Opinion

Before anything else, Sheikh Naim, you must understand that all Lebanese are paying today for your political recklessness, your blind submission to Iran, and your unilateral decisions that dragged Lebanon into wars neither its people nor its State chose or approved. Those who brought the country to this tragic reality and allowed the Israeli occupation to return to parts of Southern Lebanon are not those striving today to save the country. They are those who submitted to Iran’s orders and unilaterally declared war, outside the framework of the State, its institutions, and its sovereign decision-making. Those who threw the South into an open confrontation and exposed the Lebanese people to destruction and displacement are the ones who dragged Lebanon into a war serving the Iranian project, not those who are now working to pull the country out of its crisis and restore its institutions. Those striving to save what remains of the homeland are President General Joseph Aoun and the Prime Minister, who are working to restore the State’s sovereign authority over national decision-making and to pull Lebanon out of the cycle of wars. A clear example is the President’s proposal to place the Ali al-Taher hill under the control of the Lebanese Army, a proposal that you rejected even though it had been accepted by the Israeli side. The question today is not about the strategic importance of the hill, as that is beyond dispute. The real question is why you refuse to hand it over to the Lebanese Army. Is it because it constitutes the highest observation point overlooking vast areas of Southern Lebanon, giving whoever controls it a decisive advantage in surveillance and the direction of fire? Is it because its military infrastructure, fortifications, and tunnel network represent years of strategic investment, making its transfer to the Lebanese Army the loss of one of your most important assets on the battlefield? Or is the real reason that handing it over to the Lebanese Army would, in practice, amount to acknowledging the principle that the State alone should possess arms, and that military decision-making belongs exclusively to the legitimate authorities? Whatever the answer, the paradox remains striking. If the choice is between handing the site over to the Lebanese Army or seeing it destroyed by Israel, how can the Israeli option be regarded as the lesser evil? And how can the destruction of a Lebanese position by the enemy be preferable to placing it under the authority of the Lebanese Army? You should not lose sight of one fundamental fact, Sheikh Naim: you lead an armed militia operating outside the framework of the Lebanese State’s legitimacy. No speech and no campaign of accusations of treason can alter that reality. The State’s exclusive right to bear arms is not merely a political slogan. It is a sovereign and constitutional principle from which there can be no turning back, and it will ultimately be implemented, however long it takes. Finally, the direct negotiations undertaken by the Lebanese State, in accordance with its sovereignty and national interest, are not a concession. They are an instrument for restoring rights and the least costly path toward liberating territory, securing the release of prisoners, and rebuilding what the wars imposed on Lebanon in the service of projects unrelated to the national interest have destroyed.

The war in Ukraine continues to be at the center of a wide-ranging debate, fueled in part by near-daily bombardments targeting key nerve centers on both sides, and more specifically the Russian and Ukrainian capitals. In order to better understand the various dimensions of this long-standing conflict, it is necessary to revisit the background and origins of what led to this (fratricidal?) war—by examining the motivations and aspirations of the different parties involved, including the West (the United States and Europe, extended to all NATO member countries with the exception of Turkey), and by recalling the early stages of the Russian offensive and the failed attempts to achieve peace, or at least negotiations, bearing in mind that responsibility in this context is shared by many. To fully grasp the ins and outs of the various aspects of the war in Ukraine, some fundamental questions should be raised from the outset. What do Russia and Ukraine represent for the West? What could be the concrete consequences of a clear-cut victory by either of the two protagonists? And by the same token, what would the repercussions be for the West and the Middle East? In a series of five articles, Jean-Patrick Dayras , a rear admiral in the French Navy, presents his vision and analysis of the issue. The consequences of the war in Ukraine for the Middle East depend largely on the outcome of the conflict, and more specifically on how it ends (a negotiated agreement, a ceasefire, or a clear military victory). If Ukraine wins For Iran Iran, which has supplied Russia with drones and strengthened its military cooperation with Moscow since 2022, would see its regional partner weakened. This could limit certain technological or military cooperation efforts, though Iran would retain other partners and its own capabilities. For Israel Israel might view a weakened Russia as reducing Russian influence in Syria, but this could create new uncertainties if other actors seek to fill that void. For Syria A Russia less capable of projecting power could reduce its military or financial involvement in Syria, potentially shifting the balance between the Syrian government, Iran, and Turkey. For the Gulf states Countries such as Saudi Arabia or the United Arab Emirates would likely seek to maintain relations with all major powers. A weakened Russia could, however, carry less sway over certain energy or diplomatic matters. If Russia wins Strengthening of the Moscow-Tehran axis A Russian victory would deepen cooperation between Russia and Iran across military, energy, and diplomatic spheres. Syria Russia could be in a position to maintain, or even strengthen, its support for the Syrian government, depending on the resources available to it after the conflict. Israel Israel would need to continue managing Russia's military presence in Syria. It will seek to preserve its coordination mechanisms with Moscow while maintaining its strategic partnership with the United States. Turkey Turkey will in all likelihood continue its balancing act between Russia and Western nations. For several years now, it has demonstrated its ability to cooperate with Moscow on certain issues while remaining a NATO member. Other consequences Energy Regardless of who prevails, the impact on oil and