Opinion

The philosophical question of what comes first, the chicken or the egg, appears almost simple when set against the issue the country now faces: a (peace) agreement whose signing is made conditional on the disarmament of Hezbollah. This condition – set by our government, imposed by Israel, and desired by a growing majority of the Lebanese population – cannot, however, be met within a set timeframe. Moreover, whether through the Lebanese army or through strikes on Hezbollah positions, the militia’s arsenal remains operational. The problem is not only the presence of weapons, but also the infiltration of the militia into certain segments of the state apparatus. The militia paralyzes any measures taken against it and, worse, triggers internal unrest, while also raising the specter of mutiny aboard a drifting vessel that has already begun to sink. Whether it is a former prosecutor derailing an investigation, a judge imposing only a nominal fine for serious wrongdoing, senior officers infiltrated within the army acting as informants, or a general in a security service deploying squads against civilians, examples abound, demonstrating that Hezbollah has spread across multiple tiers of the system. When curare is injected into a body, all limbs and muscles relax, including the respiratory system, leading to asphyxiation. Either an antidote is administered to the patient, or the poison is extracted through a purge. Purge. A term with strongly negative connotation, recalling the Soviet era. Yet, in the face of grave problems, only equally decisive measures may suffice. Only a purge of the state – even if limited to certain key positions – would represent a first outline of a viable solution, internal rather than externally imposed, unlike recourse to Chapter VII of the United Nations Charter. The suspension of senior officials, both military and civilian, and even prosecutions against those who have obstructed the course of justice or used public institutions to inflame internal tensions – thereby fueling the threat of civil war – appears necessary. This would likely constitute the first step, if not the only one, capable of restoring the state’s credibility in the eyes of international institutions. Such credibility would, in turn, serve as leverage to secure assistance aimed at strengthening the sovereignty of legitimate public authority over the entire territory. Hezbollah’s allies and dependents will argue that dialogue must be prioritized as the only solution to the problem. Yet in the past, “national dialogues” have followed one another, serving only to further entrench Hezbollah’s grip on the state. “You can get much farther with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone.” The author of this phrase knew what he was talking about and made it his credo. It was Al Capone. Early retirements, immediate suspensions, dismissals – whatever term is used, what is required is a genuine overhaul of the state apparatus, at whatever level or rank. For it is only when the poison is extracted from the body that its organs and limbs can begin to move again. The task is certainly not an easy one. If President Aoun and Prime Minister Salam truly wish to prevent the Lebanese ship from capsizing and bring it back to port, without resorting to privateers or external assistance, this will likely be the only option. It is certain that powerful political actors will lay mines in their path in order to obstruct any possibility of disarmament and, of course, any agreement with Israel. But there comes a point when the choice between safeguarding a nation and protecting private interests is no longer a real choice at all. A kind of modern-day Augean stables in political form, far more arduous than Hercules’ labor, but necessary if the Lebanese phoenix is to gather its ashes and rise again.

Lebanese people often repeat a formula that has become almost axiomatic in describing their crisis: Lebanon is trapped between an "extremist" triad, doctrinal and religious in nature, embodied by Israel, Iran and the United States of America. This expression condenses a profound sense of siege and pressure, and reflects a popular awareness that the country's fate is no longer shaped from within alone. Yet the strength of this narrative lies in its simplicity, while its weakness lies in the risk of concealing the complexity of reality and the multiplicity of its layers. In practice, these three powers cannot be placed in the same category under the heading of "religious extremism" without falling into oversimplification. Religion does play a varying role in the policies of these actors, but it is neither the sole factor nor, in some cases, even the primary one. The more appropriate approach is to understand each party within its own structure, and then to read how these structures intersect on the Lebanese scene. In the case of Israel, the religious dimension manifests clearly in the rise of religious nationalist currents that lend the conflict a doctrinal character, particularly in matters of land and identity. Yet despite this presence, the Israeli establishment remains in its essence governed by a rigorous security doctrine. Lebanon, in this vision, is not a religious arena so much as a potential source of threat, especially given Hezbollah's existence as a military force operating outside state authority. Israel's conduct toward Lebanon is therefore better understood from the angle of deterrence and risk management than from that of a strictly religious project. Iran, for its part, presents a different model, one in which the religious and the political are structurally intertwined. The regime rests on the authority of the wilayat al-faqih , which makes religious ideology an integral component of decision-making. In this context, support for Hezbollah becomes an extension of a broader vision holding that the conflict in the region is not a mere rivalry between states, but a confrontation with doctrinal and political dimensions. To confine the Iranian role to this framework alone, however, would be to overlook an essential dimension: Tehran also operates according to a logic of interests, using this ideology as a tool for consolidating its regional influence. The United States, by contrast, appears relatively removed from this religious classification. It is a state founded on a secular system that does not invoke religion as an official reference point for its foreign policy. This does not mean religious influence is entirely absent; certain currents, such as evangelical conservatives, do play a role in shaping particular positions, especially regarding Israel. But the fundamental determinant of American policy remains pragmatism: protection of interests, ensuring the stability of allies, and balancing the influence of adversaries, chief among them Iran. It thus becomes clear that "religious extremism" is not an equal common denominator among these powers, but rather an element present to varying degrees, sometimes deployed as a tool of mobilisation or justification. The