, modern sport, and more broadly the modern world inherited from globalization, fits perfectly within this dynamic. Today’s football, and not football alone, is probably one of the most quantified objects imaginable. The slightest gesture is measured, and everything is carefully calculated and modeled. From mathematics to artificial intelligence, raw talent now depends more on science than on enchantment. What is human in its spontaneous, even wild, relationship with the invisible that springs from the heart is disappearing before our eyes, in favor of the squaring of the VAR circle. It is, in a sense, the murder of sport in the name of greater rigor and fairness… even though the euthanasia of this share of sublime spontaneity ultimately produces glaring injustices of its own. One need only revisit some of the controversial decisions of the 2026 World Cup to see it. Paradox of paradoxes, Lionel Messi was himself, at the outset, a child of this technical modernity, to which he certainly owes part of his exceptional career. His body, too small by expected standards, was corrected through hormone treatment. Identified very early, his talent was taken in hand by an institution that organized his training, nutrition, physical development and integration into an already globalized sporting machine. Nothing, in appearance, could have been further removed from the old heroic narrative. At first sight, the story seems closer to dystopias in the vein of Gattaca than to myths and messianic narratives. And yet the old narrative did indeed return, and with an almost embarrassing insistence. Since the beginning of his career, Lionel Messi has been placed under the microscope. But the more people labored to explain and demystify him, the less they succeeded in entirely dissipating the impression produced by some of his gestures. The man simply cannot be circumscribed and reduced to an accumulation of data. At an age when most great players retreat into the shadows, he continues to surprise. To astonish, even, by bringing to sport that element of the senseless which escapes the quasi-robotic hypersystematization of the world. It is probably there that one must seek this elsewhere that characterizes Messi. In the survival of magic at a time when even the spaces that once allowed the positive expression of a humanity made of flesh and blood are gradually being “disciplined” by the hypnotic attraction of a new puritanical Gnosis in the name of modernity. The Messiah made by the machine Although he emerged, in a sense, from the machinery of the Matrix , Lionel Messi constitutes in himself a challenge to this ready-to-wear model. A kind of alter ego of Neo from The Matrix , thrown into a simulation governed by parameters that claim to calculate everything. The Argentine’s destiny gradually took on, almost despite himself, the form of a messianic narrative. The pun on his name would be too easy had it not been ceaselessly revived by his own story: that of the fragile child whose body seemed intent on denying him the fulfillment to which his talent destined him. Then that of exile at a very young age to Barcelona, adoption by a foreign city, an almost unreal ascent, worldwide recognition, followed by this strange difficulty in being recognized by his own… For a long time, Argentina maintained a relationship of hainamoration with its prodigal child. His results, his talent, his brilliance mattered little… he still had to answer one merciless question: why wasn’t he Maradona? The comparison was admittedly inevitable, but it was also profoundly unfair. Everything separated the two men in their way of being in the world. Maradona carried Argentina with everything in it that was passionate, contradictory, excessive and theatrical. He spoke, provoked, fought, fell, returned, mingled football with his private life, his anger, his political commitments… all the way to his own destruction. His very body seemed to become one of the places where the contradictions of his country were played out. Maradona was the very incarnation of what the world expected from football: a rebellious soul, sometimes pushing the game to the point of immorality, but within a kind of footballing gigantomachy. Maradona was epic. And, above all, he had placed his country at the summit of world football in 1986. Messi offered none of that. He was silent, at times almost absent from the story others were constructing around him, an absence long interpreted as a flaw. Almost erased, devoid of personality. That, moreover, was what the two giants Maradona and Pelé reproached him for: a lack of leadership, being too smooth. A kind of miracle test-tube baby of the stadiums. The boy from Rosario was also criticized for not singing the anthem loudly enough, for not being Argentine enough, for having been “manufactured” by Barcelona, and then, naturally, for failing to win with the national team what he won almost continuously with his club. The unfulfilled prophecy The dramatic loss to Germany in the 2014 World Cup final, followed by the Copa América finals of 2015 and 2016, had gradually transformed that suspicion into an accusation. When he missed his penalty against Chile in 2016 and subsequently announced that he was leaving the national team, he was nevertheless already one of the greatest players in football history. Yet his story remained strangely unfinished. The sense of incompletion had little to do with his honors. It concerned instead that quasi-archaic necessity continually imposed upon modern heroes: to bring their initiatory journey to completion. In Argentina’s colors, Messi shone, then fell heavily. But he did not rise again. He did not fulfill the prophecy. And, in the eyes of his people, this reinforced the sense of hainamoration: a fallen god remains a god, after all. But with the added burden of what his worshippers regard as an intolerable substratum of humanity and, therefore, something perfectly detestable: his flaws, his weaknesses. Argentines loved Maradona despite his spectacular downfall and his fallible humanity. But that was because he had “earned” the right to such a downfall, because it had somehow become acceptable after Mexico 1986. Messi, by contrast, did not yet have the right to fall, because he had not yet reached the summit. No, the prophecy had not been fulfilled. It was even becoming a caricature. So Messi returned. But he still had to wait for his redemption. It took the 2021 Copa América at the Maracanã for this relationship of suspicion, expectation and disappointment with his public and his people truly to begin changing. And above all it took the 2022 World Cup for the story to acquire that almost excessively perfect form that no one would have dared write without appearing to indulge in a screenwriter’s contrivance. Strangely, Maradona had died in 2020. It was as though a kind of oppressive national curse had been lifted. At the same time, the Argentine people needed a substitute father figure, and the pressure was thereby only redoubled. But perhaps mixed with a little tenderness this time? What happened in Qatar in 2022 is all the more interesting because Messi himself appeared slightly different. He protested more, answered provocations, lost his temper, spoke with a violence of which few had thought him capable, and even let slip that now famous “¿Qué mirás, bobo?” at the Dutch, to Argentina’s amusement. Buenos Aires finally discovered, belatedly, what it had always expected from him. A little Maradona in a great deal of Messi. But Messi did not become Maradona. And perhaps that was precisely where the true reconciliation occurred: Argentina stopped asking him to be. From 2022 onward, Messi no longer needed to embody another model of national genius. For his country too, he could finally become what he had already been everywhere else: Messi. Simply. The final act of the prophecy Granted, the triumph of 2022 could have constituted a perfect ending. But, as with Maradona, the final act of heroic prophecy is the fall. No one really expected anything extraordinary from Messi anymore in 2026. At 39, he was widely regarded as one of the “tired heroes.” The fall from the Capitol had come with the bitter episode of his departure from FC Barcelona and his misadventure at PSG. He was now playing only in the American league, in Miami’s colors… on the periphery of the footballing world, in the distant lands of soccer . And the new generation was already there, ready to send its ancestors off to Bicêtre. Yet this 2026 World Cup, which seemed destined to be nothing more than an epilogue, turned into one last sensational blaze of glory. Argentina reached the final once again, with Messi, at 39, restored as its “historic leader” and its recourse in decisive moments, achieving something not unlike what Roberto Baggio had done for Italy in 1994, at… 27: a perpetual deus ex machina . Baggio failed at the gates of triumph against Brazil after practically carrying Italy all the way to Pasadena. His penalty, sent over the crossbar, would leave behind one of the cruelest images in World Cup history: a man standing motionless, head bowed, hands on his hips, while Brazil celebrated its victory. The man who had “died standing.” The Italian imp never knew apotheosis. Yet this symbolic death, far from erasing his tournament, eventually became part of his legend. History was kinder to Messi, despite a campaign of hatred directed at him, mixed with accusations of cheating and favoritism, against a backdrop of controversial refereeing decisions and acts of unsporting conduct by his team, just as it had once been with Maradona. Kinder still, in fact. A final in a sixth World Cup on the verge of retirement, capped by an outstanding individual performance? That is precisely where the magic of the Messi phenomenon lies, and where it defies reason and its avalanche of statistics. Genius cannot be imprisoned within a sum of parameters and variables. Even optimal physical condition cannot by itself explain what the entire world witnessed. And what does it matter if his story reminds us that the hero, however mythical, cannot abolish the sinister influence of Saturn. The re-enchantment of the world For beyond the prophecy fulfilled, from ascent to fall, with its share of happiness and misfortune, the Argentine offered the world one final lap that belongs to art, if not to a form of Homeric poetry. With Lionel Messi’s withdrawal from the international stage, a little of the world’s magic disappears… until another providential hero returns to enchant the stadiums. For more than twenty years, Messi embodied the coexistence of two worlds we had thought incompatible: that of the extreme rationalization of modern sport and that, far older, of the hero, the sign, expectation and enchantment. When Messi leaves, something of this contradiction suddenly becomes visible. Other prodigies have already emerged, but perhaps, at the very moment when one of its last great representatives leaves the stage, we discover just how much we continue to need transcendence. The modern world has therefore probably not abolished enchantment. It has merely displaced it. For ninety minutes at a time, this man called Lionel Messi, who embodied it on football pitches, now leaves after having accomplished everything. And even more.
