Politics

Some journeys end when you return to the airport. Others truly begin only after you come back. Weeks have passed since our visit to Rome, yet many details have stayed with me. It was a short visit, but it made me look at Lebanon from a different distance. Who Opened Rome’s Doors to Us? Behind this visit was an effort that deserves to be acknowledged. Bernard Selwan Khoury and Jessie Karam played a central role in organizing the meetings and opening doors for us in Rome, through a program that was not merely a series of protocol appointments, but an attempt to bring a different Lebanese voice into academic, political and Vatican circles. Through COSMO Monitor, the main stop began on September 8 at LUISS University, with a seminar titled “Lebanon in Transition: Perspectives on the Country’s Future,” under the patronage of the Med-Or Italian Foundation. Political meetings then followed in Rome and at the Italian Chamber of Deputies, culminating at the Vatican. The importance of what Bernard and Jessie did lay not only in arranging the meetings, but in giving us the opportunity to say directly, and without intermediaries, what we believe the outside world needs to hear about Lebanon. We went carrying a great deal of Lebanon in our bags. We carried the South and its wars, the state we dream of but have so far failed to complete, the weapons that have become present in every discussion about the country’s future, and the fear that Lebanese Shiites might be reduced, in the eyes of the outside world, to a single image, as though millions of people shared one opinion and one political choice. Above all, we carried the desire to say that there is another Lebanon, one that does not always appear on the news. At LUISS: How Do Others See Us? At the seminar, I watched the audience as much as I listened to the speakers. What do these people know about Lebanon? What do they see when they hear its name? War? Hezbollah? Israel? Iran? Collapse? Or do they still see a country that can be saved? There, I rediscovered something we forget while immersed in Beirut’s daily disputes: the world does not live the details we live. From the outside, the picture is more condensed and harsher. There is a state that is supposed to decide, an army that is supposed to protect, and institutions that are supposed to govern. And opposite them, there are weapons and military decision-making outside those institutions. Hence the simple question: Who decides in Lebanon? We did not go to Rome to say that Shiites are against Hezbollah. That would not be true. Nor did we go to claim that we represent the Shiite community. No one has the right to monopolize an entire community, neither us nor anyone else. We went to say that Lebanese Shiites are not a single bloc, that among them are people who want a full state rather than half a state, and who believe that protecting Shiites does not mean isolating them from their country, but bringing them back to the heart of the national project. Hence the phrase that accompanied us: “We are Lebanese before we are Shiite.” At the Italian Chamber of Deputies During our political meetings, especially at the Italian Chamber of Deputies, it was clear that Lebanon continues to attract attention despite all the crises and wars occupying the world. What was striking was the convergence between supporters of Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni and her opponents whenever Lebanon was mentioned, despite their deep and substantial disagreements. But this interest was not sentimental. No one told us that the world would come and save Lebanon. And that is a good thing. It is time we stopped waiting for others to build the state we have failed to build ourselves. What became clear from the discussions was that Lebanon is now viewed within a broader regional and international picture: Iran, Israel, the Mediterranean, Europe, security, migration, peace, and the transformations reshaping the Middle East. And therein lies the danger. The world is moving quickly. If Lebanon does not find its place in these transformations, others will not stop and wait for us to settle our differences. “Blessed Are the Peacemakers” From the right: Jad Akhawi, Sayyed Ali al-Amine, Cardinal Pietro Parolin, Sheikh Mohammad Ali al-Hajj al-Amili, & Dr. Wajih Kanso. Then came the Vatican. There, the feeling was different. We entered to meet Cardinal Pietro Parolin as part of a delegation that included Sheikh Mohammad Ali al-Hajj al-Amili, Dr. Wajih Kanso, Sayyed Ali al-Amine, and myself. A delegation of Lebanese Shiite figures entering the heart of the Vatican to speak not about Shiite rights, but about Lebanon. As we entered, I told Cardinal Parolin that we were there to try to put into practice the message the Pope had brought to Lebanon and the Lebanese: “Blessed are the peacemakers.” I then added that we also wanted to thank the Vatican for the beatification of Patriarch Elias Hoyek. I told him that, for us, Hoyek is not merely a Maronite patriarch or a figure in Church history. He is one of the founding fathers of the idea of Greater Lebanon, the man who carried Lebanon’s cause to the Paris Peace Conference and defended its establishment. At that point, the cardinal’s reaction caught my attention. He paused over the remark and showed clear interest in it. It seemed that the connection between a Lebanese Shiite delegation, Patriarch Hoyek, Greater Lebanon, and the Pope’s message to the peacemakers carried a particular meaning for him. From that moment on, the meeting moved beyond protocol and became a warmer, deeper discussion, to the point that the cardinal asked us to sit down and stay longer than the time originally