more accurate formulation would be that Lebanon stands at the intersection of three major projects: a security project led by Israel, an ideological project led by Iran, and a project of global influence led by the United States. These projects do not operate in isolation from one another; they intersect and collide, leaving the Lebanese scene exposed to constant tensions. Focusing on these external projects, important as it is, remains incomplete without pausing to consider the internal factor. Lebanon did not become an open arena solely because of the strength of external actors, but also because of the weakness within. The Lebanese state has suffered for decades from a structural crisis manifested in the absence of a monopoly on arms, the fragmentation of political decision-making, and the persistence of a confessional system that deepens divisions rather than addressing them. The confessional communities have often become channels of connection to the outside, to the point where each regional axis now has its extensions within Lebanon. This reality was not imposed entirely from without; internal forces contributed to it, seeing in alliance with these powers a means of strengthening their position domestically. In this way, the local and the regional became intertwined, and the state lost its capacity to act as arbiter among its own constituents. Within this framework, the formula "Lebanon is trapped between an extremist triad" becomes an expression of a consequence rather than an explanation of a cause. It describes a state of siege, but does not explain why Lebanon became susceptible to that siege in the first place. The deeper reason lies in the absence of a unifying national project capable of redefining the relationship between the state and its citizens, and between Lebanon and its surrounding environment. The way out of this reality passes not only through a change in the behaviour of external powers (which lies beyond Lebanon's capacity), but begins with rebuilding from within. This requires fundamental steps: re-establishing the concept of sovereignty by confining arms to the hands of the state, so as to reunify the security decision; reforming the political system toward reducing confessionalism and strengthening citizenship, thereby reducing susceptibility to external polarisation; building strong and transparent institutions that restore citizens' confidence and limit dependence on traditional networks of loyalty; adopting a balanced foreign policy that seeks to reduce engagement in axis conflicts rather than aligning fully with any one of them. In the end, Lebanon cannot insulate itself from its regional and international environment, but it can limit that environment's hold over it. The difference between "arena" and "state" does not lie in geographic position, but in the capacity to manage that position. And when Lebanon comes to possess that capacity, the simplistic narratives, including the narrative of the "extremist triad", will lose much of their force, because they will no longer reflect an imposed reality, but a stage that has been left behind.

President Donald Trump's various statements and U-turns will alter relations with the Europeans, NATO, and US allies. They will trigger reactions from Pacific and Middle Eastern countries. Westerners are advocating moderation and want to assume a role in securing the Strait of Hormuz after the cessation of hostilities. Will the United States be sidelined in the region? On February 28, 2026, the United States and Israel launched a military operation against Iran without prior notification to the heads of state and government of Western countries and NATO members. In the aftermath, however, US President Donald Trump requested their support, notably for securing the Strait of Hormuz, but also to provide direct backing to American operations. However, the vast majority of heads of state and government rejected this request. President Trump's reaction was clear, although incoherent at times. Denouncing a "gross mistake" and "cowardice," he asserted that he did not need them and would act alone, being "the strongest in the world." He even mentioned a possible disengagement from NATO, thus brandishing the threat of relieving himself of his membership duties, as stipulated in Article 5 of the organization's treaty. He also mentioned the possibility of partially withdrawing American troops stationed in Europe. For him, deprived of the United States, it would be a "paper tiger." To properly frame the meaning of his statements, he said he blamed the allies for not supporting the United States in times of crisis and for taking advantage of a one-way alliance. Consequently, why should he automatically guarantee their defense? All these criticisms did not prevent him later from requesting the participation of Europeans in the naval blockade he imposed on Iranian ports. After expressing their refusal, successively, some countries banned their airspace to American aircraft participating in military operations against Iran. A defensive and non-aggressive action In his statements, President Trump therefore lacks consistency. A need for support, or even active participation, is followed by a contemptuous lack of interest and the assertion that the United States is capable of winning this war alone. The concept of war is thus the subject of debate. According to Donald Trump, NATO members should respect their obligations in accordance with the founding treaty. Except that he himself started this war, incited by Israel, which thus becomes a co-belligerent. He is therefore the aggressor. However, the transatlantic organization is "defensive." In this specific case, Article 5 therefore does not apply. The text in question stipulates that an armed attack against one or more members in Europe or North America is considered an aggression against all, which justifies military intervention or collective defensive action. And if NATO has ever intervened, it was only on the basis of a UN mandate. The President of the United States actually expected active support from his allies, without however placing it within the formal framework of the transatlantic Alliance. However, this situation has had the effect of raising a doubt about the reliability of the declared and formalized American guarantees, where the United States plays a protective role. NATO countries and Europeans are not the only ones expressing these doubts. Other Pacific countries, primarily Japan, Australia, and South Korea, can now only doubt the assured American support in the event of a Chinese intervention. To these countries are added Taiwan, Indonesia, the Philippines, and the coastal states of the Arab-Persian Gulf, notably Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and the Sultanate of Oman. When a head of state, "primus inter pares" within NATO, triggers a conflict that could lead to a world war, he cannot ask the members of the concerned organization to support him and actively participate, blindly, in military