gas markets will depend primarily on: The evolution of sanctions, or the costs and allocation of responsibility for reparations. Production and export capacities. The decisions of the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries and its partners (OPEC+), in which Russia plays a significant role. Near Eastern oil-producing countries will continue to adapt their strategy based on global prices and demand. U.S. Influence A Ukrainian victory could reinforce U.S. credibility with certain regional allies, while a Russian victory could fuel questions about the willingness or ability of the United States to provide sustained support to its allies. However, these perceptions will also depend on other factors, particularly U.S. policy (post-Trump) in the region. It is worth noting that a Russian victory coupled with a favorable deal for Iran would almost certainly reshape alliances and partnerships across the Near and Middle East in profound ways, particularly for all countries in the Arab-Persian Gulf. It is too early to map out every contingency, but one can already sense growing anxieties in various Gulf states that would lead them to reassess their partnerships and their sense of security. A major upheaval is on the horizon! A Region Shaped by Its Own Dynamics It is important to emphasize that the Near East is influenced by many factors that do not directly depend on the war in Ukraine: relations between Iran and Arab states; the Israeli-Palestinian conflict; the situation in Syria; rivalries between regional powers; and energy markets. A Russian or Ukrainian victory would have repercussions on the diplomatic and military balance in the Near East, but it would not by itself determine how the region evolves. The most likely effects would concern Russia's role in Syria, relations with Iran, the strategic calculations of Turkey and the Gulf states, and perceptions of the U.S. role. These consequences would be significant, but they would unfold within a broader set of regional dynamics already in motion. More upheaval ahead! And Africa? Forgotten? All of Africa will be affected by either outcome. The influence of China, India, the UAE, and Turkey, in particular, will be altered to varying degrees — but especially in the event of a Russian defeat. Yet another upheaval in the making… The Winner China, which for the time being is increasingly backing Russia. As long as this war continues, Western attention is diverted away from Asia. Meanwhile, the United States is putting on the sorry spectacle of an already-failed negotiation with Iran. The weapons that would be most needed to defend Taiwan against China are depleted, and it will take at least three years to replenish stocks. The Loser If China wins, the United States can only lose. One fears that someday people will say: 'What changed starting in 2022 was the United States. They stopped mattering.' Looking Back The first missed opportunity lies in the post-Maidan period. Engaging with Russia, allowing it to see the possibilities for Ukraine — and perhaps for itself — to become one or two states associated with Europe, with NATO staying well clear of the negotiations. It would certainly have taken time, but time was not in short supply between 2014 and 2022. What was needed was a discussion among all EU member states and with the British, the defining of a common position, and the adoption of a credible collective stance. No secret talks with the United States, whose track record is far too murky and short-sighted: the abandonment of the Interposition Force in Beirut in 1982 without reaching any resolution, followed by the Italians, while the French were left alone; the withdrawal from Afghanistan without any warning or path to a solution. One can only question American geopolitics, riddled as it is with failures, errors, and outright blunders. This country is driven solely by its economic interests — now more than ever. Throughout history, they have done nothing but make mistakes, with the sole exception of the Kissinger era, and even that was only a brief window. It is, of course, naive to believe this could ever have happened. One must not forget that the former Soviet states joined the EU primarily to gain entry into NATO, and secondly to benefit from the subsidies offered by Europe — funded by European taxpayers. It would have required the Western European countries (France, the Benelux nations, Germany, Italy, Spain, Portugal) and the British to make a once-and-for-all decision not to behave as vassals of the United States — though, naturally, this applies less to France. It would therefore have required France to be strong and resolute enough to bring all these countries on board. That was not the case. This counterfactual could only have become reality under a de Gaulle, perhaps a Pompidou, a Mitterrand, or a Chirac — not the others. It would have demanded a long-term, very long-term strategic and geopolitical vision from the heads of state of the aforementioned countries. It therefore had no real chance of coming to fruition. Yet it would have been good — even excellent — for peace, and for the economic and military power of the European Union, while preserving the sovereignty of each of its members, with genuine security guarantees. The second counterfactual could have come about if the heads of state and government of the European Union and the British had committed to a role of cooperation and facilitation, enabling Turkey to broker a peace acceptable to both belligerent nations and securing their shared interests. The Europeans lacked the courage and the foresight the situation demanded, and they allowed Boris Johnson — most likely acting on instructions from the United States — to torpedo the early stages of a peace agreement. All these heads of state and government bear responsibility for the millions of dead, wounded, missing, bereaved families, and shattered lives. Who will tell the people this before they cast their next vote? The future of Europe as a community of sovereign nations lay with Russia and, of course, Ukraine — but certainly not with Ukraine to the exclusion of Russia. Ultimately, was this war really ours to fight? There are so many wars that go unnoticed — so many conflicts that are none of our business. Was this one more ours than the others? On what grounds? Because a handful of 'thinkers' dislike Putin? There are plenty of heads of state who deserve to be disliked. Should we therefore go to war with all of them? These brilliant 'thinkers' would do well to remember our stance on Kosovo and what followed. That story is not over. Nor is the one concerning the Russia-Ukraine conflict.