allotted. For me, perhaps this was the most beautiful image of the entire trip. Four Lebanese Shiites sitting in the Vatican and speaking of a Maronite patriarch as one of the fathers of their country. Is this not, in the end, the very idea of Lebanon? Hoyek Does Not Belong to Christians Alone The conversation about Hoyek stayed with me after we left the Vatican. More than a century ago, the question was: how could Greater Lebanon be born? Today, the question has become: How do we preserve it? The borders were drawn, the state was proclaimed, the Constitution was established, yet the very idea of Lebanon still needs, in every generation, people willing to defend it. For me, as a Lebanese Shiite, there is no contradiction whatsoever in regarding Patriarch Hoyek as part of my own history. If he is one of Lebanon’s founding fathers, then he does not belong to one community. He is part of the national history of every Lebanese. This is precisely where our phrase, “We are Lebanese before we are Shiite,” becomes more than a political slogan. It also becomes a way of reading our history. What Did I See at the Vatican? I felt that the Vatican looks at Lebanon from a different distance than the one from which we look at ourselves. We see the government, the weapons, the borders, electricity, the economy, the next war and the next settlement. There, however, there is also another idea of Lebanon. A small and extraordinarily complex country that, despite wars and divisions, has managed to remain a place where Muslim and Christian meet without the existence of one being conditional upon the elimination of the other. This is not a romantic image of Lebanon. It is one of the most important reasons for its existence. That is why it mattered to us that the Vatican hear these words from Lebanese Shiites. Defending Lebanon’s formula is not the responsibility of Christians alone. And defending coexistence is not a concession made by a Muslim to a Christian, or by a Christian to a Muslim. It is a defense of the country we all share. And from Rome… I Was Thinking of the South Cardinal Pietro Parolin and Jad Akhawi. Throughout the trip, I thought a great deal about the South. Distance does something strange. Sometimes it allows you to see what you cannot see when you are at the heart of events. You think about the villages, the homes, the land, the people who have paid and continue to pay enormous prices, and about the question we must not avoid: How long will the people of the South continue to pay the price for decisions larger than themselves? For me, the state is not a theoretical idea. Nor is sovereignty a word suited only to speeches. I am a son of this environment, and I know what it means for a village to become a battlefield, for a home to become part of a military news report, and for geography, memories and family to be drawn entirely into the calculations of conflict. That is why I refuse, after everything that has happened, to return to the same equation and then expect a different result. The South needs a state. A state that is genuinely present on the ground. It needs an army to protect it, institutions to rebuild it, diplomacy to defend its land, and the decision to wage war or make peace to belong to Lebanon alone. What Did We Bring Back? Some people ask me: what did the visit achieve? We did not return with agreements. We did not receive magical promises. We had not gone looking for them in the first place. Nor do I like inflating political visits and turning every meeting into a “historic event,” as we so often do in Lebanon. But something was achieved. We told those we met, directly, that there are Lebanese, including Shiites, who reject the idea that the choice must be between Hezbollah and hostility toward the Shiite community. We reject that equation. There is another choice, and in truth it is the natural one: The state. A state that takes revenge on no one, that replaces neither one weapon with another nor one tutelage with another. A state in which Shiites, Christians, Sunnis and Druze can feel that the army is their army, the Constitution their Constitution, the institutions their institutions, and that the law does not ask about their sect before granting them their rights and holding them to their responsibilities. Returning to Beirut But perhaps the most important impression from the trip was the one I felt upon returning. When the plane lands in Beirut after days spent talking about Lebanon abroad, you look out of the window differently. This small piece of land over which we have fought for generations seems too small to bear all our grand projects. And too precious to lose. I returned from Rome and the Vatican more convinced than ever that the world can help Lebanon, but it will not build Lebanon in our place. Italy can help. The Vatican can offer support. Arabs, Europeans and Americans can stand alongside the state, the army and the economy. But no one in the world can make the most important decision on our behalf: That we ourselves want to become a state. Two phrases therefore stayed with me from the trip. The first was what I said as we entered our meeting with Cardinal Parolin: “Blessed are the peacemakers.” The second was one we carried with us from Beirut to Rome, and brought back with us from Rome to Beirut: “We are Lebanese before we are Shiite.” Between those two phrases, perhaps, lies the whole issue. To make peace rather than wait for the next war. And to build a country before we build the barricades of our communities. Because after Rome, the question is no longer what the world can do for Lebanon. The question has become more difficult: What are we prepared to do for Lebanon?

