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Between Furn al-Chebbak and Monot, I managed to see two theatrical performances in the space of a single week. I will not analyze here, nor discuss what I watched. I am not a critic, and what I lived through during those performances is far too personal. But something awoke inside me. A fierce desire to speak, not to judge, but to bear witness. Theater. Light. The direct encounter with the other. The other who reveals himself before me in his body and his voice, in his sweat and his living breath. And I, I go alone, as if between me and the theater there is a romantic appointment. I ready myself for that encounter, I choose my clothes with care, I walk toward it with a lightness that resembles longing, and I sit in the darkness and wait. I the actress, the spectator, I was them between the summer of 2024 and the winter of 2025, when the city trembled, I ran toward the theater, not away from it. During that period, theater became a personal act of resistance, a way of saying that my life had not ended yet, and that fear would not declare its victory over my passion. That day, we were not even certain whether the opening would happen at all. The performance had been postponed to the rhythm of shells that kept falling, and each day carried within it the possibility of another delay, a cancellation, or something worse. And still, I longed for that day. I longed for people to come and sit where dust lay on the black leather seats, for the theater to fill with the breath of bodies rather than silence, for applause to return louder than whatever was happening outside. But I also would not have grieved had that day never come. I told my partner, more than once: “I’d sooner die in rehearsal than die watching the news on the sofa.” And he would always answer, with an unwavering calm: “Yes, go ; that is your place.” Yes, it was “my place.” I preferred to live and to die there, in the warmth of a projector eaten by rust, beneath the ceiling of an old cinema in Bourj Hammoud, rather than let them steal my life while I was still breathing. That stage was my salvation. Had it not existed, neither would I. When some grew afraid, and others grew exhausted and found their salvation in other countries, I found mine there, among the damp wings and the smell of dust, and a curtain hanging that neither closes nor opens, and beneath a chandelier whose light illuminates the universe. There was my breathing space, there we would postpone the collapse… our collapse. We would write texts while the city was being erased, and rearrange scenes while everything outside was falling apart. We would stop at every sudden sound, listen for a few seconds, then return to rehearsal as if repairing the world sentence by sentence. What I gave in that performance had waited twenty years, twenty years of accumulated memory, of words I had hidden inside my texts, of faces that had passed through me and never left, and of a fear I did not know where to place except on that stage, with all the courage I had. Between truth and performance was my game, to speak without quite confessing, to hide behind the character while stripping myself completely bare. I would steal words from my own life, from my disappointments a body language, from my solitude a tone of voice. And the closer the scene came to me, the more the audience applauded, and that applause was… my pulse. Theater was not a luxury. It was neither a hobby nor a space for escape or psychotherapy, but a declaration of existence. A declaration that our bodies had not yet been turned into numbers, and that our voices… still reached. And today, when I sit alone in the darkness and watch an actor come into himself under the light, I feel that someone is surviving again. And I feel that I am meeting myself too, that woman who once ran toward an old theater to survive the world upon a stage.

The condemnation by the United States Mission to the United Nations of the attack carried out by the Polisario Front against the city of Smara, in the Moroccan Sahara, is no trivial event. The American mission deemed that such acts threaten regional stability and undermine the progress made on the path to peace. Equally significant is the American mission’s insistence that the time has come to put an end to this conflict, which has dragged on for nearly fifty years, with a reminder that UN Security Council Resolution 2797 considers Morocco’s autonomy proposal the framework tracing the path toward peace in the Sahara. It is clear that the issue does not actually concern the Polisario itself, but rather an Algerian policy incapable of coming to terms with the reality embodied in Resolution 2797, adopted on 31 October 2025 and recalled by the American mission. In short, what we are witnessing is Algeria’s return to failed bets whose futility has been amply