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Have We Become Stupider?

Or Are We Experiencing a Transformation in the Structure of Knowledge?
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By Mona Fayad - Published Sep 5, 2026 - 20:01
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The question “Has the world become stupider?” frequently returns in contemporary debates about digital media, search engines, and social networks. On the surface, it seems simple. Yet behind it lies a deeper issue concerning the very nature of knowledge: how it is produced, how it is transmitted, and how it is consumed. Perhaps “Have we become stupider?” is not the most accurate question. A better one might be: Is knowledge still being transmitted in a way that allows it to be understood and made productive? Do most readers still go back to the original texts? Or do they turn instead to summaries and to what is said about those texts through material circulating among readers? One key to understanding this phenomenon lies in the work of British psychologist Frederic Bartlett, who conducted a series of experiments in the 1930s on what he called “serial reproduction.” In these experiments, one person would be asked to hear a story and then retell it to someone else, who would in turn retell it to a third person, and so on. The results were striking: with each new transmission, the story was not conveyed as it had originally been told, but was reformulated. Some details were omitted, others were exaggerated, and still others were replaced by elements that better suited the recipient’s background, experience, and culture. By the time the chain had passed through enough people, the original story had become something entirely different. This simple model reveals a fundamental truth: memory is not a neutral container, but a mechanism of reconstruction. When knowledge passes through multiple intermediaries, it is not “preserved” but “reproduced.” Here we begin to see the resemblance to our contemporary world, and with it the fear that we may be becoming stupider. In the age of digital media, knowledge no longer travels through oral transmission, but through chains of mediation: an article is summarized, then quoted, then reposted as a short post, before being further reduced to a sentence or a headline. In this context, we might borrow a metaphor that appeared in a journalistic text: a library whose books are gradually replaced by summaries, then by summaries of summaries, until the reader is left facing layer upon layer of reduction. We might call this the “raccoon chain”: the raccoon does not read the original, but rummages through what remains of it. It is worth clarifying that the choice of the “raccoon” is not arbitrary. The metaphor symbolically condenses a cognitive condition that is becoming increasingly entrenched. This animal, which lives on the fringes of cities and rummages through garbage bins, does not produce its own food but feeds on the leftovers of what others have produced. Despite its practical intelligence and its ability to pry things apart, pick through them, and seize what is useful, it does not understand what lies before it. It treats things simply as material available for immediate use. This is what knowledge begins to look like in an age of serial reduction: texts are shortened, then shortened again, until all that remains are scraps of meaning, rearranged and circulated without any genuine connection to their source. At that point, we have not merely moved away from the original. We have entered a new phase in the production of information or knowledge, in which the cognitive actor is no longer a reader or a thinker, but a collector of fragments of meaning who redistributes them in forms designed for rapid consumption. “Raccoon culture,” then, is not merely a description of superficiality. It is an accurate description of the degradation of the knowledge chain itself: from creation to summary, from understanding to formal processing, from ideas to something resembling only their faded trace. Yet this phenomenon cannot be understood apart from the technological structure that governs it. Here Marshall McLuhan becomes relevant, with his famous formulation: “The medium is the message.” The problem lies not only in content, but also in the form through which that content is transmitted. Contemporary digital media do not simply convey information. They reshape it according to the logic of speed, condensation, and fragmentation. Long texts become unsuitable for consumption, while an idea becomes acceptable only if it can be compressed into a few shareable lines. This transformation produces a striking paradox: we live in a time when access to knowledge is no longer difficult. It is excessively easy. And with that excessive ease comes what might be called a “cognitive illusion”: reading a brief passage or a quick summary can be enough to make a person feel that they have grasped an idea. Yet this feeling of possession is not necessarily accompanied by deep understanding, or by the ability to reconstruct or critique that knowledge. This is where we encounter what might be called the “semi-educated”: people who possess the signs of knowledge but not its structure, its vocabulary but not its internal logic. The problem becomes even more complex when viewed through the lens of attention. Instead of remaining in a state of sustained concentration, as in traditional reading or prolonged reflection, the mind now exists under continuous informational bombardment: notifications, clips, headlines, and successive waves of content. This does not merely fragment attention. It reshapes it according to a logic of constant jumping between short units of meaning, rather than the gradual and cumulative construction of an idea. I am reminded here of a joke that we used to tell and that was widely circulated during the days of popular demonstrations. It vividly illustrates the process of reduction and reshaping of content. After the occupation of Palestine, many popular demonstrations took to the streets chanting, “Down with the Balfour Declaration!” The joke was that by the end of the demonstration, the slogan had become, in Arabic, “Let one fall from above,” a completely different phrase that retained something of the original slogan’s rhythm and sound. This image may help bring us closer to what happens in everyday language when knowledge is transformed into short messages that are collectively repeated. A demonstration begins with a precise political slogan. Through repetition, collective immersion, and sonic rhythm, it gradually turns into a completely different formula. The new version may preserve the rhythm and emotional charge of the original, while losing its meaning and original significance. What remains is no longer the meaning, but the emotional energy of the phrase. Here, in another form, we encounter what Bartlett observed: what matters is not merely what was said, but how it was retold and how it was reinterpreted within a changing social context. If we bring these strands together, we might say that what we are experiencing today is not so much a “collapse of intelligence” as a transformation in the conditions under which intelligence operates. The human mind has not changed radically, but the environment in which it functions has changed profoundly: from an environment that allowed slow accumulation to one that imposes the rapid and fragmented reproduction of knowledge. This transformation creates a permanent tension between two kinds of thinking: reflective thought, which requires time, and rapid thought, which demands an immediate response. Seen in this light, the question “Have we become stupider?” is partly misleading. It may be more accurate to say that we are increasingly exposed to conditions that make deep thinking less stable, or less possible, and knowledge more vulnerable to fragmentation and recycling. As for stupidity, if the term can be used, it may not be a quality of the mind at all, but rather a side effect and a characteristic of the cultural structure that has emerged. It is a technology that reshapes our relationship with the world. Thus, rather than seeing this as a decline in human capacities, we might understand it as a transformation in the “knowledge environment”: an environment in which it has become easy to know something, but harder to truly understand it in depth.