From New York, Sylviane Zehil As France holds the presidency of the UN Security Council in September, the General Assembly’s “high-level week” is taking place against a backdrop of existential crises and growing questioning of multilateralism. In this context, Paris intends to defend an international system “based on the rule of law rather than the law of the strongest.” Among the sensitive issues on the agenda is Lebanon, with an increasingly pressing question: what should be done about UNIFIL and, above all, how can a “security vacuum” be avoided if its mandate cannot be extended for the long term? Lebanese leaders who are in New York for the occasion will hold crucial meetings to address the issue, and Prime Minister Nawaf Salam has already discussed it with UN Secretary-General António Guterres. The 81st session of the United Nations General Assembly is entering its most intense political phase as France holds the presidency of the Security Council, which it assumed at the beginning of September, while also holding the G7 presidency this year. Ukraine, Palestine, Iran, Sudan, Lebanon, the Red Sea and Yemen: French officials will address a series of ongoing crises in New York, as well as broader issues ranging from artificial intelligence to international humanitarian law, not to mention the succession of António Guterres, which is already being worked out behind the scenes. The political framework Paris intends to set for the week is one of defending multilateralism. “At a time when multilateralism is being criticized in different ways, we remain strongly committed to multilateralism in general and to the United Nations in particular,” a senior French diplomat said during an off-the-record briefing on French priorities. One principle is expected to be reaffirmed in New York: “We believe in the strength of an international system based on the rule of law rather than the law of the strongest.” It is against this broader backdrop that the Lebanese issue must be viewed, as the question of UNIFIL’s future is now being raised directly at the Security Council. Maintain UNIFIL or Prepare for Another Presence? Asked during the briefing about Lebanon’s wish to keep the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon in place for longer, despite the resistance this option faces, the senior French diplomat initially confirmed Beirut’s request. “Lebanon has indeed asked for the Force to remain in place for a longer period.” France plays a particular role on this issue because it is the penholder at the Security Council. “France is the penholder on this issue, which means that we are the ones who draft and negotiate the text concerning UNIFIL,” he recalled. In the previous negotiations, Paris had succeeded in extending the Force’s mandate by a year and a half. But the diplomat pointed to a shift in positions within the Council. “There is a feeling within the Council that we should now consider a new United Nations presence rather than extend UNIFIL’s mandate.” Beirut, by contrast, is calling for UNIFIL to remain. And France says it is prepared to support that option if it remains politically possible. “If there is a possibility of extending the mandate – and France has expressed this position – we can support such an extension.” According to the French diplomat, the problem now lies in the balance of forces within the Security Council. “I fear there will not be sufficient support for a long-term extension or for maintaining a full mandate.” This assessment therefore opens the door to another possibility: a shorter extension that would allow the Force to remain for an additional period without prejudging the arrangement that might eventually succeed it. “If there is a possibility of extending UNIFIL’s mandate for a short period and with a sufficiently broad mandate, we will do so,” the diplomat said. But the briefing revealed above all that the discussion is already moving beyond the simple choice between maintaining UNIFIL and ending its presence. “I think the discussion is now moving more toward something broader: a United Nations presence, but also another type of presence, perhaps an ad hoc international presence.” The French diplomat, however, immediately brought the various options back to the objective being pursued rather than their modalities. “What is our objective here? Perhaps I should have started with that rather than with the modalities.” The answer can be summed up in a few words: “Our objective is to ensure that there is no security vacuum in Lebanon, in order to guarantee the sovereignty and territorial integrity of (Lebanon)…” For now, therefore, the common denominator put forward by France remains the one articulated by the diplomat himself: preventing the emergence of a “security vacuum in Lebanon.” A French Presidency Facing Multiple Fronts The Lebanese issue is part of a much broader agenda. On Iran, high-level meetings are expected in various formats, with the Iranian president and foreign minister present at the meetings. The French diplomat’s briefing placed the issue within a regional context encompassing tensions in the Strait of Hormuz, developments in the Red Sea and the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, as well as the situation involving the Houthis in Yemen. A Security Council meeting is also expected to focus on Ukraine, “given the situation and its deterioration,” particularly following the recent strikes near the Polish border mentioned by the French diplomat. Sudan will also be on the agenda of meetings in New York. Palestine: Two-State Solution Among French Priorities Palestine will rank “very