demonstrated in the past. It is worth first establishing the meaning and scope of Resolution 2797, particularly as regards its emphasis on the Moroccan autonomy proposal as the only practical framework for a solution, on the one hand, and its consecration of Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara, on the other. That is precisely what the Algerian regime has been unable to swallow — and above all, that Algeria is an integral part of this conflict, a conflict entirely manufactured by Algiers from the very moment it erupted, in 1975. This conflict broke out with a single and sole objective: to wage a war of attrition against Morocco in retaliation for the success of the Green March, nothing more. The aggression against Smara did not go unnoticed. The American position revealed that Algeria’s actions are under scrutiny and that it can no longer indefinitely conceal itself behind the Polisario. The Algerian game is now exposed, and it amounts to this: exploiting events in Mali to justify a stance that Algeria has defended for many years under the banner of the right of peoples to self-determination. A slogan that is ostensibly just, yet put to questionable use, for want of any capacity to confront reality: the inhabitants of Morocco’s Saharan provinces have expressed their position unequivocally since the return of these territories to the motherland in 1975, and have let no occasion pass without reaffirming their allegiance to Morocco. This Moroccan character of the Sahara has progressively garnered Arab consensus, a near-African consensus, and broad European assent. Several turning points have contributed to this, foremost among them the recognition, some six years ago, during Donald Trump’s first term, of Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara by the United States. Why did Algeria not recall its ambassador from Washington, when it unleashed a furious outcry against France the moment President Emmanuel Macron, in his historic letter to King Mohammed VI, recognised Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara in the summer of 2024? It is no coincidence that new Algerian bets aimed at challenging this Moroccan sovereignty emerged precisely in the wake of events in Mali and the launching, by separatist and extremist forces, of a war against the central government in Bamako. By reactivating the Polisario, Algeria seeks to lend credence to the idea that another separatist movement exists in the Sahel region, aspiring to carve out a place for itself on the political map of the area. Algeria does not realize that events have moved well beyond this type of calculation, and that the Malian government itself had already recognised, on 10 April last, Moroccan sovereignty over the Sahara and the importance of the Moroccan autonomy proposal. The plain fact is that the encouragement of separatist movements in Mali aims, among other objectives, at punishing Bamako for the shift in its position on the Sahara question — a shift that came after Mali had previously played a pivotal role at the African level in supporting Algeria, the Polisario, and the phantom entity of the Sahrawi Republic, proclaimed half a century ago. That proclamation had no other purpose than to justify keeping Sahrawis confined in the Tindouf region of Algeria, in wretched camps, when they could instead be living in their country as free Moroccan citizens, enjoying the full range of their rights and their dignity. To invest in the support of separatist movements in the Sahel is to invest in the encouragement of extremism and terrorism in a region that is in dire need of a wholly different kind of investment — the kind practiced by Morocco, which works to improve the daily lives of every citizen in the areas of health, agriculture, and education above all, while simultaneously striving to promote a tolerant Islam, including by training imams from several African countries and grounding them in sound religious principles. No one is unaware that the Mohammed VI Foundation for African Islamic Scholars, in Rabat, brings together dozens of religious scholars from more than thirty African countries, and that its creation represents a significant step in the fight against extremism and terrorism. Sooner or later, the attacks carried out by the Polisario will rebound against Algeria. Morocco knows how to defend itself, for the simple reason that Moroccan investment is investment in human beings and in development, not in the encouragement and fanning of extremism. Whoever truly desires stability in the Sahel region does not seek to blow up a country like Mali from within, but works to cut off extremism in all its forms. It bears repeating that Algeria, beset by serious domestic problems, cannot decently support separatists when they operate beyond its borders while repressing them when they stir within the country itself.