operations. From all this, it becomes clear that the members of the Alliance, despite the lack of unanimity and some disagreements, are rallying around a single position adhered to by several Pacific countries. The project of ensuring the security of the Strait of Hormuz after the cessation of hostilities thus brings together many of them. Throughout the world, including in the Near and Middle East, and therefore in Lebanon, the restraint of Russia and China is appreciated. However, it would be naive to believe that they are not acting behind the scenes according to their own interests. But their position, similar to that of the Europeans and the allies of the United States, marked by non-participation in military operations, distances the risk of a drift towards a global-scale confrontation. The general line adopted by European governments, NATO countries, and the main concerned Pacific countries is to be approved, certainly, without forgetting nevertheless their principled commitment to securing the Strait of Hormuz. This should, however, be extended to the Arabian Sea and the Arab-Persian Gulf, and then to the Red Sea. Should this happen, there would be reason to commend their wisdom. One question remains: Is it illusory, or even utopian, to think that this common attitude could be taken into consideration by the Iranians during eventual peace talks? One might be tempted to see, in Lebanon, the extension of the same conflict: the protagonists seem, at first glance, identical. On one side, Hezbollah remote-controlled by Iran; Israel as the master of the game; and, in the background, the United States which, for the time being, positions itself as a moderator. On the other, Iran, a central actor whatever one says; the United States, other masters of the game; and Israel which, from initial instigator, then reined in, has become a follower. However, perspectives differ significantly regarding the evolution of these two theaters. One remains within a strictly regional framework while the other takes on a global dimension. One excludes Europe, and especially France. The other marginalizes, for now, Europe and the envisioned coalition of about forty countries, including several from the Pacific. The Iranian problem seems insoluble as long as the - justified - demands of the United States go against those firmly defended by the Revolutionary Guards, now masters of the country. Beyond these demands, which are for the moment irreconcilable, Donald Trump's behavior in terms of analysis, diplomacy, and mastery of negotiations of this nature seems far removed from what this kind of situation would require. He seems, for the time being, to limit himself to the use of violence. If he maintains this attitude, it would not be ruled out to see the Russians and the Chinese intervene. What follows will largely depend on the choices he makes: regarding the evolution of the crisis, the conduct of international affairs, or the settlement of disputes between countries. It is quite possible that Donald Trump wins. But at the cost of what sacrifices? Who and what will he sacrifice before November? In the long term, Iran could appear as the true winner. On the scale of risks, the probable outweighs the possible. Could a profound questioning of the reliability of American protection by the Gulf countries result in a replacement of American bases? But by which protector? China and Russia would benefit from it. If France decides to support Lebanon with the firmness shown by its president, it will have to do so with conviction and determination. Half-measures no longer have a place in such a context. It is therefore a matter of two different wars whose resolutions must be coordinated. One could be treated in isolation, the other not. Will President Trump take this into account during the final "round" of negotiations with the Revolutionary Guards? "What has changed the most over there is not China, it is not Russia, it is Europe: it has ceased to count there" (A. Malraux). Rather than having eyes only for Ukraine and approaching the Middle East solely from the angle of the price of oil, Europeans, especially France, should set themselves the ambition of promoting a "firm peace" in Lebanon.

Lebanon and the Lebanese cannot confront the challenges facing the country while divided to this degree over the great strategic choices, especially the question of how to deal with the Israeli occupation and resolve the issue of confining weapons to the state, a legitimate, self-evident demand recognized in every country in the world, for there is no state that accepts the existence of an armed faction beyond its control, capable of igniting a major war not merely without its consent but without so much as consulting it. The lines of vertical fracture in Lebanon keep widening, and the rift among the Lebanese deepens by the day, until Lebanese political discourse finds itself confined between two poles: one racing toward a peace whose conditions have not yet ripened, and another retreating into the field without reading the exceptional transformations the region has witnessed over the past three years, from uncontested Israeli supremacy to the fall of Bashar al-Assad's regime in Syria to the American-Israeli-Iranian war. As for the argument that those who negotiate are not those who resist on the ground, it is valid and obstructs the negotiations currently underway in Washington, however early they remain, particularly given that Israel, in all previous negotiating experiences with other parties, was never disposed to make any concession whatsoever, let alone a gratuitous one. Faced with this dangerous political schism among the Lebanese, it is necessary to revisit certain realities that neither side nor any of the contending parties can ignore or avert their eyes from. Chief among these is the acknowledgment that there are historical Israeli aggressions against Lebanon, and that the successive wars Israel waged against the Lebanese were not exclusively aimed at achieving the declared objectives, whether driving out the Palestinians in earlier times or destroying Hezbollah today. There is a manifest Israeli vengeance against Lebanon: against its civilians (and the images of Black Wednesday on 8 April 2026 remain vivid in memory), against its villages and towns, against its infrastructure, against its hospitals, and above all against its pluralist experience, which contradicts Israeli uniformity and reflects the richness of a Lebanese society that, despite all its difficulties, takes pride in its diversity, unlike Israeli society, which proclaims the supremacy of one of its components and treats the others with extreme arrogance and contempt. Among the other realities that must be acknowledged is the return of occupation to the lands of the South and the invention of what has been called the "yellow line," in reference to the Gaza Strip and the other colors Israel uses to fragment the West Bank and plant settlements within it. Fifty-five villages have now come under occupation in practice, a