One could almost believe that Lebanon has lived only according to the rhythm of foreign capitals: there was the Egyptian era under Nasser, the Palestinian era under the PLO, the Syrian era under the republican dynasty of the Assads, and, of course, the Iranian era, when Hezbollah took control through intermediaries. What makes the Lebanese experience particularly distinctive is that whenever the influence of one Arab or foreign regime began to fade or disappear, another quickly stepped in to replace it. As though it were only natural, since nature abhors a vacuum and our politicians have never wished to renounce servitude. A Fate and a Curse From one period to the next, the degree of constraint varied, for there is naturally a difference—not merely in degree but in nature—between military occupation or political subjugation on the one hand and simple diplomatic coordination on the other. The balance can tilt upward or downward depending on circumstances, unforeseen events and the unpredictable. Yet beyond these changing situations, one fact remains undeniable: our small country has had—and will unfortunately continue—to adapt to uncomfortable realities and bend to the wishes of states larger and more powerful than itself. "Finlandized" by the combined weight of history and geography, could Lebanon realistically aspire to anything more ambitious than the status of a client state or a satellite state? That being said, let us imagine that time were to stand still and grant us, if only briefly, a respite from this far-from-fraternal foreign entanglement. Suppose Abdel Halim Khaddam had lost interest in our fate and allowed us a moment's breathing space. What would have become of us, poor souls, and what would we have done? Our political elites would almost certainly have rushed, by sheer atavistic reflex, to another Arab or Western capital to beg for immediate intervention, financial assistance or even military support. They would have accepted every form of subordination that might enable them to settle scores with their local—or even municipal—rivals. In this game, no one was innocent: neither the party that sought assistance nor the one that provided it; neither the benefactor nor the beneficiary. Abdel Hamid Ghaleb: A Reminder A country's sovereignty can be measured by its willingness to expel an ambassador. On July 21, 1958, The New York Times reported that Abdel Hamid Ghaleb, ambassador of the United Arab Republic accredited to Beirut, had been declared persona non grata and ordered to leave Lebanon. He was accused of fomenting rebellion and supplying arms to the opposition against President Camille Chamoun's government.(1) Indeed, Ghaleb had encouraged insurrection and civil disobedience throughout various parts of the country. Order was restored only after the landing of U.S. Marines and the election of General Fouad Chehab on July 31. The controversial ambassador did not resume his duties until early November of that same year,(2) after the new authorities embarked on a policy of genuine cooperation with the all-powerful Nasser. Abdel Hamid Ghaleb normalized relations between Beirut and Cairo and strengthened Egypt's influence over Lebanese political life, prompting renewed accusations of direct interference in Lebanon's internal affairs. While remaining firmly within the Western orbit, Beirut nonetheless accommodated Nasser's regional interests. Following Nasser's defeat in 1967 and his disappearance from the political scene in 1970, Lebanon moved from bad to worse. The years that followed became years of sorrow and suffering, during which the armed Palestinian resistance, the Syrian occupation and later Iranian domination each, in turn, violated Lebanon's sovereignty on a daily basis. Thus, in absolute terms and for a very long time, Lebanon has been neither free, nor independent, nor sovereign, even if life in Beirut remained preferable to life in Damascus or Baghdad, where the Baath Party ruled in all its splendor, or in Tehran and Isfahan, where the mullahs could comfortably bask under the umbrella of Wilayat al-Faqih . Will the Syrian Replace the Iranian? It is generally accepted that a country is sovereign only if it is capable of slamming the door in the face of a foreign ambassador. In that respect, one could argue that the Aoun–Salam leadership asserted itself by "throwing out the window" the envoy of the Islamic Republic—that is, by withdrawing the accreditation of Mohammad Reza Shibani, the head of Iran's diplomatic mission. But has anyone ever asked who is supposed to replace him? Distancing Lebanon from the Islamic Republic is certainly commendable, but who is expected to fill the vacuum it leaves behind? The welcome extended to the Syrian foreign minister in the city of Tripoli leaves room for doubt. Has Lebanon's Sunni community, after years of wandering, finally found a patron worthy of its expectations? Some believe so. The problem is that Ahmad al-Sharaa has other priorities, foremost among them consolidating his authority in Damascus and across his fragmented country. It would be unwise for him to succumb to the temptation of opening a new Lebanese front. Even with Ankara's backing, he simply lacks the means to pursue an ambitious regional policy. Let us find another solution! (1) Sam Pope, "Envoy from Cairo Ousted by Beirut; Lebanese Say He Had Been Plotting with Rebels," The New York Times, July 21, 1958. (2) Le Monde, "The UAR Ambassador to Lebanon Resumes His Duties," November 6, 1958.