Opinion
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By Youssef Mouawad - Published Sep 5, 2026 - 13:25
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In 2010, Israel violently intercepted the Mavi Marmara, a Turkish ship chartered by a humanitarian NGO to bring aid to the Gaza Strip, which was under Israeli blockade at the time. This was the last straw, and the incident brought the simmering hostility between Erdogan's government and the Jewish state out into the open. (AFP)
The war has not yet ceased in our south, and already it threatens to break out among our neighbors. In other words, we live on borrowed time, lurching from one conflict to the next. And for good reason! The bombing of a Syrian base very nearly escalated into an all-out clash between Ankara and Tel Aviv. That was on August 18, and Benjamin Netanyahu didn't mince his words: his country would not tolerate a Turkish military foothold that could spread into southern Syria. The warning was all the more forceful given that eight strikes had targeted the Abu al-Dhuhur air base, just 70 kilometers from the Turkish border. It's worth recalling, too, that since the fall of Bashar al-Assad in December 2024, Erdogan has become the chief mentor of the new Syria under Ahmed al-Sharaa, helping rebuild its armed forces and turning it into a strategic partner. This is no longer Hafez al-Assad's Syria Was it this renewed tension between Ankara and Tel Aviv that prompted a meeting between Syria's top diplomat, Assaad Chaibani, and Mossad chief Roman Gofman, in Jordan on August 23? Yet this quiet parley did not spark outrage across the Arab world the way Anwar al-Sadat's surprise visit to Israel did in 1977. A taboo was officially broken—and indeed, who would have imagined such talks taking place under the Baathist regime? Israel might have been expected to welcome this, but contrary to expectations, it halted neither its airstrikes nor its territorial incursions, as seen on August 27 in Quneitra. The fact is, things have changed. Under Hafez al-Assad, Syria was a regional power that, while not exactly formidable, was feared by its immediate neighbors, Arab or otherwise. No one wanted to pick a fight with it, which allowed it to pursue, within certain limits, an assertive foreign policy that often bordered on provocation. As a result, thanks to the autonomy it exercised and the room to maneuver it granted itself, Syria had become, at least geographically, a buffer zone between an "Erdoganist" Turkey flaunting its unabashed brand of Islam on one side, and Israel, a state Jewish to its core, on the other. But now, in a country worn down by Baathist mismanagement and ravaged by years of civil war, Turkey has begun staking its claims—and will inevitably find itself face to face with an Israel that occupies part of Syrian territory. What can we expect? Given the outsized egos of both Netanyahu and Erdogan, and assuming both leaders remain in power, we should brace for an epic showdown across Syrian, Lebanese, Jordanian, or even other territories. This will be a fight of feints and dodges, of underhanded tactics as well as head-on attacks, close combat, and rising tensions right up to the breaking point. And this despite a September 2025 report from the Congressional Research Service concluding that direct confrontation between Turkey and Israel remains unlikely, precisely because both states are well aware of the cost such a war would entail. Still, in the realm of conflict studies, leaders and other elites don't always act rationally! All the more so since, in the eyes of Israeli observers, the slogan now popular in Anatolia—"Make Turkey great again"—hardly reassures the Zionist state. Washington will find it increasingly difficult to contain or keep apart two adversaries already gearing up for battle. Turkey, the new Iran? Yes, that's one hypothesis, but only in a face-off with Israel, since Syria has overnight become a zone where 'two security perimeters overlap' — the Turkish and the Israeli, the Muslim and the Jewish. And it can't be ruled out that Shiite militancy, that mobilizer of "proxies," might end up allying itself, even if only temporarily, with a 'Muslim Brotherhood version' of political Islam championed by Ankara! So we would have, against all odds, a Hezbollah backed by its former enemy, Ahmad al-Sharaa, an Islamist who emerged from Jabhat al-Nusra and Hayat Tahrir al-Sham! Against a common adversary, a reversal of alliances is always legitimate and opportune. But this would only be a tactical alliance, dictated by the exigencies of the moment, one that couldn't presume anything about the future. With Arab nationalism now out of the picture, Turkey won't settle for economically capturing the Syrian market of 25 million consumers: it will want to wield political influence in Damascus, and to that end will deploy its military and security apparatus. Since the shaky power of the Syrian president can't fulfill certain sovereign functions or oversee the various branches of the state, it will inevitably turn to the expertise of its northern neighbor. Does this mean Turkey will get sucked into the spiral of 'announced belligerence'? Everything points that way, and we can already see the early signs of a spiral reminiscent of the US involvement in Vietnam under Lyndon Johnson. Indeed, if the Syrian state intends to rebuild itself, it will first need an army capable of quelling the centrifugal tendencies of the Alawites, the Druze, and other factions calling for the country's breakup. And it's up to Ankara to provide that and to bolster the central authority based in Damascus. But Israel, which has gotten into bad habits in Syria and intends to keep its freedom of aerial action there, cannot tolerate an army built along NATO lines that could serve as a proxy for a neo-Ottoman venture. And Lebanon, from primary stage to secondary stage? A new stage is now set for a new script that will define new rules of the game! What will become of Hezbollah, caught in a trap? Well, in that scenario, it could benefit, even if only partly, from Damascus's logistical support — support it has sorely lacked since the fall of Bashar al-Assad. And perhaps, through a shift in the tectonic plates, Lebanon would move from being the initial stage to being merely a secondary stage of a regional conflict. But frankly, that would do us a lot of good!