grave setback when measured against the great national achievement of the year 2000, namely the complete withdrawal without conditions, without a peace treaty, and without even a security arrangements agreement. Yet the problem lies not only in acknowledging these realities, but also in the serious search for ways of addressing them, whether through armed resistance or political negotiation. The dilemma consists equally in the fact that it is inadmissible for political negotiations not to draw any benefit from the card of the field, just as it would be illogical for the field to remain entirely disconnected from political negotiations. On the matter of negotiations, it is useful to continue working toward separating the Lebanese track from any other track. Lebanon has suffered enough from the tying of its trajectories and destiny to those of other countries, and the experience of "twinning" the Lebanese and Syrian tracks during the era of tutelage remains before us, having amply demonstrated that it never served Lebanon's interests in any way. That said, the Lebanese negotiator can draw on the card of the field in one way or another, rather than going to Washington empty-handed with an approach that carries a hint of supplication and a search for sympathy. If the present political moment is characterized by an American attention to Lebanon, manifested in pressure on the Israeli government for a ceasefire, it must be borne in mind that the network of American-Israeli interests is far deeper and more entrenched than Lebanon's modest calculations. Lebanon cannot compete with Israel for Washington's affection, and the matter is far more complex than that. Drawing on the "card of the field," however, also requires an acknowledgment on the part of Hezbollah, and those who stand behind it, that the era of complete disconnection from the Lebanese state is no longer acceptable at the Lebanese, Arab, or international level, and that one of its most harmful manifestations was the dragging of Lebanon into endless and fruitless wars, and that there is a genuine need to work, under some formula to be determined, within the fold of the state. And above all, this step would not merely strengthen Lebanon's negotiating position, but would also help bridge the internal rift, relieve the pressure, and ward off the security or social explosion whose elements are slowly and steadily accumulating. If the crude dialogue formulas of national dialogue tables no longer yield any results, new formulas must be devised that take mutations into account, reinforce Lebanon's resilience, and block the road to civil war at a moment when Israel is lying in wait to incite the communities against one another, a game it has played many times before. In this context, it is also incumbent on the "peace camp" to rein in its momentum somewhat, whether in its rush toward "media normalization" or in raising issues that are entirely premature and amount to nothing more than free gifts to Israel, among them the hasty proposal to repeal the boycott law against Israel adopted in 1955, which criminalizes any dealings with it. Lebanon remains in a state of belligerence to this day, and Israel proves this daily, through the two thousand martyrs and more who fell in the last war. Just as the "resistance camp" is expected to refrain from threatening fitna, internal war, and the subjugation of all Lebanese in order to "discipline" them, brandishing the specter of a new May 7, which remains an unjustifiable stain on those who perpetrated that act in 2008. It is equally called upon to desist from affixing the labels of collaboration, treason, and Zionism to all who hold a different opinion. Lebanon may be standing before a historic opportunity, and that is true. But the matter requires discernment and awareness in the way it is managed, rather than haste and recklessness, lest the opportunity turn into a curse that reignites the fuse of civil war. Without dialogue, in some form or another, tensions will deepen, and the mission of liberating the occupied lands and putting a definitive end to the war will become all the more arduous.

Anyone examining Hezbollah's logo and the image it represents will note that, since its creation, this party has been an armed wing of the Islamic Republic of Iran. This is no longer a simple symbolic representation, but a reality supported by facts: Hezbollah has supported Iran because it is its armed wing, and Iran has often boasted of controlling four Arab capitals, including Beirut. The organic link between the 'head' and the 'armed wing' was confirmed by the ceasefires in Iran and Lebanon. The two agreements were inextricably linked; when an agreement wavered in Tehran, the other wavered in Beirut. So much so that some research and study centers claim that the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), just as it controls the decision-making centers in Iran, also controls those of Hezbollah in Beirut. There are at least two pieces of evidence supporting this: First, the assassination of a Revolutionary Guards commander who was alongside Hassan Nasrallah in the same room. Second, the former Iranian ambassador to Beirut was the target of a pager attack, as he was using a device distributed to military and security officials of the party and the Revolutionary Guards. The flag or emblem, as it appears in the image, represents an arm holding a rifle, with the inscription 'Hezbollah is victorious' above it. The Hezbollah flag thus appears as: an Iranian arm holding a rifle. Describing Hezbollah as an 'Iranian arm' is no longer a simple political slogan chanted by its opponents. Over time, this assertion has turned into an interpretation supported by a series of historical and on-the-ground facts that reveal the deep and organic link between the party and the Revolutionary Guards. The relationship between the two is not based on a fleeting alliance or a passing convergence of interests, but rather on direct collaboration, continuous funding, and strategic support clearly manifest in times of both war and peace. The former Secretary-General of Hezbollah, Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, was not bluffing when he stated: 'Our weapons and our money come from Iran,' going so far as to declare: 'I am proud to be a soldier in the army of Wilayat al-Faqih.' Since its creation in late 1982, Hezbollah has never been a Lebanese project, but rather a concrete extension of the Islamic Revolution in Iran. The Revolutionary Guard Corps supervised the training of its first fighters in Baalbek and established its ideological framework on the basis of 'Wilayat al-Faqih'. The party therefore answers solely to the Iranian Supreme Leader. This point alone is enough to discredit any notion of independence, because an organization that derives its ideological legitimacy from an external leadership cannot be considered a fully sovereign Lebanese actor. Moving from theory to practice, the picture becomes clearer. During the July 2006 war, the confrontation was not a