By Antoine Menassa* A few days ago, the Beirut Indictment Chamber issued a dismissal ruling in favor of former Banque du Liban Governor Riad Salamé, in the case stemming from a complaint filed in June 2021 by businessman Talal Abou-Ghazaleh. The complainant had accused Salamé of issuing circulars that altered the liberal economic system, concealing the true state of the banks' finances, and conspiring with those banks to misappropriate depositors' funds. In its decision handed down on July 14, 2026, the Indictment Chamber found that the constituent elements of the alleged offense had not been established. Applying the principles of criminal law with impartiality and independence, it placed the case back within its strictly legal framework and brought the proceedings against the former Governor to a close. This decision has been welcomed as an illustration of the role of justice, which must be guided not by public sentiment or pressure, but solely by the law and the evidence. It also reflects the ability of the Lebanese judiciary, despite the crises gripping the country, to uphold the rule of law and the fundamental principles of justice. Beyond the specifics of this case, the decision averts the risk of a legal precedent that could have led to property-related offenses — such as theft, breach of trust, embezzlement, or fraud — being equated with constitutional violations, without any legal basis and in contradiction with the essential principles of criminal law. In legal terms, a dismissal ruling is neither an emotional exoneration nor a political statement. It is a judicial decision that ends proceedings when evidence is insufficient or when the legal elements of an offense have not been established. It represents one of the fundamental guarantees of a modern justice system. The media coverage of this case, however, raises serious questions. In 2021, when the accusations were made public, they received massive media attention. Television channels, newspapers, and news websites widely reported the story, generating countless headlines and fueling a debate that frequently led to Riad Salamé being prematurely condemned. Many seemed to forget that the presumption of innocence is a fundamental principle, one that can only be overturned by a final judicial ruling. Now that the courts have issued a dismissal for lack of constituent elements of the offense, the media response appears far more muted. It is as though decisions that restore the facts generate less interest than the accusations themselves. This contrast raises questions about the role of the media. Some outlets gave extensive coverage to the accusations, yet afforded far less visibility to the judicial ruling that dismissed them — as if news only acquires value through scandal, while court decisions that restore rights are pushed to the sidelines. Yet justice is not measured by the intensity of accusations, but by the strength of evidence and adherence to the rule of law. The Beirut Indictment Chamber's decision is a reminder that the primacy of law must always prevail over rumor, and that a person's dignity cannot be sacrificed by media verdicts rendered before those of the courts. One question ultimately remains: to what extent can a person reclaim their reputation after being cleared, when the media's condemnation has already left a lasting mark on public opinion? Justice only fulfills its true purpose if dismissal and acquittal decisions receive coverage comparable to that given to accusations. For the truth deserves as much attention as suspicion, and fairness as much focus as scandal. *Founding President of the Association of Lebanese Business People in France (HALFA)

When we have been driven back by enemy fire; when the adversary has stormed our cities, razed so many towns and villages, and forced our fellow citizens from their homes; when it has demonstrated that it can keep advancing until it encircles our capital; and above all when, weary of war, those who clamored for battle finally pleaded for a ceasefire, it stands to reason that, at the negotiating table, one cannot afford to be overly fastidious and may have to compromise on certain principles, such as national sovereignty and territorial integrity. Defeated France had to cede Alsace-Lorraine to the Kaiser's Empire in 1871; likewise, Germany, upon signing the Treaty of Versailles in 1919, was compelled to accept, among other humiliating terms, the demilitarization of the Rhineland and the reduction of its army to one hundred thousand men. Has Hezbollah won a resounding victory over Israel? Not that I am aware of. There is little point in swaggering merely to buy time, or in sacrificing oneself in a futile rearguard action simply to strengthen Iran's hand in its negotiations with Washington. More than four thousand Lebanese have already given their lives to provide Tehran with greater diplomatic leverage. The facts are undeniable: we have suffered a severe military defeat, and Lebanese of every political persuasion must acknowledge it and draw the necessary conclusions. Had our forces captured Metula, Nahariya, or Haifa, had they advanced far enough to threaten Dimona, then I would readily believe that we could have imposed our terms on Israel. That would have been perfectly logical: if the enemy wished to recover its territorial integrity, it would have had to relinquish certain attributes of its sovereignty. But that is not what happened. Quite the opposite. To accuse the Lebanese delegation of seeking to liberate Lebanese territory in exchange for the disarmament of the pro-Iranian Hezbollah* is therefore nothing more than reckless one-upmanship. Profitable One-Upmanship... Yet So Pernicious Passion can cloud even the soundest minds. Hence the reactions of certain "research associates" and political commentators—these self-appointed champions of territorial integrity—when the framework agreement was announced in Washington on June 26*. These latter-day sovereigntists accuse the Lebanese state of capitulation. Like Caiaphas during Holy Week, they rend their garments and cry "treason!" Yet this outcry conceals a rather sordid game that does little credit to those who claim the mantle of patriotism. If the Shiite tandem and those within its orbit seek to torpedo the trilateral agreement, it is because they want to place the Lebanese file in Tehran's hands and fold it into a broader negotiation—one that would be conducted by the belligerents of the Persian Gulf, whether in Islamabad or somewhere in Switzerland. And, in the height of cynicism, the critics of the June 26 agreement claim that their only concern is to defend national sovereignty and its supposedly inviolable principles. Let Us Take Abu Ammar as Our Example For Hafez al-Assad, beginning in the 1970s, the primary target was not the Lebanese Christian who defied his rule, but the Palestinian. The PLO was the first enemy to be crushed, long before the Lebanese Front or the Lebanese Forces. In the grand geopolitical reshaping of the Levant, should an international conference ever be convened to settle the Arab-Israeli conflict, the tyrant of Damascus was determined that the "Palestinian card" should never escape his grasp. In his eyes, the Palestinians were merely Southern Syrians, and it was for him alone to decide their fate. Yasser Arafat, however, intended to remain master of his own cause. He played a prolonged game of cat and mouse with the autocrat on the banks of the Barada. Tossed from one country to another—from Jordan to Lebanon and finally Tunisia—Abu Ammar refused to surrender his prerogatives. In the end, it was he who signed the Oslo Accords on behalf of his people. He was not about to allow a coup-born officer from Qardaha, whose legitimacy was dubious at best, to represent his nation of exiles. Shall We Surrender the "Lebanese Card"? We Lebanese now face much the same predicament. Shall we hand over the Lebanese card to Iran in order to strengthen its bargaining power in negotiations with Donald Trump? Which course better serves our sovereignty: confronting Israel directly in Washington or Rome, or gratuitously entrusting that card to the empire of the mullahs, which some insist would defend our national interests more effectively than we ourselves can? Let us remember that with the fall of the Assad father-and-son regime, fortune briefly smiled upon us, allowing Lebanon quietly to reclaim the card that Damascus had long confiscated. And now an Iranian-controlled militia, with astonishing brazenness, seeks to assign us to Tehran and reduce Lebanon to a mere agenda item in negotiations conducted exclusively between Iran and the United States. The Lebanese card is not meant to be surrendered, nor to be endorsed at the command of a patron from the Gulf of the Achaemenids. And, if truth be told, the Lebanese card has never brought good fortune to freebooters. *Let us recall that the framework agreement signed on June 26 by Lebanon, Israel, and the United States has as its ultimate objective the liberation of Lebanese territory from every form of occupation, whether Israeli or Iranian. Is it to be condemned simply because it proceeds in stages? Let us see what emerges from the forthcoming talks in Rome, where the delegations are meeting.