high among the priorities of French officials.” Paris sees this engagement as a continuation of the New York Declaration and the resolution adopted by the General Assembly with 142 votes in favor of a text endorsing the declaration on the two-state solution. France considers developments on the ground to have made the issue urgent. “Given the challenges facing the two-state solution on the ground, this issue is one of the concerns of French officials,” the senior diplomat said. Artificial Intelligence, Another Major Issue at UNGA81 Beyond the crises, artificial intelligence ranks “very high on the French agenda,” with two distinct concerns. The first relates to the impact of AI and, more broadly, digital technology on children. “There is no question of denying the benefits of artificial intelligence, but we are seeing serious concerns about its impact on children,” the diplomat explained. The second aspect is much more directly related to security. Paris wants to open a discussion on the risks associated with the development of AI, particularly “the existential threat that AI could pose to humanity as a whole.” In this regard, the senior diplomat pointed to concerns expressed by several executives of technology companies specializing in AI about both this potential threat and cyber risks. Humanitarian Law Amid a Proliferation of Conflicts International law and human rights are another area of concern for France. Paris is working with Jordan, South Africa, Brazil, China, Kazakhstan and the International Committee of the Red Cross on an initiative aimed at promoting respect for international humanitarian law. The initiative stems from a particularly troubling assessment: “Not only are we seeing an increase in the number of international conflicts, but we are also seeing an extremely worrying rise in non-compliance with international humanitarian law.” The law, the diplomat recalled, lays down the “fundamental rules applicable to war.” A summit on the issue is scheduled to take place in Amman in December. Veto Use in Cases of Mass Atrocities France also intends to use the General Assembly to give fresh impetus to its joint initiative with Mexico to encourage permanent members of the Security Council to voluntarily limit their use of the veto in situations involving mass atrocities. Launched in 2013 after Security Council deadlocks despite atrocities being committed on the ground, the initiative had, the diplomat acknowledged, “fallen relatively dormant in recent years.” But renewed Franco-Mexican efforts have helped revive the momentum. Some 123 of the UN’s 193 member states now support the initiative. “Symbolically, we would like to surpass the threshold of 129 states,” the diplomat explained – the equivalent of two-thirds of the General Assembly. The aim is also to secure the support of permanent members of the Council, although this remains, he acknowledged, “obviously more delicate.” Guterres’ Succession in the Background Finally, another upcoming deadline is likely to be at the center of consultations in New York: the selection of the next United Nations secretary-general. António Guterres’ term will end on December 31. The Security Council is therefore in the midst of consultations and indicative votes, known as straw polls, intended to gauge support for the various candidates. The succession is expected to be a central topic of discussions on the sidelines of the official meetings.

The abolition of the death penalty in Lebanon is not the result of steps taken in 2026. It is the culmination of a long political and legal process, marked by successive initiatives, deadlocks and years of debate. Two figures in particular led this fight: former Justice Minister Ibrahim Najjar and former MP and Lebanese Forces executive council member Élie Keyrouz. For Najjar, it all began in 2008, when he was appointed justice minister. As for Keyrouz, his campaign notably took shape through a bill he submitted in 2012. It would be 14 years before Lebanon finally abolished capital punishment. Much would change between these two milestones, in 2008 and 2012, but their convictions would remain unchanged. When Najjar was being considered for a government post in 2008, he asked for the Justice Ministry, in keeping with his legal background. Upon taking office, the chief clerk handed him a file bearing the signatures of former officials and asked him to sign off on the execution of 17 people sentenced to death. “My reaction was immediate: ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ I told him, ‘No, I’m not signing.’” Najjar stresses that he was unequivocal. He then called Judge Chucri Sader, who was then head of the Legislation and Consultation Department at the ministry – and had previously been his student – and asked him to draft a bill abolishing the death penalty. “The next day, I had it in my hands.” Yet this decision did not come from a longtime activist committed to the “abolitionist” cause. Najjar says he had never been a human rights activist. Until then, the issue of capital punishment had seemed relatively abstract to him. His philosophical, literary and legal education had nevertheless made him receptive to Emmanuel Mounier’s ideas on personalism and the supreme dignity of the human person. “I had never imagined that I would be confronted with such a decision as soon as I took office,” he says. His bill called for the death penalty to be commuted to life imprisonment with hard labor. At the time, he did not even know how many people sentenced to death were being held in Lebanese prisons. He only knew that 17 executions were being considered. A