The past week in the Middle East was marked by maintaining a fragile balance while waiting for a major event in the next one: U.S. President Donald Trump's visit to China. The world's second superpower has yet to have its say in the conflict between its ally and one of its main energy suppliers, Iran, against its primary global rival. In any case, another ally—that of the Americans—once again made headlines: the Israeli prime minister ruled that the 'war is not over' as long as there are 'still nuclear materials—enriched uranium—that must be removed from Iran' and 'enrichment sites to dismantle,' Benjamin Netanyahu told American broadcaster CBS. Meanwhile, direct negotiations between Iran and the United States remain deadlocked. Iran finally announced on Sunday that it had responded to the American plan presented on Friday, aimed at ending the war. State television indicated that the response delivered on Sunday, via Pakistani mediator, was 'focused on ending the war (...) on all fronts, particularly in Lebanon, and on guaranteeing maritime navigation security,' without further details. Internal Iranian divisions were the subject of a notable article in the British newspaper Telegraph, mentioned on Sunday by Arab media. According to the newspaper, the most extreme elements in Tehran, currently representing a minority, are opposed to a peaceful solution. They even accuse Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi of playing a role in the assassination, on February 28 last, of former supreme leader Ali Khamenei, in order to discredit him. In short, growing chaos that would explain the delay in responding to American proposals. In an interview recorded earlier in the week and broadcast on Sunday, Donald Trump estimated that the Iranians were 'defeated militarily,' but suggested that the U.S. military could 'stay for two more weeks and strike all identified targets' to provide a 'finishing touch.' Surprise strikes on Iranian ports In the absence of direct talks, the U.S. military carried out limited surprise strikes against Iran, mainly in the middle of the week. These strikes targeted, among others, the Iranian ports of Qeshm and Bandar Abbas, and were presented as a 'minor skirmish' by Donald Trump. He was quick to clarify that the ceasefire was not over. On Saturday, two Iranian oil tankers attempting to approach ports came under U.S. fire. A way of reminding that the blockade remains in place on Iranian ports. Qatar, Kuwait, and the United Arab Emirates, now recurring targets of Iranian hostilities, were targeted by drones on Sunday. Also in the middle of the week, the American president decided to suspend his 'Project Liberty,' supposed to have the U.S. military escort blocked ships due to the closure of the Strait of Hormuz and those wishing to cross it safely. Escalation and assassination in the South and suburbs In Lebanon, eyes are on the third Lebanese-Israeli meeting in Washington, scheduled for May 14-15, as announced by an anonymous American official whose comments were relayed by media. According to information from local channel MTV, the head of the Lebanese delegation, former ambassador Simon Karam, would already be on his way to the American capital. The main claim from the Lebanese side should be to consolidate a genuine ceasefire and Israeli withdrawal from occupied areas. According to sources cited by Israeli media and relayed by Lebanese media on Saturday evening, 'the talks will focus on the disarmament of Hezbollah, border issues, and a future agreement.' The message, in short, is that there would be no withdrawal without the disarmament of the pro-Iranian group. Twice this week, Secretary of State Marco Rubio accused it of being an 'obstacle' to peace between Israel and Lebanon. Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Saar assured on Saturday that his country has no territorial ambitions in Lebanon, but is trying to prevent 'another October 7.' Hezbollah voices continue to speak out against these negotiations. Once again, it is deputy Hassan Fadlallah who does so, arguing that such negotiations are 'unconstitutional,' and that only 'indirect' negotiations should be pursued. On the ground, the most notable event in the confrontation between Hezbollah and Israel was the assassination of Ahmad Ballout, commander of the militia's elite al-Radwane force, on Wednesday evening in the southern suburbs of Beirut. Not only was this the first time the suburbs were struck since the April 16 ceasefire, but this assassination resurfaced the question of the extent of security breaches within the party that had enabled major Israeli assassinations in 2024. In the south of the country, the population lives in a true nightmare: dozens of new villages forcibly evacuated by a simple call from the spokesman of the Israeli army on X, continuous raids and bombardments, dozens of lives lost. The escalation was not simply reflected in a growing number of raids and missiles, but in a geographical expansion of Israeli operations beyond South Lebanon, even to Mount Lebanon, with two strikes in the Shouf, killing three people. Signs of a widening of the war? For its part, Hezbollah continued its attacks at a very intense pace, increasingly relying on its explosive drones that Israelis are having great difficulty detecting, according to articles in the Hebrew state press. Salam in Damascus It is in this context that Lebanese Prime Minister Nawaf Salam met on Saturday with Syrian President Ahmad al-Chareh, accompanied by a delegation of ministers. Salam clearly explained in his statements that his visit aimed to 'resolve pending issues.' He especially assured that Lebanese authorities would no longer accept attempts to destabilize 'friendly' Arab countries from Lebanese territory. Coincidence? Syrian authorities, who recently dismantled more than one network they say is linked to Hezbollah and working to destabilize the new Damascus regime, declared that same evening that the pro-Iranian group harbors 'criminals from the old regime,' ensuring they want to 'recover those who have Syrian blood on their hands.' The Syrian president also carried out a major cabinet reshuffle that same evening, dismissing several ministers including his own brother, and appointing administrative officials from regions.