simple local operation, but part of a complex regional context. This operation was part of the Iranian deterrence strategy against Israel and the United States. The abduction of the two Israeli soldiers was carried out at Iran's request, as later leaked documents revealed. The military and logistical support provided to Hezbollah during this conflict was a crucial element in its ability to resist, reinforcing the hypothesis that the military decision was part of broader Iranian calculations. This same pattern was repeated in the subsequent phases. Hezbollah's involvement in the Syrian war was not motivated by internal Lebanese concerns, but was a direct response to the desire to protect Iran's influence in Damascus, its most important ally within the 'axis of resistance'. In this case, Hezbollah was no longer a mere beneficiary of support, but a field instrument at the service of implementing regional policies led by Tehran, thereby consolidating its status as a military force projected abroad. In recent years, these indicators have become even more marked. The events following October 8, 2023, and what has been described as a 'war of support and harassment', revealed a series of coordinated operations that go beyond the purely Lebanese framework. Furthermore, the repeated rocket fire, including the six on March 2, testify to an involvement in a broader regional conflict, where the fronts, from Gaza to Lebanon via Yemen, converge within a single strategic framework steered by Iran. Some might argue that Hezbollah retains a certain decision-making autonomy and takes into account the Lebanese context and its sectarian and political complexities. However, this argument clashes with the reality of funding, armament, and training, with the party relying almost entirely on Iran for these essential aspects. In political science, whoever holds the instruments of power has the greatest ability to influence decision-making. Therefore, speaking of independence is more a matter of theory than practice. Even the visual symbolism of the party conveys connotations that go beyond the local framework. Its iconic logo, depicting a hand brandishing a rifle and the slogan 'Hezbollah is victorious', is not just a simple propaganda tool, but a reflection of the culture of the Islamic Revolution, which glorifies 'armed resistance' as an ideological instrument. While the interpretation of the hand as the 'arm of the Revolutionary Guards' remains symbolic, it falls within the structural relationship uniting the two entities, with the symbol becoming the visual expression of an existing political and military function. More importantly, the regional behavior of the party is almost entirely consistent with Iran's strategic priorities. It fights where Iran fights, de-escalates tensions when Iran de-escalates tensions, and intensifies them when deterrence is necessary. This synchronization cannot be explained by chance or a mere convergence of interests; rather, it indicates deep coordination, or even direct leadership in certain cases. Ultimately, calling Hezbollah an 'Iranian armed wing' does not mean it is a mere instrument without a will of its own, but rather that its will is constrained by a strategic framework defined by Tehran. The facts, from its foundation to its funding and military actions, clearly indicate that Hezbollah operates within an Iran-led system and constitutes one of its main proxies in the region. Consequently, the debate is no longer about the existence of a link between Hezbollah and Iran, but rather about the extent and limits of this link. What remains certain, however, is that this connection is so deep that it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to separate the Lebanese and Iranian decision-making processes regarding Hezbollah during major conflicts.

I once followed a long speech by the late Secretary-General of Hezbollah, Sayed Hassan Nasrallah, in which he recounted in painstaking detail the events of “the day the Prophet’s family women were taken captive.” He was visibly and deeply moved throughout. I remember being genuinely struck by the way this painful episode was summoned as though it had occurred two or three days before, presented in a manner admitting no question of its veracity, as if transmitted by eyewitnesses whose testimony stood beyond all doubt. Images of village women weeping in churches on Good Friday, listening to the chant “Wa habibi” or “I Am the Sorrowful Mother,” came naturally to mind. But those rituals remain anchored in their spiritual dimension, not in the precise time, place, and circumstances of the event itself, unlike the Ashura commemorations and the days associated with them, among which figures “the captivity of the Prophet’s women.” I say today that this may well be the greatest paradox embedded in the collective memory of the Shia majority: to remain captive to the moment of “al-Taff,” as if time had stopped there, in Karbala, in the year 61 of the Hijri calendar. And just recently, at the opening of 2024, Baghdad witnessed a scene of surrealism unsurpassed in kind: the trial of Yazid ibn Muawiya, as though a contemporary court could settle a conflict fourteen centuries old by judicial decree. The truth is that this profoundly sensitive matter will find no resolution in the corridors of courtrooms, but in the labyrinthine depths of a psychology and a mentality that refuse to this day to exit the condition of “eternal mourning.” The time has come for a bold step, perhaps “shocking” to some, yet necessary for those who genuinely wish to cross the bridge of history toward the future. We need a “general Shia amnesty,” not as a form of forgetting the crime, but in acknowledgment that what occurred was a struggle for power, like thousands of conflicts that peoples and states have traversed across the ages, from pharaonic Egypt to the Persian and Mesopotamian empires, from Athens and Rome to Paris and the Americas. This amnesty must encompass everyone, including the accused Shimr ibn Dhi al-Jawshan, on the basis that “they know not what they do.” All were instruments in a merciless machinery of governance, fuel for a purely human struggle over throne and influence. If the concern is “justice,” al-Mukhtar al-Thaqafi attended to that task in his time, putting the sword to the necks of the killers and all, or nearly all, who had participated in that catastrophe, closing the blood account with blood. As for the perpetual psychological summoning of revenge, day after day, that is a formula for unending disasters, calamities, and catastrophes forever and ever. Opening a new page is not a luxury; it is an imperative. Entering the modern age is impossible when memory is laden with blood, with remorse, with historical enmities and calls to restore a wounded dignity. We human beings need forgiveness to find peace, need “amnesty” to move forward. History is something we read in order to learn from it, not to inhabit it. Turn the page. Believe me, nothing is more beautiful than being born anew each morning.