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The Warrior's Shadow
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Hisham Dibsi
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The Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa composed his cinematic epic Kagemusha — The Warrior's Shadow at the turn of the 1980s, to immortalise the story of a courageous warlord who had defied the feudal powers of the sixteenth century. He fell in battle, even though his soldiers had not spared their bodies in protecting him from the enemy's arrows. Yet the command chose to conceal his death and find a double to carry the war forward, and the paradox lay in the fact that this perfect replica was drawn from the dregs of society, a common thief. After the fashion of great filmmakers, whose dazzling spectacle raises questions and dilemmas of unsettling depth, Kurosawa lays bare the fragility of the military edifice, for all its mass and violence, since it suffices that the death of the exceptional commander — the one whose eye does not blink in the face of death — be announced for the whole structure to collapse. He also strips naked the system of political illusion that governs the masses and the soldiery, and perhaps even the most senior officers and the closest members of the inner circle. The tragedy tinged with irony came when the thief-double so completely inhabited the original's skin that he led the army from one loss to the next. At the time of the film's release, a year had passed since the arrival of Imam Khomeini at the helm of power in Iran, and the country had ceased to be an empire ruled by a shah and become a republic placed under the authority of the Supreme Leader. Now that the filmmaker has departed this world, he does not know that the death of the second Supreme Leader, Imam Khamenei, was announced without delay, nor that the Iranian leadership immediately proclaimed the designation of his son, the ailing Mojtaba, as heir to the position. What the two situations share is that the reasons which presided over the choice of the ailing son are precisely those that Kurosawa had addressed in his film, namely the importance of the solidity and cohesion of command and the necessity of ensuring its continuity. Without which collapse might be inevitable. To this is added the very principle of the wilayat al-faqih and the necessity that a standard-bearer always be present, which serves to prevent political collapse while feeding the great illusion that drives millions of followers to continue fighting. Except that the new Guide is, reportedly, injured and unable to address his public by voice and image in order to reassure his devotees. In the time of the director of The Warrior's Shadow, generative artificial intelligence did not yet exist, which might have allowed for the reproduction of an entire persona capable of speaking and moving, rendering the figure of the double superfluous. But the partisans of the new Guide need to see him among them, to hear him harangue them, to shake his hand, to receive his sermons and directives, rather than having to deal only with the commanders of the Revolutionary Guards, who conduct this game solely for the purpose of preserving military cohesion and the survival of the regime. And so people, awaiting the one they hold dear, give everything they have. With Trump The American president has managed to impose his unusual style in the handling of great and small affairs alike, with a disconcerting evenhandedness: he directs his attacks at his Venezuelan, Cuban or Iranian adversary, and in the same breath does not forget to humiliate his aged predecessor Biden, or to threaten a friendly country of the stature of France or the Sultanate of Oman. Trump is today striving to finalise the document of proposals regarding a truce, consolidating the part that can be sold both domestically and abroad, and turning against any clause that would be difficult for him to exploit or defend, should it prove less convincing than what Barack Obama had achieved a decade earlier. One thus witnesses a game of ping-pong between Washington and Tehran over proposals and amendments, a game that serves to prolong the duration of the negotiations and open new avenues for both parties. After his visit to Beijing, which overwhelmed him with ceremony and magnificence, Trump was able to feel the components of Chinese soft power and gauge the limits of American hard power. The impact of the visit on him therefore extends far beyond what was concretely accomplished, which remains modest measured against his ambitions for great and spectacular deals. He perceives now the negative consequences of his relationship with President Putin, particularly on European allies, as well as the combined role played by Moscow and Beijing in preventing the Iranian regime from being defeated or compelled to capitulate easily before the will of the White House. This joint military, security and informational support has provided the Iranian leadership with the means to deploy its accumulated expertise in the art of complex and interlocking negotiations, as was observed last month during the elaboration of the memorandum of understanding and the reordering of priorities, where the weaker negotiator scored important points against the stronger one. Vice President JD Vance failed in his mission and returned to the White House with the conviction that the Iranian was no easy prey, despite his weaknesses and heavy losses. As for the flexibility that Vance had attempted in Pakistan, it could not be defended domestically. Successive initiatives aimed at reformulating a preliminary roadmap had nonetheless convinced Trump to regard it as a new point of departure, capable of being refined and implemented. But the haste with which he committed, combined with the emergence of firm opposition from some Republicans and a majority of Democrats, led Trump to back away from his initial commitments, to turn against the mediators as well, and to unleash a storm of anger against anyone who stood in the way of his pressing desires or failed to respond with the speed he demands. With Trump, it is impossible to trust either the validity of a stated position or its sincerity, and it is precisely this reality that the Iranian leadership internalised in entering the negotiations with a permanent readiness to face reversals at any moment and for any reason. The commanders of the Revolutionary Guards kept in reserve the use of whatever weaponry remains to them for military provocations against American fleets, provocations calibrated to cause no real damage, yet allowing them to claim a posture of courage, while serious retaliation against Gulf countries, so as to inflict genuine harm, is carried out without the slightest hesitation. This reveals the poverty of Iranian military power, and more so still the political illusion that accompanies it, the moment the American target is replaced by the Gulf target. In this Iranian posture, the baseness and cowardice of the Revolutionary Guards become transparent, with none of the courage one might associate with a warrior in the samurai mould. The horizon nonetheless remains open for the elaboration of a new memorandum that might pave the way for an acceptable settlement, with the certainty that the next failure will not lead Trump back to war, a fact from which the Revolutionary Guards intend to profit for as long as possible, since they care little for losses and their only genuine desire is to ensure the regime's continuity and prevent its collapse. Who is the Victor? The narrative of each camp aims to demonstrate its own victory according to differing and carefully tailored criteria, forging new definitions for worn-out words: truce, ceasefire, steadfastness, achievement, survival, losses, manoeuvre. And if the strong party fails to reach the objectives for which it went to war, the weak party sees in that failure a victory of its own, so that resistance in the strait becomes the compensation for every loss, even if substantial concessions are made that genuinely realise one of the strong party's war aims. This is what we witnessed over the past two weeks between Washington and Tehran, and it is liable to continue in various forms with new justifications, until the scene is reduced to a single element: the Revolutionary Guards' control of the strait. The decisive factor of power here lies in the American position and in a military conduct that refrains from the adventure of opening the strait by force, for reasons rooted in the Pentagon's calculations before any other consideration. It is precisely this that supplies the Iranian narrative with the arguments for its claim to power, rather than the drones or missiles it still possesses. The Iranian leadership has also drawn benefit from the convergence of Sino-Russian interests in support of the survival of a regime that serves their interests within the Eurasian axis: Moscow reaps what the Middle East's turbulences bring its way, while Beijing can afford to endure some losses of its own for a while, so long as the maintenance of the regime matters more to it at the heart of Central Asia. As for the third factor of power from which Iran benefits, it resides in the rational and considered strategy of the Arab Gulf states. These have practised a policy of active defence and deployed their political weight, both regionally and internationally, to produce a comprehensive diplomatic solution to the most dangerous international and regional crisis of our time. One may therefore say plainly that the factors of power from which the commanders of the Revolutionary Guards profit are neither theirs by right nor of their making, just as one may say that Washington's strategy and President Trump's mode of leadership have not yet produced what might validate the narrative of the long-awaited American victory. Equally, Israel's strategy, which floats its policies on a sea of blood in the region, particularly in Palestine and Lebanon, has produced nothing but massacres, destruction and annihilation. And there is Netanyahu with his generals, at the height of their fury at Trump, unleashing everything the Israeli army possesses in destructive power in pursuit of a victory, in Gaza, in the West Bank, in Lebanon. It is for this reason that one may affirm, with calm and confidence, and on the basis of a concrete political observation of the course of the negotiations, that the strategy of the Gulf Cooperation Council states and its convergence with the strategies of Egypt, Turkey and Pakistan, as well as their shared capacity to interact directly and effectively with American, Chinese, Russian and European international strategies, have demonstrated their ability to produce an effective mediation that has opened a new course of events and a peaceful horizon toward a solution. They have also succeeded in reducing escalation, in containing Iranian folly and extremism, and in altering the course of policies at the very moment when the triangle of extremism, American-Israeli-Iranian, had reached the outermost limits of violence most hostile to human nature. To re-read the scene from the moment of the first and then the second American-Israeli strikes, and to take the measure of the catastrophes this war has visited upon humanity, beginning with the Iranian, Arab and Muslim peoples, is to understand that the frantic quest for victory will not be found on the side of the murderous triangle of extremism, but on the side of those who raised the banner of opposition to war, endured Iranian treachery, American impulsiveness and Israeli derangement, and persevered tirelessly in their effort to produce a political and diplomatic solution along the path of moderation and principled firmness.