The Middle East is undergoing unprecedented transformations that are reshaping the region’s security and power landscape. After years of open wars and proxy conflicts, the region is gradually moving toward a new approach built on strengthening the nation-state, reducing the influence of non-state armed organizations, and rebuilding military and security institutions as the sole guarantor of stability. Against this backdrop, Lebanon has a rare opportunity to rethink its defense architecture in a manner that reflects these regional changes while safeguarding its national interests. Over the decades, Hezbollah has accumulated advanced military and technological expertise in command, intelligence, drones, electronic warfare, communications, and logistics. This expertise represents valuable human capital that should not be allowed to go to waste. Instead, within the framework of the state’s legitimate authority, it should be integrated into the Lebanese Armed Forces and the country’s security institutions, thereby strengthening state sovereignty instead of perpetuating divided authority over national security. International experience, from South Africa to Colombia, has consistently shown that ending conflict does not require excluding former fighters or discarding their expertise. Rather, it depends on reintegrating them into state institutions under clear professional and legal standards. The success of any transition ultimately rests on the state’s ability to absorb these capabilities while firmly establishing its exclusive monopoly over the use of force and over the authority to decide on war and peace. The transformations now reshaping the region, together with the new economic and security priorities they impose, make it imperative for Lebanon to launch a national dialogue on a comprehensive defense strategy. This should be accompanied by a plan to modernize the Lebanese Armed Forces, establish a National Center for Defense Innovation and Cybersecurity, and capitalize on Lebanese expertise in advanced technologies and cutting-edge defense industries. The new equation is no longer based on multiple centers of power, but on a state strengthened by its institutions, capable of protecting its borders, earning the confidence of the international community, and attracting investment. The present moment is not one for settling scores, but for building a new national compact that places every talent and every area of expertise at the service of the Republic. States do not recover because one faction prevails over another. They recover when the state itself becomes the only victor, and when arms, sovereign decision-making, and sovereignty itself are brought entirely under the authority of constitutional institutions. Only then can Lebanon open the way toward stability and prosperity in a Middle East that is changing at remarkable speed.

There is a logic that reappears every time the question of Hezbollah’s weapons is raised. It tries to present the party not as an armed authority that has confiscated the decision of a sect and a country, but as the natural extension of Lebanon’s Shiite community — as though objecting to Hezbollah were an objection to Shiites themselves, and as though disarming it meant uprooting an entire community from its history, memory, and means of protection. This logic is not only wrong. It is insulting. It reduces Shiites to their fear. It turns their long history into a prelude to a rifle. It treats an entire community as though it cannot exist except inside the network of an armed party — as though Jabal Amel, Najaf, jurisprudence, reform, scholars, intellectuals, farmers, students, merchants, and all the Lebanese Shiite national experiences were nothing more than a preparation for Wilayat al-Faqih. The truth is that Shiites did not begin with Hezbollah, and they will not end with it. Before the party, there was a full history of knowledge, politics, society, moderation, representation, and demands for justice. There was Sayyed Mohsen al-Amin, Imam Musa al-Sadr, Sayyed Mohammad Mahdi Shamseddine, Sayyed Hani Fahs. There was a Lebanese Shiite discourse that understood the meaning of the state, the meaning of partnership, and the meaning of dignity — a dignity that cannot be reduced to weapons outside institutions, cannot be measured by the number of rockets, and cannot be sold in the marketplace of regional axes. Hezbollah benefited from fear, from the Israeli occupation, from the absence of the state, from long-standing marginalization, and from real wounds inflicted on the South, the Bekaa, and the southern suburbs. But benefiting from a wound does not give anyone the right to own the body. What may have begun, at a certain moment, as an answer to fear gradually became a permanent system for fabricating fear. The party tells people: I protect you from danger. Then it makes its own existence a permanent reason for summoning danger. It says it protects the South, then turns the South into an open battlefield. It says it protects Shiites, then makes them pay the price of its wars, sanctions, alliances, and decisions in which they have no say. As for the talk of hospitals, schools, loans, salaries, and services, it does not prove the legitimacy of the weapons. It exposes the scale of the catastrophe. When a citizen needs a party in order to be born, to learn, to receive treatment, to borrow money, to work, and to bury his martyr, this is not a supportive environment as much as it is a structure of social captivity. Services do not grant the right to declare war. Assistance does not justify the confiscation of decision-making. A monthly salary does not turn a family into a false witness for the legitimacy of arms. Mafias also provide protection. Totalitarian regimes also distribute bread. Gangs also know how to make people dependent on them. But the