Philosophical and Personal Conviction His position soon went beyond the legal question. “It was a philosophical and personal conviction, quite apart from religion,” Najjar says. “I don’t think I could ever have made the decision to execute someone. I could not imagine one person sentencing another to death, in Lebanon or anywhere else. For me, it was an absolute conviction.” That conviction also brought him face to face with the most difficult question: what should be done when the person sentenced to death has committed a particularly serious crime? Najjar says he reflected on the horror of executing a person. “I could not imagine putting someone to death, whatever the reason,” he says. He did not yet know that this decision would lead him to join the international abolitionist movement. He gradually discovered the breadth of the debate in Europe and elsewhere in the world, as well as the role played by states and international organizations in advancing the abolition of the death penalty. In Lebanon, however, winning support was far from a given. Najjar presented his position to his political allies, including the Lebanese Forces, and secured the backing of the party’s leader, Samir Geagea. With that support, he convened representatives of the various parliamentary blocs and held three meetings in an effort to rally MPs behind his bill. He soon discovered that views were far from uniform. His predecessor as justice minister, Bahige Tabbara, supported the death penalty, as did former Prime Minister Salim Hoss, although Hoss had refused to personally sign an execution order, leaving it to his deputy prime minister, Michel Murr, to do so instead. “For me, if you oppose an execution, you have to stand by that opposition to the end,” Najjar says. He knew, however, that Druze leader Kamal Joumblatt supported abolishing the death penalty. He later discovered that other prominent figures had already championed the cause. The debate also had deeper and more painful roots: in 2004, under President Émile Lahoud, two men sentenced to death were publicly executed in Baabda. The Lack of Support Najjar therefore presented his bill to the various parliamentary blocs and asked them to support it. But, he says, what characterized the debate was not open opposition so much as a lack of support. “Most of the Muslim blocs told me they would study the issue and seek the views of the mufti or other religious authorities,” he adds. “So I did not secure broad support. Most of the Christian blocs backed the initiative, as did the Druze.” The debate then moved into the public arena. On October 10, International Day Against the Death Penalty, the French Embassy, under the late Ambassador Denis Pietton at the time, invited him to speak. Najjar declared that he would never sign a death sentence or carry out the execution of anyone sentenced to death. That was when he realized that his position would bring him into contact with abolitionist movements, international organizations and several states. A few days later, a high-level Spanish delegation asked to meet with him. Najjar initially assumed it wanted to discuss the Special Tribunal for Lebanon (STL), which was then dominating the news. Instead, the delegation asked him about his position on abolishing the death penalty. It had previously met with President Michel Sleiman, Parliament Speaker Nabih Berri and Prime Minister Fouad Siniora on the same issue. Najjar later learned that President Sleiman had refused to support the abolition of capital punishment, citing, among other reasons, crimes committed by terrorists against Lebanese soldiers in Tripoli’s main square. Fouad Siniora, for his part, reportedly invoked Islam’s position on the death penalty. Berri, meanwhile, reportedly said that if Parliament passed a law abolishing capital punishment, he would accept it, without expressing his own personal position. “That was when I realized just how difficult it would be to get my bill passed,” Najjar recalls. The International Experience The context surrounding the Special Tribunal for Lebanon also contributed to shaping his thinking. Najjar says he learned that, when the STL was being established, France and the United Nations had insisted that the tribunal not apply the death penalty provided for under Lebanese law. “That gave me a great deal to think about,” the former minister recalls. “In the case of Rafic Hariri’s assassination, Lebanon had agreed that the tribunal would not be able to impose the death penalty provided for under its laws.” At the same time, the issue was raised with him directly in the Council of Ministers. Hezbollah’s representative in the government, Mohammad Fneich, challenged him over his refusal to sign an execution order. “Mr. Minister, how can you allow yourself not to sign an execution when the law provides for it? You are obliged to enforce the law,” Mohammad Fneich told him. Najjar’s response was unequivocal: “I will not sign, whatever the consequences.” The bill was ultimately not adopted. Najjar describes the response in terms of “a lack of support” and criticism rather than any real confrontation. “The bill was, in a sense, dead, but it had existed and it had raised the question,” he notes. But that first battle did not end with his departure from the ministry. A few days after the Spanish delegation’s visit, Spanish Prime Minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero invited him, at the request of Federico Mayor and Robert Badinter, to join the International Commission Against the Death Penalty. He accepted and joined the commission alongside, among others, Badinter, Mayor