In a moment of extreme regional complexity, Lebanon finds itself confronted with an existential question that goes far beyond the daily calculations of politics and the country's traditional fault lines: what does it seek to obtain from any eventual negotiations with Israel, what can it offer, and does it even possess, internally, the capacity to honour whatever commitments might emerge? These questions have long ceased to be theoretical. They are now directly bound up with the fate of the Lebanese state, with the prospect of hundreds of thousands of its citizens returning to their villages, and with the country's ability to emerge from its condition as an "open theatre of war" and accede at last to the rank of an ordinary state, sovereign over its borders and its decisions. The fundamental problem confronting Lebanon today lies not only in the war itself, or in the threat of war, but in the absence of a state capable of imposing a coherent national vision. For many years now, the country has lived under the yoke of a lethal duality: on one side, a formal state possessing its institutions, its constitution and its international legitimacy; on the other, a military and security reality endowed with an autonomous capacity to take sovereign decisions bearing on war and peace. It is precisely this duality that renders any future negotiation so thorny, for the international community does not merely ask what Lebanon wants — it also asks who actually holds the power of decision. In the context of serious negotiations, what would be required of Lebanon is not "gratuitous concessions," as some attempt to frame it, but a clear vision of a state determined to recover its sovereignty and its equilibrium. That begins with the affirmation of a fundamental principle: the exclusive monopoly over decisions of war and peace must rest in the hands of the Lebanese state alone. No state can negotiate in good faith when its security decisions are distributed between official institutions and parallel military forces. Any genuine negotiating process will therefore be inextricably linked to the question of arms outside the state framework — not merely because Israel or the international community raises this file, but because the emergence of a normal state in Lebanon has become impossible without addressing this structural dysfunction. This is where the great dilemma reveals itself. Can the Lebanese army, on its own, resolve this equation? The realistic answer is that the question far exceeds any purely military capacity. The arms file in Lebanon is not a simple security matter capable of being settled by a field decision or an internal confrontation; it is entangled with confessional balances, regional conflicts, the relationship between Hezbollah and Iran, and the open conflict with Israel. Any attempt to impose a solution through internal force risks propelling the country toward a comprehensive explosion threatening the army's own unity and reproducing scenes of civil war whose scars the Lebanese have not ceased to carry. This is not to say the Lebanese army has no role — quite the contrary. The military institution remains the sole national entity capable of serving as guarantor of stability, provided it is given the requisite political umbrella and the necessary capabilities. But it cannot be converted into an instrument of internal confrontation without a unifying political decision and sufficiently broad domestic support. Any serious approach to the arms file therefore requires a progressive national strategy: one that begins by strengthening the state itself, building up the army's capacities, and subordinating any security transition to a wide internal consensus and a broader regional settlement. For reality compels the acknowledgement that the power of Hezbollah derives not only from within Lebanon, but from its membership of a regional axis led by Iran. Any radical change in this file will consequently be conditioned by the future of Iranian-Israeli relations and the nature of the international arrangements taking shape across the region. Reducing the question to the slogan of "disarmament by force" is therefore unrealistic — just as the perpetuation of the status quo is no longer viable for the Lebanese state. There is, moreover, a file of at least equal urgency — perhaps the most pressing for the Lebanese today: that of the South, the displaced, and the ravaged villages. Thousands of Lebanese families are living a continuous uprooting, the consequence of war and border tensions. The question that imposes itself with force is this: can Lebanon, in the framework of any eventual negotiations, extract from Israel guarantees of withdrawal and the return of the displaced? Theoretically, yes. It is legitimate for Lebanon to demand a cessation of military operations, an Israeli withdrawal from any point it occupies, and the safe return of inhabitants to their villages. But the historical experience of the region has amply demonstrated that "promises" alone are insufficient. The Middle East is strewn with fragile agreements and arrangements that have collapsed at the first shift on the ground or in the political landscape. Real guarantees require far more than political declarations or verbal understandings. Should Lebanon engage in a negotiating process, it will need an explicit, written agreement incorporating precise timetables and mechanisms for monitoring and implementation. It will need genuine international sponsorship and guarantees from actors capable of exerting real pressure — the United States, France