question is not what such a power gives. The question is what it takes. And Hezbollah has taken far more than it has given. It has taken the decision of war and peace. It has taken the right to dissent inside the Shiite community. It has taken the image of Shiites in Lebanon and the Arab world. It has taken religion and turned it into a mobilization machine. It has taken martyrdom and turned it into political capital. It has taken fear and transformed it into a long-term contract of submission. The most dangerous thing Hezbollah has done is that it tied the fate of Shiites to its own fate. It made any pressure on it appear as pressure on them, any criticism of it appears as an insult to them, and any attempt to disarm it appear as a threat to their very existence. This is not social genius. It is calculated political blackmail. When the party places a hospital, a school, a loan, a salary, a martyr, and a rocket in the same chain, it is not building a normal society. It is building a large cage — a cage with many service doors, but one that does not allow free political exit. Shiites have every right to ask: Who will protect us? This is a legitimate question. It is a question that must not be dismissed, because the Lebanese state has failed them, as it has failed others, and because the South has paid a heavy price in occupation, wars, and destruction. But a legitimate question must not be turned into an eternal answer in favor of a militia. “Who will protect us?” does not mean that weapons must remain forever outside the state. It does not mean that the decision of a community and a country should remain in the hands of an organization tied to a regional project. It does not mean that people should be forced to choose between the party and annihilation, between the state and slaughter, between Lebanon and Iran. Protection is not achieved by making fear permanent. Protection is achieved through a capable state, one army, one decision, borders that are not controlled by an organization, and a foreign policy that is not run from the southern suburbs or from Tehran. Protection means returning Shiites to the state, not convincing them that the state is impossible and that the party is their only destiny. Those who say that the failure of the state justifies the survival of the militia are like those who say that the failure of a doctor justifies handing the patient over to a charlatan forever. The memory used to justify the weapons is also an incomplete memory. Yes, there is 1978, 1982, the Israeli occupation, and official abandonment. But there is another memory too: the wars at home, the suppression of independent Shiite voices, the accusations of treason against dissenters, the dragging of Lebanon into the 2006 war, the sending of young men to Syria, Iraq, and Yemen, the transformation of the South into a platform in a conflict its people do not decide, and the forcing of people to call defeat victory and ruin steadfastness. No one has the right to speak in the name of Shiite memory while erasing from that memory everything the party has done to Shiites themselves. No one has the right to invoke the images of Israeli occupation in order to prevent questions about the party’s occupation of political decision-making. And no one has the right to turn old fear into a title deed over the future. Shiites are bigger than Hezbollah. The South and its villages are not a storage site for Iran’s rockets. The southern suburbs are not a barracks. The Bekaa is not a military corridor. Martyrdom is not a blank check in the hands of a party. Religion is not a party card. Deprivation is not an eternal license to confiscate the state. Memory is not a prison. Fear is not an identity. What is required is not to leave Shiites without protection, but to liberate them from a false equation that tells them their protection can only come from the force that has confiscated their decision. What is required is not to ignore their wounds, but to prevent the trading of these wounds. What is required is not to deny that the state has failed, but to reject the transformation of that failure into a permanent mandate for an armed party. A state is built when it is reclaimed from militias, not when what remains of it is handed over to them. The worst kind of defense of Shiites is the one that presents them as a community trapped inside a single fate, with no future except weapons, no security except the party, and no dignity except in a project whose decision they do not own. This defense may appear, on the surface, to be sympathy. In essence, it is erasure. It does not see the Shiite as a free citizen, but as a frightened dependent who needs an armed guardian to explain to him the meaning of survival. The truth is simpler than all this rhetoric: Hezbollah no longer protects Shiites from danger. It has become the danger from which it asks them to fear everything except itself. And when protection becomes captivity, when victimhood becomes trade, and when weapons become destiny, the duty of speech is not to ask how to preserve this system, but how to liberate people from it. A community that produced scholars, reformers, resistance figures, thinkers, and citizens must not be reduced to an organization, especially one that has failed morally before it ever did politically. People who paid the price of occupation, wars, and abandonment must not be asked to pay new prices so that the party may remain above the state. Anyone who truly wants to do justice to Shiites should begin by recognizing that they belong to no one — not to a party, not to an axis, and not to a Supreme Leader. Shiites are Lebanese citizens. Their protection lies in a state that protects them, not in a militia that uses their fear. And their future lies in Lebanon, not in waiting for another war decided by others and paid for by them.