Samir Kassir: Those Absences That Haunt Us

Every year, when the second of June comes around, Samir Kassir rises back into memory as though he had never truly left. The years go by, faces change, circumstances and events follow one upon another, yet there are certain people the passing of time cannot reduce to mere remembrance. They remain present in the details of our lives, in the words we write, in the ideas we defend, in the dreams that never had time to be fulfilled. Twenty-one years have passed since the assassination of Samir Kassir, and I still have the feeling that that ill-fated morning has not really ended. Samir was not, for me, a journalist or a writer or a thinker whose articles and ideas I followed from a distance. He was a friend, an exceptional human being who possessed that rare ability to reconcile profound culture with human simplicity, intellectual boldness with personal warmth. He believed in Lebanon the way a believer believes in his great cause. Lebanon was not for him a political slogan or a media discourse, but a space for freedom, for life, for plurality. He saw beyond the present moment and read the future at a time when many were unable to see even the present. I knew him close to people, despite his intellectual stature. He listened more than he spoke, he engaged in dialogue more than he attacked, and he persuaded through the force of an idea rather than the raising of a voice. Little wonder, then, that he left a deep imprint on everyone who knew him or came near him. When Samir was assassinated, I did not feel only the loss of a great journalist. I had the sense that a part of the Lebanese dream had just been subjected to an attempt on its life. That day, the grief was not only personal but national as well. It was the awareness that the free word had become a target, that men and women of conviction were paying for their courage with their lives. But fate willed that Samir’s flame remain alight through the one who had shared his life, Giselle Khoury. Giselle was far more than Samir’s wife. She was the companion of his intellectual and human journey, the witness to his dreams, his struggles, his victories and his disappointments. After his assassination, she could have withdrawn into her private grief and contented herself with tending to memories. She chose a far more difficult path. She chose to continue what Samir had begun. She carried his name, his cause and his memory with a rare love and an exceptional faithfulness. She did not allow time to fold away his page, she did not allow the assassins to triumph over the idea by killing the one who carried it. She went on speaking of him as though he stood at her side, and went on defending freedom, justice and truth as he himself had done. In Giselle I saw something of Samir, and in her continuity I saw a prolongation of him. She knew that the person departs, but that the message endures. And so she did not commemorate Samir’s memory each year as a simple occasion for sorrow, but transformed it into an act of fidelity and a stubborn affirmation that the word must remain stronger than fear. When Giselle in turn departed, the grief seemed to redouble. As though a beautiful page of Lebanon’s cultural and media history had just been closed. Both were gone, but the story remained. The story of a love that had united two people, each of whom believed in the other as they believed in Lebanon. And the story of a struggle for freedom that does not stop at the limits of a single life. On this twenty-first anniversary of the assassination of Samir Kassir, it is not only the portrait of the great writer and the brilliant thinker that I find within myself. I find the friend, the human being, the face that always carried a deep faith in the ability of the Lebanese to build a better future. And I find Giselle Khoury as well, who proved that faithfulness is not a word one speaks but a path one walks. She kept the trust until the last day of her life and carried the flame that had fallen from Samir’s hands, to pass it on in turn to a new generation that believes in freedom, in sovereignty and in the state. The assassins may have succeeded, on that June morning in 2005, in silencing Samir’s voice. They failed to silence the idea. Great ideas do not die, and the men who sow freedom in the minds of others never truly disappear. Today, twenty-one years on, Samir Kassir remains present among us. In every free word, in every journalist who refuses to yield, in every citizen who dreams of a just state, in every Lebanese person who still believes that this country deserves a better future. The long absence has not extinguished the memory, it has made it more present still. Certain people, whatever distance time places between them and us, remain closer to us than many of those who live at our side. Such was Samir Kassir. Such remained Giselle Khoury. And such will endure the story of freedom and fidelity that united them, alive in the memory of Lebanon for as long as there is anyone left to believe in the free word and in the right of people to dream. Their names will stand as testimony that memory is not a simple return to the past but a resistance to forgetting, and that the freedom they defended draws its strength from those who refuse to relinquish it. Between Samir and Giselle extends the story of a country that is forever searching for itself, and that finds in people like them one more reason to hold fast to hope. People pass, but the true imprint endures, lighting the way for generations to come and bearing witness that Lebanon is built only through freedom, and preserved only through memory.

"No More Mr Nice Guy", or How to Survive Among Predators?

We all see it: the world is becoming increasingly brutal, as if devoid of faith or law. Even if the wars in Ukraine, Israel and Gaza, Syria, Sudan, and Iran are not fundamentally more violent than those of the 20th century, what strikes the observer is the complete lack of inhibition among protagonists in their use of force. None of the actors involved seeks to burden themselves with moral or legal justifications beyond mere formality. This absence of pretense illustrates the predatory logic that now prevails everywhere. It seems that the only question that matters is: how to gain advantage or avoid losing too much with these new rules of the game? As Donald Trump claims with his talent for sensing the zeitgeist: "No more mister nice guy." For European nations, educated in propriety and respect for rules, the shock is severe. How do they adapt to this brutalization? Reject it at the risk of becoming prey and disappearing geopolitically, or join the predators at the risk of losing their soul and disappearing culturally? The Rafale multirole fighter and the Charles-de-Gaulle aircraft carrier give France technological and military autonomy. (AFP) For Europe, this new world takes the form of a difficult awakening that catches it off guard. Since 1945, after three Franco-German wars in three generations, including two world wars and the Holocaust, Europeans, horrified by this self-destruction, had decided in principle to renounce state violence among themselves. They thus completed an intellectual and political evolution initiated three centuries earlier, following the terrifying religious wars that had also devastated the continent for decades. Modern Europe thus rebuilt itself in the middle of the 20th century around a triptych later described as post-historical: the marginalization of religious matters, the delegitimization of nationalism, and the replacement of power relations by norms, law, and the market. The European Union, as a political construct, was the fruit of this evolution. The objective was achieved. Europeans, weary and afflicted by their guilt and sense of failure, succeeded in eradicating civil war on their continent and gradually abandoned the principle of resorting to violence. The fall of the USSR This "principled pacifism" was not, however, self-evident in the decades after the war when the Soviet threat was consolidating in Western Europe. The dilemma was resolved thanks to protection provided by the United States, which, in addition to its economic, industrial, and military power, was not affected by the repulsion toward war that had spread across the Old Continent. On the contrary, the majority of the American population, removed from European troubles, maintained throughout the century the sense of being a dynamic nation, morally intact and convinced of belonging to the side of good, which authorized them to contemplate the use of force without inhibition. This confidence and lack of inhibition were among the driving forces that allowed them to become "the" Western superpower since 1945 and, from the 1990s onward, the global hyperpower with no real competitor. The fall of the USSR reinforced both transatlantic partners in their respective approaches. Europeans, seeing their last threat disappear, convinced themselves that they had definitively entered a new era where state violence would become residual and eventually superfluous. Americans, for their part, saw in it the righteousness of their imperial model and the interest in extending it. Globalization thus became an opportunity for Washington to promote its hegemony founded on commerce, rules, and the American model. This post-Cold War period was, however, marked by a harmful ambiguity. The term 'Western' indeed encompassed two antagonistic visions: the promotion, on one hand, of a universalist and pacifist European model, and the reality, on the other hand, of an international system controlled by a state that was moving away from Europe and had retained a taste for force. Europeans, ill at ease, preferred to let things happen because it was the price of their peace. French isolation during the 2003 Iraq War illustrated this. Outside Europe, resistance to the empire was not long in coming. First, because this indifferentiation of societies creates unstable equilibrium and remains a source of mimetic violence, as René Girard so aptly identified. Second, because the tools of economic and military power have spread everywhere, allowing the 'small' to stand up to the 'great'. Finally, because the American hegemon could not resist the temptation to impose its rule and the defense of its interests by force. Globalization, which was supposed to be integrative and pacifying, thus led to globalized fragmentation and generated revisionist powers, both large and small, everywhere. Return of identities, alternative models, and national interests. Also a return to the use of military force both because the European framework is crumbling and because military capabilities are now dispersed. If this surge in contestation and conflict is a challenge for the United States, they are ready for it because it is a logic they have never abandoned. Europeans are less comfortable with it. They had renounced power dynamics, they disarmed themselves intellectually, materially, and morally even as they are the target of the United States and their competitors from the East and South for whom they represent the ideal