and the United Nations. The strengthening of UNIFIL's role, or of any other international monitoring mechanism, will be equally indispensable to ensure mutual compliance with a ceasefire and to prevent the rapid collapse of any agreement. But even if security guarantees were to materialise, another battle no less decisive would present itself: reconstruction. Returning does not mean simply reopening the road to the village; it means rebuilding homes, infrastructure, schools, hospitals, and securing the minimum conditions of a normal life. Any serious negotiation must therefore imperatively link the security dimension to a plan of economic support and reconstruction for South Lebanon — failing which, any return would remain illusory and precarious. The difficulty in Lebanon is that a large part of the internal debate is conducted with a mentality of absolute slogans. Some regard any negotiation as capitulation; others imagine that a solution will come through a swift internal confrontation settling everything at once. The reality is infinitely more complex. Lebanon is not, today, in a position to afford great adventures — military or political. The country is in the throes of economic collapse, its institutions are exhausted, and Lebanese society itself is divided, frightened and worn down after years of accumulated crises. Any realistic approach must therefore set out from a fundamental objective: the reconstruction of the Lebanese state itself. The real problem lies not only in the existence of an Israeli threat or an Iranian influence, but in the weakness of the state, which allowed Lebanon to be transformed into an open space for regional conflicts. When the state is failing, all external settlements are temporary and all truces are destined to implode. The greatest challenge facing Lebanon is therefore not simply how to negotiate with Israel, but first how to recover its national decision-making capacity. For the real negotiation does not begin around a table; it begins when the state exercises genuine authority over its territory, its borders and its institutions. Only then can any agreement transform itself from a fragile truce into a lasting stability. Lebanon has no use for slogans of illusory victory, nor for discourses of surrender. What it truly needs is a state project: a state that protects its borders through its army, that prevents its territory from being converted into a platform for others' wars, and that guarantees its people the natural right to security, stability and life. All future negotiations must be measured against this single criterion alone: do they bring Lebanon closer to statehood, or do they return it to the logic of arenas of confrontation, regional axes and endless wars?

Saturday in Lebanon was marked by the visit of Lebanese Prime Minister Nawaf Salam to Damascus, where he was received by Syrian President Ahmad al-Sharaa. This visit is particularly significant in the current circumstances for several reasons: firstly, the outstanding issues between the two countries, such as border security, the resolution of the issue of Syrian prisoners in Lebanon, and others; secondly, the Israeli offensive in southern Lebanon, even as Israeli incursions into southern Syria have taken place in recent months; and finally, the context of the direct negotiations process between Lebanon and Israel, initiated by the Lebanese authorities and sponsored by Washington, within which Lebanon would benefit from expanding its contacts in the region. Not to mention that Syria has recently dismantled, on several occasions, networks that Syrian authorities say are linked to Hezbollah and which, according to them, were working to destabilize the Damascus regime, at a time when Lebanese authorities are struggling to disarm Hezbollah and regain control of Lebanese territory. At the close of his brief visit to Damascus, Nawaf Salam asserted that the visit aimed "to strengthen bilateral relations at all levels," emphasizing that "the talks allowed for the discussion of outstanding issues." In a statement to the press, he specified that the two countries had suffered from mutual interference in the past, that they had turned "a new page," and that he was there to "move relations forward." The Prime Minister specifically mentioned “the common challenges facing Lebanon and Syria within the context of rapid regional developments,” as well as the issues of Syrian prisoners in Lebanon (in accordance with an agreement to return them to Syria, which is currently being implemented), the fate of Lebanese detainees in Syrian prisons of the former regime, whose whereabouts remain unknown, and the fight against smuggling across the borders of both countries. And, of course, the “safe and dignified” return of Syrian refugees to their country. Lebanon hosted nearly two million of them during the Syrian war, and hundreds of thousands remain within its borders. Israeli strikes of rare violence While the Prime Minister was busy “strengthening” relations with the eastern neighbor, the southern one continued to bomb an increasing number of Lebanese towns and villages. Saturday was even more violent and deadly than the days that preceded it. It began with an Israeli call for the evacuation of nine more villages in the south. Israeli strikes continued throughout the day, in the south and in the Bekaa Valley, including in Nabi Chit, resulting in several more deaths and injuries, adding to the already heavy toll of over 2,700 victims since March 2. The most notable strike on Saturday was the one that targeted a