It is a hangover that the Shiite community is experiencing—a real bout of intoxication’s aftermath. The Hezbollah–Amal tandem had elevated it to the height of its power: having penetrated the deep state, this community had entrenched itself there while positioning itself as a regional interlocutor after centuries of marginalization and discrimination. Then, starting in September 2024, the house of cards began to collapse under repeated Israeli blows. And in the end, thousands of families were displaced. Heartbreaking were those lines of cars that, having headed south following the announcement of the April 17 ceasefire, immediately turned back. A human tragedy that has been ongoing for weeks, affecting a confessional group and its members, who are at times stigmatized by their fellow Lebanese citizens. A bit of history Nothing predisposed the Twelver Shiites to such a cruel fate—they who were once said to take comfort in quietism. In 1967, the historian Kamal Salibi could write: “Among the Shiites, a long history of persecution and repression has been reflected in the community’s characteristic political timidity and its apparently weak organizational structure.” This picture is largely outdated, and the Lebanese “millet” in question, having risen to the forefront since the 1980s, has been able to claim a prominent place on both the Lebanese and regional political stages. But beyond the slogans and rhetoric—sometimes fiery, sometimes soothing—of Hezbollah and the Amal Movement, there was a single aspiration, an overriding idea that mobilized all their followers: to create a Shiite entity on the shores of the Mediterranean, as if to reconnect, even symbolically, with the glory of the Fatimid Caliphate of a thousand years ago. A reckoning with history seemed necessary. Legitimate ambitions Who has not heard the average Shiite say to a Christian passerby: “Move aside, give me your place—it is rightfully mine”? Who has not been startled to hear a Hezbollah member or a supporter of Nabih Berri declare: “We will only lay down our arms if we are granted positions traditionally held by Maronites, such as the Presidency of the Republic, the command of the army, and the governorship of the Central Bank”? These desires and ambitions may be legitimate and could materialize under demographic, financial, and military pressure—areas in which the tandem is well endowed. However… There is, nevertheless, a catch From its very origins, Greater Lebanon had a reason to exist only as a bastion or refuge for Christians. If they were to lose their power at the head of the state or relinquish their prerogatives to other communities, this country would no longer have a reason to exist as an entity independent of Syria. Suppose that, in a particular configuration, the regime in power in Damascus were to invade and declare an Anschluss—do you think the Christian West would react if its co-religionists no longer played a leading role or had been reduced to insignificance? In such a scenario, events would unfold as they did when Putin annexed Crimea—that is, with little more than verbal condemnation. Another scenario: if those same Christians were no longer at the helm of Lebanon, and if Syria and Israel decided to divide our country—as Hitler and Stalin did with Poland in 1939—which Western capital would react and intervene to restore the status quo ante? That said, when will we understand that the prerogatives of Christians within the state are not only guarantees for their own communities, but also—and above all—a shield for the “Lebanese nation,” if such a nation indeed exists? Why choose the wrong enemy? It is understood that the Hezbollah–Amal tandem must remain vigilant. But rather than guarding against a regional partner, it is Syria—where atrocities have been committed—that it should be wary of, not its Lebanese fellow citizens, whether Christian, Sunni, or Druze. These are not the people it should be confronting. But how can one speak of reason when hubris has caused a community to lose its sense of proportion, and when it seems to take gratuitous pleasure in making enemies? Drunk on what are claimed to be divine victories, the Shiite tandem has managed to antagonize not only the Jews of Israel, but also the Sunnis of Syria, the Christians of Lebanon, and the Druze. Who can top that?