and Mohammad Bedjaoui. He gradually became one of its senior officers and is now its vice president. The international experience also changed the way he viewed the issue. “Over time, I came to understand that the death penalty was at once a political, legal, humanist and humanitarian issue.” In this regard, he notes that capital punishment can be used by some nondemocratic regimes as a means of governing through fear, targeting opponents or other groups. He studied the practices of several countries, including Syria, Iran, Egypt, Japan, China and the United States. He also observed that some Muslim countries may want to abolish the death penalty but fear that such a decision would be seen as a repudiation of their traditions. Even so, he considers the international shift irreversible. More than 145 countries have now abolished the death penalty in law or in practice. “In my view,” he says, “abolition should meet the same fate as slavery did in the 19th century: it must be abolished everywhere.” In this regard, he recounts trying to travel to Iran to argue for this position. “They always refused to receive me. They did so politely, certainly, but they refused.” Élie Keyrouz’s Initiative In Lebanon, meanwhile, other figures continued the fight. Among them was Élie Keyrouz, a former MP and member of the Lebanese Forces’ executive council, who introduced a bill to abolish the death penalty in his own name and on behalf of the Lebanese Forces parliamentary bloc. He had also sent the media a written statement on March 4, 2009, explaining why the penalty should be abolished, before submitting another bill on March 6, 2012. For Keyrouz, the initiative was not prompted by any particular political, social or legal circumstances. It was rooted in a fundamental principle: the death penalty violates the right to life, which he considers “an absolute and immutable right.” He also invoked the Lebanese Constitution, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, developments in international law and the philosophy of punishment. Another argument was, in his view, essential: once a condemned person has been executed, a miscarriage of justice can never be corrected. “Abolishing the death penalty remains fundamental to justice, because we do not believe in a justice that tortures and kills,” he stresses. His thinking was also shaped by his Christian conception of the human person. “I started from the Church’s understanding of the death penalty, which stems from its view of the human being,” he explains, arguing that a person retains a dignity that cannot be reduced to the crime they have committed. For Keyrouz, abolition was also intended to help modernize Lebanese law and bring it into line with international developments. But another 14 years would pass before the initiative finally came to fruition. “We were 14 years behind, and we are behind in everything we do,” Élie Keyrouz says. He recalls that the bill remained for years before Parliament’s Administration and Justice Committee, awaiting placement on the agenda of a plenary session. Keyrouz cites the example of France, where the death penalty remained in place for two centuries before being abolished in 1981 under François Mitterrand, on the initiative of then-Justice Minister Robert Badinter. “Why this delay?” Badinter had asked French MP’s. For Keyrouz, the question resonates today with Lebanon’s own experience. In 2026, the process finally reaches its conclusion. A Combination of Influences Najjar describes the abolition of the death penalty as “almost a miracle.” In this context, he stresses that the amnesty adopted in Lebanon was not sufficient on its own. “It had to be accompanied by the abolition of the death penalty, because once a death sentence has been handed down, it cannot simply be covered by a general amnesty.” He sees the reform’s eventual success as the result of “a combination of influences”: the government, the justice minister, associations and the various actors who had worked on the issue over the years. For him, the role played by Parliament’s Administration and Justice Committee was one of the most significant moments in this final stage. The president of the Beirut Bar Association had asked him to represent the bar in Parliament. Najjar attended the committee meeting and, he says, was surprised to discover a level of unanimity that had seemed almost unimaginable to him. “I was surprised to see that the miracle was happening: the roughly 40 MPs and other figures present were unanimously in favor of abolition,” Najjar recalls. “I cannot tell you how happy and delighted I was…” On June 1, while in Madrid for a meeting of the International Commission Against the Death Penalty, he announced to his colleagues that the abolition of capital punishment in Lebanon was imminent. It was eventually enacted and published in the Official Gazette. Najjar also points with satisfaction to the fact that he had asked for Article 1 of the law to use the wording chosen by Robert Badinter in France in 1981: “The death penalty is abolished.” For him, one further step remains: enshrining the abolition in the Constitution. Meeting Pope Francis The legislative victory did not, however, bring his fight entirely to a close. Najjar also reflects on the sentence that comes in place of capital punishment and criticizes the introduction of life imprisonment without parole. This issue brings him back to another important moment in his international career: his meeting with Pope Francis at the Vatican in December 2019, in the presence of a delegation that included heads of government, presidents and former