target: wealthy, indifferent, idle, old, weak, cowardly, and sanctimonious. Being at the table and not on the menu We Europeans are thus waking up in a world that is not ours. Confronted with antagonism and vulnerability, we are beginning to realize that our neighbors wish us ill and could succeed. What to do? The temptation to go back to sleep, to protest, or to seek a protector exists, but will quickly run up against the misfortunes that befall the vanquished and the subjugated. In the world that is coming, marked by scarcity and predation, defeat and subjugation will bring their share of suffering. This is why we see hardening positions everywhere. Tit for tat, seizing psychological advantage, striking first, threatening devastating retaliation… Many are doing so or preparing to do so in their own way. Europe cannot escape the overhaul of its software for managing international relations; its survival depends on it. It must rearm itself, conceptually, materially, and above all psychologically, to be stronger and more credible, to be at the table and not on the menu. Europe must become a power again, which requires considerable strengthening of the states that compose it, because European strength cannot be created by adding up the weakness of each. France has much to do on this subject. Soft power But once this power is recovered, must Europe become predatory to have weight among predators? It is not in its interest to do so. Europe has long benefited from a strategic advantage tied to the attractive force of its cultural model, which is more peaceful than elsewhere. This singularity is not by accident. It is the fruit of history and its sufferings. Because it has experienced the horrors of war in its very flesh, it has developed a specific approach built on listening, respect, and compromise. This software worked wonders in bringing peace to the continent. It failed elsewhere because it was not backed by sufficient power. While the United States plunges into a vicious cycle of military escalation, 'without mercy and without compassion,' to use the words of its secretary of state for war, following the example of Russian, Israeli, Turkish, Azerbaijani, Iranian leaders, Hamas or Hezbollah, among so many others, there is another path for Europe and for France. The United States announced a dramatic reduction in its military presence in Germany, which hosts the largest American air base in Europe, Ramstein. (AFP) If they decide to re-engage in the game of powers and provide themselves with the means to do so, they could then make heard the credible voice of an 'Old Continent,' to borrow the phrase from Dominique de Villepin that struck a chord during the Iraq War. France and Europe are therefore not forced to choose between pacifism and warmongering. They could combine the power of force—economic, military, and moral—with the power of their model, the famous soft power theorized under the Clinton administration by Joseph Nye, which the United States is turning away from. We must therefore undertake a twofold movement, apparently contradictory. First, we must rebuild genuine power, a hard power, to have weight and be feared. The budgetary and societal efforts this requires mean that, since we live in a democracy, we must secure the support of our populations and thus rebuild cohesion within our political communities, both national and European. This cohesion, which could seem unnecessary in a post-national world without borders managed by the simple market, becomes essential in an era of the return of geopolitics. We must thus rediscover what defines our identities, national and European, identify our interests, recognize those of others, and restore the ability to inspire fear in order to defend just values and causes. Because, and this is the second movement, this recovered power must not cause us to fall back into the suicidal hubris that characterized Europe a century ago and which is returning from all sides. It must accompany the promotion of rejection of blind force, blackmail, and predation, and make the pursuit of peace through just and lasting compromises a goal. Power will give credibility to this strategy, which must combine realism and pacifism. Because Europe will be strong and therefore respected, its reassured population will not be tempted to escalate aggression, and its interlocutors will not interpret its search for peace as a sign of cowardice. Serene and listened to, Europe will be able to initiate and support the development of a new multilateralism for the 21st century, in resonance with the appeal launched by Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney in his Davos speech last January. Amid these predators seeking vassals, there is room for strong and benevolent powers that promote a more just order. Europe and France can contribute to this. They would then live up to their legacy. *Pascal Ausseur is Vice-Admiral of the Squadron (2nd rank), Director General of the "Foundation for Strategic Issues Management" (FMES)

A ceasefire... yes, but what happens next?
By
Tilda Abou Rizk
Published

The image of Israeli flags fluttering over Beaufort Castle is painfully striking. It is as painful as those of villages completely or partially destroyed, or families decimated. It is as violent as videos of desperate Southerners trying to salvage what they can before the next merciless volley of missiles, who risk death to feed herds and pets abandoned by their owners, who cry out their anger, frustration, and despair at a war that nothing could justify. The banners on Beaufort and the unbearable Israeli triumphalism that followed the seizure of this strategic archaeological site hit like a punch. Because they recalled the machinery of pointless wars in which Lebanon has been trapped for decades, caught in a time loop of a bad movie. Many of the actors remain the same. While some may change faces and others are added, the script itself stays the same and repeats endlessly. This vicious cycle, set in motion particularly by the infamous Cairo agreement, has invariably served the interests of regional actors: from Palestinians to Iranians, passing through the sad Assad regime in Syria. The flags planted on Sunday on Beaufort cruelly recalled June 1982, when Lebanese endured the same spectacle: Israeli colors on this majestic site, the direct consequence of others' war on their soil. They acted as an irritating reminder: in 44 years, Lebanon has missed every opportunity to escape foreign influences and build a true state. Even today, despite promises and declarations of good intentions, the state continues the same policy of hesitation while the population desperately yearns to see it bang its fist on the table, say "enough is enough," and adopt a range of concrete political, administrative, and judicial actions that would allow it to reclaim its decision-making power and the monopoly on legitimate violence. Three years after Hezbollah opened a first front in support of the axis to which it belongs, people are still dreaming. Three wasted years searching for a hypothetical adequate formula to impose the monopoly of arms. In the end, this sad picture only reinforces the contradictory feelings that arose facing the horror imposed daily since Hezbollah decided to avenge the death of Iranian Ali Khamenei, when it knew full well what Israeli retaliation to expect. It knew well, after the November 2024 ceasefire agreement, that Israel would turn the south into scorched earth in case of another attack on its territory and would "bring Lebanon back to the stone age." The Lebanese state was not unaware of these intentions. Even journalists had been briefed on the matter to echo Tel Aviv's recurring warnings, transmitted through diplomatic channels to Lebanese authorities and to the leaders of this formation. Lebanese are therefore torn between two contradictory feelings: their hearts bleed for villages that exist now only in the memory of those who built their lives there. But at the same time, they fear the current war will end in anticlimax. That a new ceasefire will plunge Lebanon back into a state of permanent war on hold, of deadly stalemate, and bring it back under Hezbollah's control… That a regional agreement will be reached at the country's expense… That the Hydra that is the mullah regime will survive the agreement being negotiated… Far from geopolitical analyses of the stakes linked to the current regional conflict, they focus on their own future in a country now in tatters. All just to break this time loop. And this is what fuels the dilemma, sometimes guilt-ridden, that they face: their desire to see this horror end as soon as possible clashes with their wish to see Hezbollah completely neutralized, at any cost. Since October 8, 2023, with the opening of the southern front in support of Hamas in its war against Israel, the masks have fallen. The subsequent course of events has shown that the only viable equation for Lebanon's survival is for Hezbollah to cease to exist in its current form. This group's sustained efforts to attribute bellicose and expansionist ambitions to Tel Aviv, in order to justify the nightmare into which it has plunged Lebanon twice in the span of three years, fall far short of concealing its true nature as an executive vassal of the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps and its disregard for the country's interests. As for the intimidation it exercises against its detractors, through threats and accusations of treason, it only further turns the Lebanese against it, while the authorities practice ostrich politics, whose effects only fuel what they claim to want to prevent, by evoking potential internal unrest. For this erasure only deepens internal polarization and widens the gap between a Lebanese minority that wants to keep Lebanon within Iran's sphere and a majority that seeks to break free from it under the leadership of a central authority unfortunately held captive by its fears. Hezbollah's unacceptable threats against authorities who see direct negotiations with Israel as the only lifeline for the country do indeed intensify this group's isolation on the local scene, but they simultaneously confirm the urgency for the State to fully assume its role as regulator of public order and sole holder of decision-making power. This urgency imposed itself because of the policy of procrastination and erasure pursued for a year by those in power. Yet they had committed to the population and the international community to reclaim the monopoly on violence to spare the country further devastating adventures—first with the election of a new president, then again with the formation of Nawaf Salam's government, and a third time following the November 2024 ceasefire. The urgency became inescapable because without it, the Lebanese will remain, against their will, actors in a bad film whose course they cannot change, because of a ruling body that demonstrates daily it lacks both the means and, above all, the courage of its convictions. Nothing that could still happen can be worse than the horror being endured today by thousands of families.