Division in Lebanon is no longer a consequence of war; it has become one of its instruments. What we are witnessing today might be described as an economy of division — hatred converted into raw material, produced daily, manufactured, distributed and consumed, serving several parties at once, even when those parties appear to be in open enmity. The conflict has migrated from military violence to symbolic violence. When an elderly man rises to insult the head of government in abject language, when another attacks the president and reminds him of Sadat's fate, when children are trained in invective and the glorification of militarisation extends even to a shoe, the matter no longer concerns the individuals targeted but what they represent: a circumvention of felt anxiety and fear, a deliberate intent to embed in popular consciousness the image of a collapsing state, to normalise insult as a mode of political expression, shifting the conflict from a critique of power to its degradation and accusation of treason. This goes well beyond moral decline or uncontrolled rage; it is, at its core, the sign of a far graver mutation — striking the image of the state in the collective consciousness and replacing public deliberation with defamation. When power ceases to be an object of accountability and becomes a target of humiliation, it is drained of all symbolic legitimacy. This is precisely what Pierre Bourdieu called "symbolic violence": the moment when language itself becomes an instrument of deconstruction in the service of domination, far beyond its simple communicative function. What we are seeing today cannot be reduced to a divergence of positions or differing political readings; it is a systematic process that remoulds society from within — through language, image and education — rendering it more fragile and less capable of producing shared meaning or a unifying national stance. Lebanon today faces not only the danger of war but that of a society being refounded on the basis of humiliation. And what is being sown in the new generations is more troubling still. Children trained in abuse, filmed and celebrated as though performing a heroic act, integrated into a staging of collective mobilisation — this is not an incidental detail but a mechanism for reproducing division through education. The child who learns that hatred is a legitimate form of expression and that insult is a mode of presence will not become a citizen tomorrow, but an instrument in a conflict whose dimensions he cannot perceive. At that moment, the child ceases to be a victim and is transformed into a tool: an early carrier of hatred, a future citizen stripped of any capacity to think beyond what has been instilled in him. It is a slow moulding of consciousness, in which fractures are instilled in language before they ever surface in positions. A form of "soft brainwashing", so to speak — one that is not imposed by force but built through repetition, normalisation and social encouragement. Symbols, too, have been drawn into this trajectory. Images that glorify the military boot or turn it into a festive accessory are not simply expressions of vulgarity; they signal a redefinition of values — from dignity to submission, from citizenship to obedience — and a return to the era of the idols of the Jâhiliyya. In this scene, the warring parties do not necessarily coordinate their actions, yet they converge in their effects. And the contradiction is striking: while Israel persists in aggression, destruction and occupation, it presents itself as respectful of Lebanese sanctities, to the point that Saar apologises for the Israeli soldier who broke a statue of Christ, even as the same forces attack churches and mosques in Jerusalem and Bethlehem and bar worshippers from entering them. Hezbollah, conversely, conceals its impotence by striking everything the Lebanese citizen holds dear. Israel profits from the unravelling of the social fabric and from the transformation of each military strike — as in Ain Saadeh and Beirut — into material for internal discord, neutralising any possibility of a unified national response. Hezbollah, for its part, works to deepen mutual fear among Lebanese and to undermine the idea of a unifying state, thereby reinforcing the logic of "protection" outside its institutions. Paradoxically, both parties feed on the same process: the more the internal fragmentation intensifies, the more their respective justifications are consolidated. Responsibility does not end there. The other political forces participate, to varying degrees, in entrenching this reality — through sectarian discourse, selective silences, or the exploitation of fear in the service of leadership. The public space thus becomes an open arena for instincts rather than debate, for mobilisation rather than accountability. The gravest consequence lies not in division itself, but in the loss of standards: society loses its capacity to distinguish between what is acceptable and what is not. At that point, the problem no longer resides in any particular event but in the structure that receives it and reproduces it. All of this occurs at a delicate moment, when Lebanon is supposed to be standing on the threshold of a new negotiating process. But instead of this process representing an opportunity to align visions and build common support, it is the fragmentation of narratives that prevails, deepening the internal fracture, weakening the state rather than consolidating it, and eroding its symbolic weight to the point of threatening to empty any negotiation of its substance. For states negotiate not only with their borders but with the cohesion of their societies and their capacity to produce a common position, or at the very least a shared narrative. Lebanon today faces not only the danger of military strikes but that of a society dislocated from within, reduced to being a mere arena for the management of conflicts. This is the most perilous phase: when disintegration ceases to be an outcome of war and becomes a condition for its continuation. We find ourselves then before a society being reconstituted on pre-state foundations. Faced with this, it is not enough to record positions or issue condemnations, to reject this strike or denounce that insult. What is needed is to recover a minimum of meaning: that the victims are not sects but citizens, that the state is not a belligerent but a framework, that dignity is not a detail one can relinquish. Without this, every military strike will be nothing more than one further step in a process of disintegration that began from within… This is the most dangerous phase: when disintegration ceases to be an effect of conflict and becomes a culture. The battle is then no longer fought only on the ground but over the very meaning of the human being. What is needed now is to reconquer meaning. To rehabilitate the idea of the citizen, not the subjugated subject. To rehabilitate the state, not the symbol; dignity, not force. For a society that makes its peace with humiliation has no need of anyone to defeat it… it need only continue as it is.