“Land in exchange for peace.” That, in essence, is the Israeli-Lebanese agreement reached in Washington between June 23 and 26 – an old formula that remains as relevant today as ever, provided the interests of the people of Lebanon’s devastated villages are placed above all else. The rest is detail. Yes, land in exchange for peace – but not just any peace. A peace achieved through placing all weapons in the hands of the Lebanese state as we know it: a parliamentary democracy, a land of freedom and pluralism. It could also be put this way: land in exchange for Hezbollah’s weapons. For contrary to what people think, the Washington agreement is a peace agreement, not a military one. It could be implemented without a single shot being fired. Hezbollah has spoken of “civil war.” But who wants a civil war? The Washington agreement would allow Hezbollah’s severely weakened forces to be replaced by legitimate, multi-sectarian state forces whose sole mission would be defensive, not offensive. Lebanon has no territorial ambitions in Israel. All it seeks and demands is respect for its borders, as clearly set out in the Washington agreement. And only there. However, Iran was able to secure a ceasefire – albeit a relative one – in Lebanon by unleashing a barrage of ballistic missiles against Israel. Yet it is unrealistic, given the forces at play, to believe that Tehran could also obtain, through threats, a full Israeli withdrawal from Lebanon. The only outcome this dynamic could produce is a further toll of death and destruction, coupled with a risk of annexation. In short: a war of a thousand years. A capitulation agreement? Yes, in the narrow sense of the term. For the peace agreement it imposes is, at its core, as much a Lebanese demand as an Israeli one. The military escalation it brings to an end took place against the will of the Lebanese state, as a result of an Iranian decision to which Beirut was deeply opposed. Moreover, what unnecessary restrictions could it impose on Lebanon? That it forgo nuclear capability? Or having no air force? Those who designed the Washington agreement not only sought no war, but were also deeply opposed to the militaristic ideology driving Hezbollah. That ideology gave the group the illusion of waging a heroic jihad in the service of God. Yet, as has been seen, this struggle has led to slaughter and potentially irreversible destruction. Moreover, how could Hezbollah have imagined, for a single moment, that its politico-religious ideology could win over Christians – let alone the other communities that make up Lebanon? Lebanon belongs to the Arab world, not the Islamic world. Alien to Iranian ideology, peace with Israel is not foreign to the Arab world, part of which has already concluded such peace, while the rest – Saudi Arabia in particular – ties it to the emergence of a Palestinian state. The Christian community is all the more alien to this way of thinking given that it has itself paid the price for this kind of adventurism during the Crusades. It can be stated without hesitation that the right to self-defense remains sacred, but the Catholic Church has called into question the notion of “just war,” once endorsed by the Church, given the impossibility of meeting its conditions in an age of algorithms, autonomous machines, and nuclear deterrence. Today, there are no longer any “conventional” weapons. We are all familiar with Einstein’s off-cited quip about nuclear war. A campaigner for nuclear disarmament, he is said to have remarked that if a Third World War were to break out, “the Fourth would be fought with sticks and stones.” On the contrary, Eastern Christian communities, which have paid dearly for the dispossession of Palestine, now aspire to exercise their rights of access to their holy sites: Jerusalem, Nazareth, Bethlehem – places where their Savior lived and rose again, triumphant over death and violence. It is in this sense that they may hope to take up the word left to them by their Savior: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” The earth does not belong to the violent, says the Lord. It belongs to those who, like Joseph Aoun, have learned from war to “hate war.” We heard him speak in this sense during his interview with Christiane Amanpour on CNN. The head of state would do well to set aside airtime to explain the Washington agreement to the Lebanese population.

At every decisive moment in Lebanon’s history, the same rhetoric resurfaces: threats to bring down the government, warnings of yet another collapse, and an escalating political confrontation. Yet the question is no longer whether Nabih Berri can topple the government. The real question has become far simpler: what comes next? What is the alternative? What vision does he offer for Lebanon? And how is the country expected to emerge from its crisis if it once again slips into the vicious cycle of political and institutional paralysis? If opposition to the framework agreement genuinely stems from a desire to defend Lebanon’s sovereignty, then those who reject it should put forward a clear, realistic and workable alternative. Simply calling for the government’s downfall without presenting the slightest roadmap offers the Lebanese nothing but deeper uncertainty. But the more fundamental question lies elsewhere: is the government really the problem? If, according to this reasoning, the government has lost its political legitimacy, what about the Parliament from which it derives that legitimacy? If the solution is to bring down the executive branch, why should those advancing this argument not carry it through to its logical conclusion by calling for the dissolution of Parliament as well and returning to the people through early parliamentary elections? The issue then becomes even more uncomfortable. Can Nabih Berri guarantee that he would be returned as Speaker of Parliament if new elections were held? Can the Shiite duo guarantee that the current political balance within Parliament would remain intact? If the answer is uncertain, the Lebanese are entitled to ask whether the real objective is to save Lebanon or simply to preserve a political balance that has remained in place for years. Democracy cannot be practiced selectively. Anyone demanding a change of government should also be prepared to accept a complete reconfiguration of political power and submit it to the judgment of the ballot box, rather than deciding which institutions should change and which should remain beyond any form of political accountability. Experience has shown that the policy of obstruction has never built a state. On the contrary, it has contributed to weakening one. Whenever Lebanon glimpses an opportunity to rebuild its institutions, the language of threats and escalation returns, as though the objective were to keep the country at the mercy of political power balances rather than under the authority of the Constitution. The most troubling aspect of this rhetoric is that it leaves the Lebanese with only one choice: either submit to the political conditions imposed by the Shiite duo or watch the government fall and the country descend into yet another crisis. This can no longer be viewed as ordinary political opposition. It has become a permanent instrument of pressure on the state and its institutions, with the Lebanese people alone bearing the cost. In democratic systems, governments are challenged within the framework of institutions and brought down only when a constitutional majority rallies behind a clear alternative program. They are not overthrown because obstruction has become a method of governing, nor because institutional paralysis has been turned into a bargaining tool. If Speaker Nabih Berri opposes the framework agreement, that is his political right. If he seeks to bring down the government, that too is a constitutional right, provided the necessary conditions are met. But the Lebanese are equally entitled to ask him a simple question: what comes next? Who will form the next government? On what parliamentary majority will it rely? What will its program be? How will it revive the economy? How will it rebuild southern Lebanon? And how will it restore the confidence of both the Arab world and the international community? If the real objective is merely to acquire another lever of pressure with which to impose political conditions, the Lebanese can no longer bear such an approach. They have already paid an exorbitant price through the paralysis of state institutions, the collapse of the economy, and Lebanon’s isolation from its Arab and international environment. It is no longer acceptable for their future to remain hostage to the calculations of political forces. The time has come to move beyond the logic of “either we get what we want, or there is no state.” The state belongs to no one. The government is not a prize to be claimed. Parliament is not the exclusive preserve of any political force. And legitimacy can be renewed only through the will of the people. If those who invoke democracy truly believe in it, they should be willing to embrace it in its entirety, not only when it serves their interests. They should accept that it is the people who decide who governs, who serves as Speaker of Parliament, who remains in power, and who leaves it. Threatening to bring down the government whenever circumstances change, while refusing even to consider a comprehensive reconfiguration of political power, no longer convinces the Lebanese. They have grown weary of political blackmail. They are weary of the paralysis of the state. And they are weary of seeing their future turned into a bargaining chip in an endless political struggle. Lebanon today needs statesmen who build institutions, not politicians who threaten to bring them down whenever their decisions run counter to their own interests.