Between Discipline, Silent Resistance, and the Beginnings of Revolt

The publication of two appeals launched by activists in Tyre and Nabatiyeh, addressed to the Lebanese State calling for the protection of these two ancient cities from the Israeli threat to erase them, for the deployment of the army and security forces within them, and for their designation as open, demilitarised cities, constituted the first public and organised act of resistance from within the Shia milieu. A milieu whose voices calling for the overcoming of fear and the raising of dissent have multiplied in recent times, against those who have confiscated its history, its present, and its future in vengeance for Khamenei. These activists were subjected to a campaign of threats, denunciation, and character assassination that led some to withdraw. I had begun writing this article before these two appeals appeared, in an attempt to understand the mechanisms of Hezbollah's control and its capacity for domination, as well as to grasp the silent resistance of this milieu and the dynamics that sustain its hold. Yet if one were to limit one's understanding of power in partisan milieus to the tools of direct repression alone, one would be overlooking its most operative dimension. As Michel Foucault shows, modern power rests not only on prohibition and punishment, but on the production of individuals who monitor themselves and reshape their behaviour in conformity with the norms imposed upon them. This does not mean, however, that domination is ever fully achieved or stabilised. It is precisely here that James Scott's contribution becomes indispensable, illuminating the other face of the matter: even in the most disciplined milieus, resistance does not disappear ; it assumes hidden, quotidian, undeclared forms. This entanglement manifests with particular clarity in Hezbollah's grip over the entire social and cultural space of its milieu. On one hand, there exists an integrated disciplinary system that operates not only through apparatuses or official discourse, but through the milieu's own internalisation of Hezbollah's norms and its reproduction of them. On the other, one can also discern minute daily practices that betray a silent distance between individuals and these norms, a distance that has grown more pronounced since the current war that Hezbollah itself provoked. According to Foucault, surveillance is effective not because it is comprehensive, but because it is internalised. In watching himself, the individual learns to choose his words, to calibrate his tone, to reconsider what might be understood or misunderstood. This self-censorship becomes, over time, a component of his social formation, without any direct intervention from outside. It transforms into something resembling a "second nature", in which compliance appears to be a personal choice rather than the outcome of external pressure. It is precisely here that the paradox Scott illuminates comes into view. For when individuals are compelled to conform in public, this does not mean they concur inwardly. What develops instead is what he calls the "hidden transcript", a set of attitudes and feelings that find no path into public space, yet circulate within narrow circles or surface in indirect forms. In this context, politics is no longer confined to speeches or demonstrations ; it migrates into the details of everyday life. Silence, for instance, is not always a sign of acquiescence ; it can be a strategy of abstention. Allusive language is not a deficiency of expression but a means of avoiding the cost of plain speech. And even the refusal to participate can be read as a political act, rather than an absence of one. What the conjunction of Foucault and Scott offers is an understanding of the relationship between these two levels. For the system that succeeds in producing disciplined individuals is precisely the one that creates the conditions for "resistance by cunning". The higher the cost of expression, the greater the need for oblique forms of refusal. The deeper the surveillance, the more freighted with meaning the silence becomes. In the milieu under examination, under the pressure of war and continuous Israeli escalation, the behaviour of the "support milieu" reveals a profound transformation in the image taking shape in public space, something that far exceeds mere economic decline or social exhaustion. We are witnessing a mutation in the very relationship between people and the political discourse that purports to represent them. It is here that the intertwining of internalisation and resistance becomes visible. An individual may conform to the public discourse, reproduce its vocabulary, display his belonging, while simultaneously maintaining an interior distance. That distance is not declared, but it surfaces at specific moments: in a passing joke, in an ambiguous remark, in a withheld enthusiasm, or in the absence of a response to a call for mobilisation. And this is where the most formidable form of resistance resides, not the kind that announces itself, but the kind that goes unnoticed. This resistance, however, despite its concealment, does not necessarily imply a radical break or rupture with the dominant power. It tends to remain within the limits of the system, adapting to it as much as opposing it. This is what makes it simultaneously a sign of weakness and of strength: weakness, because it does not translate into visible collective action ; strength, because it reveals the limits of domination. Foucault also reminds us that power is damaged not only by direct opposition, but by internal erosion. When compliance becomes purely formal, when obedience is reduced to performance, power loses a measure of its effectiveness. It may succeed in regulating outward behaviour, but it fails to produce genuine conviction. Within this framework, phenomena such as the absence of response to calls for mobilisation, or the spread of indifference, can be understood not as an absence of politics but as a transformation of its forms. People do not take to the streets, but neither do they engage. They do not protest, but they do not respond either. In the end, this dynamic cannot be reduced to a simple opposition between domination and resistance. What we observe is a continuous intertwining of the two, in which power generates its own forms of rejection, and in which resistance adjusts to the conditions of power rather than confronting it head-on. In this grey zone where silence is not consent and abstention is not neutrality, real politics takes shape, far from the declared discourse. This is how one can understand how a milieu that appears, on the surface, disciplined and cohesive, can carry within itself multiple strata of hesitation, detachment, and silent resistance, imperceptible at first glance, yet leaving their mark with time. It is from this vantage point that the failure to respond to Naim Qassem's calls to take to the streets must be read, not as neutrality, but as a form of silent refusal. People do not announce their opposition, but neither do they confer real legitimacy through participation. It is an intermediate state between obedience and rebellion, a state of suspension, of waiting, and perhaps of reassessment. In this sense, what we are witnessing today is a gradual shift from the "support milieu" to the "exhausted milieu". The support milieu responds, mobilises, engages. The exhausted milieu endures, falls silent, but no longer associates itself. This shift, even if partial or incomplete, carries a profound political significance: the erosion of the capacity for mobilisation. As for the two recent appeals that implored Lebanese State intervention and the withdrawal of arms from Tyre and Nabatiyeh, they mark with clarity and courage the beginnings of a breach in the wall of fear within Hezbollah's own milieu.