This country—ours, after all—deserves better than your “resistance”! But what curse hangs over us, in this Orient given over to the whims of warmongers and would-be martyrs? Every time Arab leaders indulged in incendiary rhetoric and were swept into wars, we were headed for disaster. Thus, on the eve of June 1967, the provocations of the Syrian Baath regime in Damascus dragged Egypt and Jordan into a six-day war. On one side, Egypt lost the Sinai, control of the Gaza Strip, and mastery of the Suez Canal; on the other, Syria lost the Golan, while the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan was stripped of the West Bank and the Old City of Jerusalem (1). To this day, neither Damascus nor Amman has recovered from that misstep; the territories Israel had “taken” from them were never to be regained. Only Lebanon, which had kept its distance, escaped the debacle and managed to preserve the entirety of its 10,452 km². But neither the Palestinians, nor the Haraqa al-Wataniya , nor the Iranians—who arrived last—saw it that way. They were determined, at all costs, to drag us into a conflict lost in advance, in order to demonstrate Arab and Islamic solidarity. That same Haraqa al-Wataniya , relying on the PLO, believed it could achieve its aims in 1975 by storming the “Lebanist” and legalist strongholds. Misled by its own insurrectionary rhetoric, it rejected the “isolationist” policy of the regime in place—a policy that had nevertheless preserved southern Lebanon from an Israeli invasion. But what could we do? It was written that sooner or later we would be occupied by foreign forces. With this difference: today we are in a state of belligerency not out of Arab solidarity, but to avenge the martyrdom of the Iranian Supreme Leader. Bravo—“twenty years later” Being in the eye of the storm, let the numbers speak for themselves, and let us admit that Hezbollah has surpassed its 2006 score. During the 33-day war, 1,200 deaths were recorded; today, over the same span of time, there are already 1,400 victims (2). Bravo, Hezb! Let us continue: if twenty years ago more than 100,000 housing units were destroyed, this time systematic destruction has pulverized entire neighborhoods, and border villages have been wiped off the map (3). And to complete the comparison, note that while the one million displaced in 2006 were able, as soon as the fighting stopped, to return to their homes, they will not be able to do so under the current circumstances: the displacement, since last month, of 1.2 million people risks becoming irreversible. We must now expect, as one observer puts it, a lasting transformation of the territory and a spatial reshaping—a geographic reconfiguration of the South aimed at “disarticulating Shiite areas” by cutting lines of communication. The idea is to establish a buffer zone, a prelude maybe to a creeping annexation. Bravo again, Hezb! The West, our mihrab! From independence, Lebanon chose to set itself apart and to detach from the neighboring countries mired in their anachronisms and nationalist rhetoric. Without denying our Eastern origins, and even less our Arab brotherhood, we looked—boldly—toward the West, which we took as our model and our mihrab. Our state distrusted disruptive ideologues as much as it did overexcited tribunes and warmongers. It was this gap between us and the neighboring Arab countries that defined us, and ensured on our soil the flourishing of formal freedoms and free enterprise—things strictly banned under Nasser, under the Assads (father and son), and under Saddam Hussein. Yet this Lebanese idiosyncrasy was seen as high treason by certain political parties and a good part of our people. In 1956, President Chamoun could refuse to sever diplomatic relations with the United Kingdom and France, which had gone astray in the Suez expedition. But from 1990 onward, we no longer had the means to resist: we would align ourselves definitively with Damascus… And since then, despite the fall of the Baathist regime, we have been struggling to get out of the rut. And to tell you the truth, we are not yet done with Hezb. From one confrontation to another, it outdoes itself—it hurtles from catastrophe to catastrophe! 1—Moreover, Golda Meir did not fail to tell King Hussein: all this would still be yours had you not intervened on June 6! 2—As of today, we have surpassed two thousand dead, not to mention the wounded and those permanently disabled. 3—There will be plenty of time to take stock.

A young teenager proudly returns home and announces to his parents that he passed his exam, handing them his paper with a grade of 3/20 written on it. A failing grade, certainly, but for the student, it's a victory! And why not, really? Hezbollah proclaimed its own victory, in a psychologically charged moment, this Friday, April 17th, in a festive atmosphere, where its supporters let their joy erupt, along with the shells of B7s and RPGs; bursts of fire from their tracer-bullet machine guns lit up the sky for more than forty minutes. A veritable sound and light show over the capital, declared a demilitarized zone just a few hours earlier at a conference… A divine victory (repeatedly) that will in no way be tainted by considerations such as the human and material toll, however heavy it may be. No matter the deaths, the injuries, the destruction, the scorched earth and the occupation of the South, the economic consequences, etc., as long as the militia's leaders, despite being educated and knowledgeable, advocate and proclaim such nonsense, and what's worse, believe it themselves. The presence of a brain doesn't necessarily imply its use. This is precisely why brainwashing others is so easy. Not only does Hezbollah make decisions for all Lebanese, but it also thinks for its own supporters. While the Israeli army has severed communication links between the south and the north (across the Litani River), Hezbollah leaders have managed to sever the neural connections of their henchmen, to such an extent that, in their logic (if they have any), doubting their victory is tantamount to siding with the enemy. More than 2,200 dead, so what? There are wars where the numbers are significantly higher, therefore victory! More than 40 villages literally razed to the ground, so what? It's just stone, it can be rebuilt, therefore victory! More than ten kilometers of the country occupied, so what? On May 25th, we'll celebrate "liberation" day, and it will be a public holiday, therefore victory! It is thus humanly impossible to convince a vanquished that they are truly vanquished. And since it seems that reality has become a variable to be adjusted, why stop now? It will suffice to change the words and their meanings to transform the facts. At this rate, every retreat will become a strategic advance, every loss proof of gain, every defeat a misunderstood victory, sovereignty a flexible concept, destruction a form of investment, death a new life, and above all, thinking for oneself is treason. After all, when a lie is repeated loudly and for long enough, it eventually becomes truthful to those who have stopped checking. However, the most worrying thing is not that some people are trying to rewrite reality, but that many people seem ready to believe it without even rereading it.