Every time Lebanon edges closer to a serious attempt at restructuring its relationship with its surroundings and with itself, a ready-made narrative resurfaces, reducing every negotiation process to a matter of 'surrender.' This label is no longer a simple political disagreement — it has become a tool for systematically blocking any process that could rehabilitate the very notion of statehood. Even more troubling, it is used to strip the state of its own legitimacy whenever it performs its natural role: negotiating and making decisions. The proposed framework agreement is not a surrender. On the contrary: it represents an advanced attempt to reintegrate Lebanon into the circle of states that hold sovereign decision-making power exclusively through their institutions — not through parallel power centers or entities operating outside the state. First: negotiating is not capitulating — it is an exercise of sovereignty States are not judged by their slogans, but by their ability to manage conflicts through political means rather than sliding toward explosion. Negotiation, at its core, is not a sign of weakness — it is one of the highest expressions of political power when wielded in the service of stability and the prevention of war. The framework agreement rests on a fundamental principle: ending the state of conflict through a process of direct negotiation under international auspices. This is not an 'external diktat,' as some would have us believe, but an acknowledgment that complex crises cannot be resolved from within alone — especially when the balance of power is deeply skewed. Those who claim that merely sitting at a negotiating table constitutes surrender are, in effect, rejecting the very principle of politics, and reducing the state to a slogan rather than a course of action. Second: the state reclaims its role… it does not abandon it One of the agreement's core components is strengthening the Lebanese state's capacity to fully extend its security authority. This is not so much an external demand as it is the very essence of any functioning state. The state's monopoly on weapons is not a negotiating clause — it is a constitutional principle. What this framework calls for is: consolidating security decision-making within legitimate institutions; putting an end to the dual armed force structure; enshrining the principle that the state alone holds the authority over decisions of war and peace. How can those who call for a strong state view the strengthening of that state as a 'surrender'? This is a political contradiction that cannot withstand any institutional logic. Third: the 'surrender' narrative conceals a rejection of the state — not of the agreement The discourse that labels the agreement a surrender does not engage with its provisions. It rejects the very principle of a state capable of exercising sovereign decision-making. The problem does not lie with the agreement, but with the refusal to accept that: the state is the sole authority over weapons; the state is the one that negotiates on behalf of all; the state is the one that defines the security and political framework. In this light, calling the agreement a surrender becomes mere rhetorical cover for resisting Lebanon's transition from the logic of parallel forces to that of a unified state. Fourth: the logic of 'absolute resistance' does not build a state Lebanon has paid the price for decades of a logic that treats every agreement as a concession, every negotiation as a defeat, and every opening as a betrayal. The results speak for themselves: a weakened state, an exhausted economy, a divided society. States are not built on permanent refusal, but on the ability to: manage balances of power; mitigate risks; secure whatever gains are possible rather than losing everything. The framework agreement, however complex it may be, follows this logic: transforming an open conflict into a process that can be managed and contained. Fifth: where does surrender truly lie? In the pursuit of chaos, or in bringing it under control? The real question is not whether the agreement constitutes a concession or not, but rather this: should Lebanon remain in a state of permanent, uncontrolled conflict, or move toward a gradual process of political and security organization? True surrender does not lie in negotiation, but in: the paralysis of the state; the entrenchment of a dual decision-making authority; keeping the country hostage to the risks of open war. As for the agreement, it represents an attempt to break this vicious cycle — not to entrench it. Sixth: the argument of 'imbalance' does not eliminate the need for a state It is argued that the agreement is not balanced. But even in the presence of imbalances, the alternative is not rejection — it is negotiation to improve the terms. A state is not built through withdrawal, but through engagement. Sovereignty is not restored by leaving the table, but by asserting one's presence at it. What ultimately matters is not just the form of the agreement, but whether it strengthens or weakens the state's capacity. Every clause that speaks to the state's monopoly on arms, the unification of security decision-making, and the rebuilding of institutions points in one direction: strengthening the state, not dismantling it. In the end, the state is not surrender… it is the opposite The most dangerous aspect of the discourse that attacks the agreement by labeling it 'surrender' is that it inverts concepts entirely: it turns the state into an adversary, and chaos into a sovereigntist stance. Yet the truth is clear and simple: surrender is when the state is incapable of being a state. When it begins to reclaim its decision-making, its institutions, and its authority, that is not surrender… it is the beginning of the way out of surrender. Lebanon today faces two choices, with no third option: either a state that negotiates, decides, and builds its future, or a permanent state of denial that produces nothing but collapse. The framework agreement, whatever the disagreements over its details, is a step toward statehood. And those who oppose it by calling it 'surrender' are not merely opposing an agreement… they are opposing the very idea of the state.