justice ministers. Najjar recalls two things in particular from the 50-minute meeting. The first was the Catholic Church’s support for abolishing capital punishment and the pope’s decision to instruct that the abolition of the death penalty be incorporated into the Catechism. The second was a discussion about life imprisonment without parole. For Pope Francis, Ibrahim Najjar recalls, when a person is sentenced to a life term from which they can never be released, the possibility of redemption disappears. The sentence can then become, in a sense, a form of civil death. It is on this basis that Najjar is now calling for life imprisonment without parole to be removed from Lebanese law. In his view, abolishing the death penalty does not mean doing away with punishment. It reflects a different conception of justice: punishing crime without permanently taking a person’s life and without closing off any possibility of rehabilitation. Keyrouz shares this view of abolition as a step forward for civilization. He now believes that Lebanon should show other Arab countries that a state can abolish capital punishment without giving up on justice. Najjar, for his part, believes that the fight he began in 2008 has finally reached its culmination, without erasing the years of criticism and resistance along the way. “I never backed down or hesitated,” Najjar says. “For me, abolishing capital punishment is a civilizational achievement, and Arab countries must now follow our example.” He refers to a recent invitation to travel to Malaysia and meet with the prime minister to present the Lebanese experience. But former minister Najjar also wants to emphasize that those who championed the cause over the years are not limited to those now standing at the finish line. “The good has been done, and I am very proud and happy about it,” he says. He adds: “One day, history will know whom to remember.” His thoughts finally turn to the criticism he faced over the years. He says, in particular, that he was criticized by people close to Raymond Eddé, whose position on the death penalty was different. But, he notes, attitudes have changed profoundly. “A lot has changed over the past 75 years,” he says. “We have come to understand that the death penalty can be used as a means of governing and concealing the shortcomings of those in power.” He sums up, in a few words, what has remained at the heart of his commitment since that day in 2008, when he refused to sign off on the 17 executions: “We must not confuse governing with killing. We must have the courage to govern well, and the courage not to kill.”

Levant Time received the following statement from the family of the late former minister and MP Hassan Rifaï, who passed away on September 3, 2025. We reproduce it in full: On the first anniversary of Hassan Rifaï’s passing, a man who devoted most of his life to defending Greater Lebanon, and at a time when debate is intensifying over the need to amend Lebanon’s political system, it is important to recall some of his reflections and positions on the Taif Agreement and the constitutional amendments that stemmed from it. 1. The Taif Agreement is a Syrian-American agreement concluded under an Arab umbrella, in terms that were for the most part Lebanese. (1989) 2. If the Taif “reforms” are implemented, they will be a disaster; if they are not, a catastrophe. (1989) 3. The Taif Agreement transformed the exercise of power in Lebanon from a two-headed conflict into a multi-headed war that paralyses and nullifies the exercise of power, against a backdrop of confusion and overlapping prerogatives. This is why, even before its adoption, Hassan Rifaï had called for Taif to be reconsidered, so as not to bequeath to future generations the worst of political systems. (1989-1990) 4. The Taif Agreement was concluded in 1989 under the pressure of internal wars and Syrian bombardment. Any new revision of the Constitution must not take place under similar circumstances, under the pressure of internal conflict or an external war. 5. The provisions of the National Accord Document (“Taif”) that were not formally enshrined in constitutional provisions have no binding legal or constitutional force and remain mere recommendations. 6. It is incorrect to claim that executive power was vested in the President of the Republic and that the Taif Agreement stripped him of it. Since 1943, presidential practice had rested on a transgression of the conventions of the democratic parliamentary system. 7. “Where responsibility lies, there lies power” (Léon Duguit). Since the President of the Republic is not politically responsible (Article 60 of the Constitution), responsibility rests with the government, its president and its ministers, who fall if they lose the confidence of the Chamber of Deputies or under pressure from the street. 8. Before the Taif Agreement, Presidents of the Council sought to accommodate Presidents of the Republic who exercised prerogatives that were not theirs. The Presidents of the Republic gained nothing from this; Lebanon, however, lost. Those who surrendered some of their prerogatives also lost, and Lebanon with them. (1988) 9. There is no legal definition of the formula “Any authority that contradicts the pact of communal coexistence is illegitimate,” set forth in paragraph (j) of the Preamble to the Constitution, which now serves as a pretext for the heresy of a spurious and wholly fabricated “mithaqiyya.” 10. The monopoly on legitimate violence belongs to the State. It constitutes the very foundation of any State. There is no need to invoke the provisions of the Taif Agreement to justify this principle. 