car passing through Jahiliyeh, a town in the Chouf Mountains of Mount Lebanon, the first such attack since the start of the war on March 2. Three people in the car were killed. Adding to this the numerous drone strikes that targeted vehicles and buildings outside the border region, in the Sidon area and further north, should we conclude that the Israelis are expanding their offensive in Lebanon? Hezbollah is not to be outdone: on Saturday, it intensified its drone strikes toward northern Israel, particularly targeting military gatherings. These "explosive" drones pose a real challenge for the Israelis because they are difficult to detect, and they injured at least two people in the north of the country: an officer and a soldier, the latter seriously wounded according to the Israeli army. The Iranian response is still pending On the Iranian front, the day was relatively quiet. US President Donald Trump stated Friday evening that he was awaiting an Iranian response to the latest American proposal, which has apparently not yet been given at the time of writing. Is Iranian diplomacy trying to set its own pace, or have the internal divisions within Iran become too significant to produce a clear response to the American proposals? This second option, at least, is the one favored by an American report relayed by the media. A key takeaway this Saturday: the skepticism expressed by Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, who voiced his doubts about the "seriousness of American diplomacy in the ongoing negotiations for a solution to the conflict in the Middle East," citing "multiple ceasefire violations." Exchanges of fire had taken place the previous day in areas near the Strait of Hormuz, still

Since the emergence of the Arab-Israeli conflict, Lebanon has strenuously sought to shield itself from falling entirely into the furnace of open-ended wars, adopting a policy built on two pillars: to be the last Arab State to sign a peace agreement with Israel, and to remain a “supporting State” for the Palestinian cause rather than a “frontline state” bearing the burden of war alone. This approach stemmed from Lebanon’s singular nature — its delicate balances and its political and social composition, which could not absorb protracted conflicts exceeding its capacities and resources. Yet this equilibrium began to shift gradually with the rise of armed Palestinian fedayeen action, as vast areas of South Lebanon transformed into what became known as “Fatahland,” under the aegis of Islamic and leftist forces. Lebanon entered then a new phase of division, particularly as the Assad regime exploited this reality and channelled it to serve its regional projects, turning the country into an open stage for wars and external settlements. Over the years, names and faces changed while the tableau remained the same; the Palestinian organizations departed, replaced by Iranian influence exercised through Hezbollah, and the Syrian role receded in favour of Tehran, which seized control of both political and military decision-making. The fundamental difference, however, lies in the nature of the bond between Iran and the Hezb: it was no longer a mere alliance of interests, but had become a deep doctrinal and organic attachment, making the decoupling of Lebanese decision-making from the Iranian project an extraordinarily complex undertaking. The region is witnessing today major transformations that are redrawing its balances; with President Donald Trump’s return to the White House, the international equations have shifted. Domestically, the election of General Joseph Aoun as President of the Republic and the designation of Dr. Nawaf Salam to form the government have kindled hope for the restoration of State sovereignty after years of collapse and armed hegemony. It is from this context that the project of dialogue with Israel was placed on the table, after Tehran had shut the doors to any solution and pushed the country to the brink of total implosion. It has become clear that the perpetuation of the status quo would mean Lebanon’s definitive and devastating isolation; accordingly, the new authority holds that salvation lies in consolidating State power, concentrating the decision over war and peace in the hands of legitimate institutions, and withdrawing the country from the game of regional axes. This orientation, however, confronts internal obstacles; relations between Speaker of Parliament Nabih Berri and the presidency are traversed by growing tension, with Ain al-Tineh sensing that the negotiating process is bypassing traditional understandings. The Hezbollah’s position appears still more complex since its sovereign decision-making power migrated to the Iranian Revolutionary Guards, which binds any internal dialogue to Tehran’s calculations and its negotiations with Washington. Lebanon’s new authority today affirms its refusal to hitch the country’s future to the train of Iranian-American negotiation, convinced that Lebanon cannot continue to serve as an external “pressure card.” In what could lay the foundation for a new political trajectory, a meeting between Lebanese and Israeli delegations is expected in Washington, constituting a serious attempt to reclaim the status of a “normal State.” Lebanon stands today at a historic crossroads: either a return to the logic of the State, sovereignty, and institutions, or continued captivity to arms and external axes that have bequeathed nothing to the Lebanese but destruction and collapse. Will Lebanon break the shackles of the “arena” to enter the era of the “State”?