Iranian conflict: caught between military escalation and fruitless negotiations

The past week was marked by failed attempts to reach an agreement protocol between Washington and Tehran, amid contradictory statements. Between Lebanon and Israel, a clear military escalation was recorded on the ground, accompanied by significant Israeli advances that reportedly crossed the Litani River. The recent days in the Middle East have been characterized by a statement made by U.S. President Donald Trump the previous weekend about the imminent conclusion of an agreement protocol between the United States and Iran, which would pave the way for 60 additional days of negotiations and allow for lifting the blockade on Iranian ports and reopening the Strait of Hormuz. Yet the optimism displayed by the American president on more than one occasion has had no effect: the week ends without any notable progress, and all options remain on the table, including another round of violence. A statement made by an "American official" to Axios on Sunday sums up the situation: There will be an agreement with Iran, but the date of its signing is not yet determined. A major moment this week occurred Friday afternoon, Levant time, when Donald Trump announced he would make his decision regarding the Iran deal following a meeting with his advisors in Washington. In one of his social media posts, he revealed details about the proposed document: an immediate lifting of the blockade in exchange for reopening the Strait of Hormuz, and destruction of Iranian enriched uranium by the Americans under the supervision of the International Atomic Energy Agency. And most importantly, no disbursement of frozen Iranian assets for now. But he emerged from this meeting without announcing a decision that day. The American president repeatedly assured that he would not sign an agreement that does not respect the "red lines" he has defined. For their part, the Iranians repeatedly denied each of Donald Trump's statements, in the form of information provided by sources to Iranian state media outlets (notably those close to the Revolutionary Guards) rather than through official statements. According to these "sources," there is no question of nuclear destruction in the agreement protocol, and the Strait of Hormuz would remain under joint Iranian and Omani control. This prompted an American threat from Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent against the Sultanate of Oman, who brandished the threat of "punitive measures" if the sultanate participates with Iran in collecting passage fees imposed on ships. The Strait of Hormuz thus remains the main sticking point, according to leaked information, just as the question of frozen assets and sanctions that the Americans are unwilling to lift except gradually. After such a week of mixed messages, the protagonists of this seemingly endless theatrical piece appear deadlocked, each on their own side. The American president and his team are facing mounting pressure due to this unpopular war in the United States and its economic consequences from rising fuel prices, yet cannot settle for an agreement that would be perceived as a step back from the pre-war situation (since February 28) and, above all, compared to the nuclear agreement previously signed by former president Barack Obama. In an interview this week, when asked by an American journalist about the pressure of midterm elections on his decisions, Donald Trump assured that democratic deadlines cannot deter him from pursuing his objective of preventing Iran from possessing nuclear weapons. For its part, Iran appears mired in its own internal struggles, and decision-making there seems increasingly difficult, despite recurring statements attributed to Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei, more elusive than ever. The hardline faction of the regime remains capable of blocking any agreement by showing intransigence on certain points, notably the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz. The specter of a new popular uprising triggered by the suffocating economic crisis would not be far from the concerns of the Pasdaran: with the partial restoration of the internet in Iran, videos of major protests are beginning to circulate on accounts of Iranians opposed to the regime abroad, with information about fierce repression being carried out against them. Reports of executions of opponents continue: this week it was revealed that two Kurdish brothers, suspected by the Revolutionary Guards of being part of the "instigators" of the January movement in Iran, were tracked down and killed. On the ground, despite the predominance of the possibility of an agreement, security incidents have not been lacking. On Thursday, explosions were heard in the Iranian port of Bandar Abbas and Iranian missile fire hit vessels attempting to pass through the Strait of Hormuz. Kuwait was targeted by Iranian fire this week, with the Guards claiming to have attacked an American base. But none of these attacks were of a nature to escalate into a large-scale confrontation, although they show how fragile the current truce remains. Israeli Concerns The memorandum of understanding taking shape between Iran and the United States has not overshadowed the Lebanese dimension of the conflict. Indeed, the statements of the two belligerents practically agree on only one point: the extension of the ceasefire on the Iranian front would be accompanied by an effective cessation of hostilities on the Lebanese front, between Israel and Hezbollah. Reports of Israeli concern about halting its operation in southern Lebanon without achieving the goal of dismantling Hezbollah are multiplying in the Israeli press. The Shiite party, for its part, took the opportunity, through its deputies, to criticize the direct negotiations conducted by Lebanese authorities with Israel, and assert that only negotiations with Iran could achieve a genuine ceasefire. Another source of concern for Israelis: in everything that has accompanied the leaks regarding the emerging Iran-US agreement, the two major points absent are Iranian regional influence through its armed wings and the fate of ballistic missiles in Iran. This week, another of these armed wings, Iraqi Hezbollah, announced it does not want to hand over its weapons to the Iraqi state and is seeking to strengthen its military capacity. Beaufort Castle Under Israeli Control On the Lebanese front, this week was marked by a clear advance of the Israeli army in depth. The Israeli army reportedly crossed the Litani toward the north after constructing five military bridges there. The week was further marked by two factors: Lebanese-Israeli military negotiations in Washington and an unprecedented escalation in southern Lebanon and the Bekaa. The talks at the Pentagon late in the week between the two military delegations lasted more than ten hours, and the feedback is not reassuring. In both Israeli and Lebanese press, there is consensus that no breakthrough resulted from these meetings. According to the Lebanese army, it is not possible to make progress without a ceasefire. The Israeli side, based on press analyses, complains that the Lebanese do not hold all the cards. Washington nonetheless called this session "constructive," and talks will continue. The coming week will see a new round of political negotiations in Washington on June 2 and 3. These negotiations are taking place under Israeli fire and Hezbollah escalation, making them extremely difficult. A difficulty underscored on Saturday by Prime Minister Nawaf Salam. While denouncing Israel's systematic destruction of the South, he emphasized that "negotiations remain the least costly path" for Lebanon. On this map produced by the UN, one can clearly see the strategic position of Beaufort Castle, which serves as an observation point on the Lebanese side and even, to the east on the occupied Golan and the "Galilee Panhandle" (UN) The South, meanwhile, is ablaze more than ever. On Sunday, the Israelis announced the capture of the highly strategic Beaufort Castle and are moving toward controlling the Nabatiyé region. This move would cut off all supply lines for Hezbollah militants between the South and the Bekaa, and would reinstate the border strip line as it was before the 2000 withdrawal, but this time without its inhabitants. Evacuation calls "north of Zahrani" in recent days, the latest on Sunday morning, suggest an occupation of much larger territories in the coming days. It should be noted that Civil Defense announced on Sunday its decision to leave the city of Tyre and retreat to Sidon. Hezbollah, for its part, has also increased the intensity of its attacks, resuming the launch of missiles deep into northern Israel. In its statements, it asserts it is waging fierce battles on the ground, particularly around Nabatiyeh. Hezbollah's attacks are apparently forcing the Israelis to take stricter measures in northern Israel, closing schools and beaches and asking a northern hospital to set up an underground center. Israeli Channel 13 cited military sources who say they are "surprised" by the extent of Hezbollah's response, reiterating that maintaining troops in place in Lebanon would be a prerequisite for any further negotiations. This week was also marked by threats to Lebanese heritage, first and foremost Beaufort Castle, directly hit by missiles, a medieval marvel in turmoil. These threats prompted Foreign Minister Joe Rajji and Culture Minister Ghassan Salamé to speak out demanding international protection, particularly regarding the remains of Tyre. Facing this military escalation, French Foreign Ministry chief Jean-Noël Barrot announced Sunday evening that France has decided to call for an urgent UN Security Council meeting to examine developments in Lebanon. This meeting is expected to take place on Monday, according to diplomatic sources. The calls from Tyre and Nabatiyé Another major development this week: a dual appeal by more than a hundred intellectuals from Tyre and as many from Nabatiyé for the demilitarization of these two heritage-rich regions and their placement under the sole authority of the state, for their protection. A "rebellion" that shows a clear shift in mood among the southern population, and one that was therefore very poorly received by Hezbollah. In short, nothing suggests a decrease in tensions in the South in the coming week. On Sunday, Israeli Chief of Staff Eyal Zamir assured that the 'operation in Lebanon is far from over,' not to mention statements favoring escalation by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Defense Minister Israel Katz, who emphasized that the capture of Beaufort Castle is a step within the framework of large-scale military operations that could be launched shortly and might no longer be limited to South Lebanon. The two protagonists on the front appear to be pressed for time, particularly in light of a potential Iran-U.S. agreement. While the Israelis seek to achieve maximum gains on the ground, Hezbollah is trying to hold its position in hopes of a ceasefire.