11. Neither today nor in the foreseeable future can there be any question of contemplating the abolition of political confessionalism. 12. The Senate was introduced into the Taif Agreement to satisfy the Druze community. Yet its creation would impede the legislative process and serve no useful purpose. (1989) 13. Administrative decentralisation cannot be contemplated before a strong central State has been established, failing which the country would fragment into antagonistic cantons. (1981) 14. For our republican, democratic and parliamentary system to function properly, it needs an electoral law reflecting the nature of the Lebanese people: small constituencies and a majoritarian voting system, given the absence of genuine political parties. 15. By virtue of his election to a fixed four-year term, the Speaker of the Chamber of Deputies has departed from the impartiality inherent in his office; likewise, the heresy of “mithaqiyya” has enabled him to interfere in the functioning of the executive branch. 16. The constitutional amendments made no mention of decentralisation. Paragraph (g) of the Preamble to the Constitution, however, provides that “the balanced development of the regions, culturally, socially and economically, is a fundamental pillar of the unity of the State and the stability of the system.” In other words, the failure to develop the regions threatens the stability of the country. (1968-1981) 17. The Taif Agreement does not require national unity cabinets bringing together all opposing parties. Nor does it impose a consensual democracy requiring agreement among them, at the risk of undermining the proper functioning of democratic life. 18. The authorship of the “blocking third” in the Constitution resulting from the Taif Agreement belongs to a Lebanese faction that sought to prevent the Council of Ministers from adopting decisions unacceptable to the President of the Republic. 19. Article 95 of the Constitution resulting from the Taif Agreement provides that the abolition of confessionalism in the civil service, for categories below the first category, must respect the “requirements of national accord.” This vague formula made it possible to paralyse the “transitional period” provided for in that same article. 20. The “blocking third” rests on four mechanisms: the quorum for meetings of the Council of Ministers, which requires the presence of two-thirds of the ministers; fundamental decisions, whose adoption requires two-thirds of the ministers; the government, which is deemed to have resigned when more than one-third of its members resign; the dismissal of a minister, which must be decided by two-thirds of the ministers rather than by the President of the Republic and the President of the Council who appointed him. 21. Even before 1943, most political leaders were beholden to foreign States and their diplomatic missions, thereby inviting foreign intervention in all our national affairs. This remains the case today. 22. After seventy-five years of public life, Hassan Rifaï reached this conclusion: the problem lies with politicians; the solution lies with statesmen, of whom the country is today bereft. (2018)

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

After more than five weeks of war, Washington and Tehran have agreed on a two-week ceasefire in exchange for a reopening of the Strait of Hormuz, just over an hour before the expiration of Donald Trump's ultimatum threatening to destroy the Islamic Republic. Tehran indicated at dawn on Wednesday that talks would take place starting Friday with Washington. These discussions will be held in Pakistan, a key mediator in the Middle East war. Israel has accepted the ceasefire with Iran, according to a White House official speaking on condition of anonymity. "Following discussions with Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Marshal Asim Munir of Pakistan, during which they asked me to suspend the military intervention planned for tonight against Iran, and provided that the Islamic Republic of Iran accepts the TOTAL, IMMEDIATE and SECURE OPENING of the Strait of Hormuz, I agree to suspend bombings and attacks against Iran for a period of two weeks," the American president wrote on his Truth Social platform. The latest in a series of ultimatums issued by Donald Trump to Iran and repeatedly pushed back, gave Tehran until 8:00 PM Washington time (midnight GMT) to reopen the strategic maritime passage, through which 20% of the world's crude oil passed before the war. "This will be a reciprocal CEASEFIRE!" added Mr. Trump, according to whom the United States "has already achieved and surpassed all our military objectives" since the launch of American-Israeli strikes on February 28. He also reported "very advanced" discussions towards a "long-term" peace agreement with Iran. Tehran submitted "a 10-point proposal" which "constitutes a viable basis for negotiation." The White House spokesperson stated the United States is considering "in-person discussions" with Iran, "but nothing is final until the President or the White House announces it," added Karoline Leavitt. Iranian ten-point plan For their part, Iranian leaders confirmed that they agreed to reopen the Strait of Hormuz "for a period of two weeks" "if attacks against Iran cease," Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi wrote on X. "It has been decided at the highest level that Iran will engage, for a period of two weeks (...), in negotiations with the American side in Islamabad," the Supreme National Security Council added in a statement. "It is specified that this does not mean the end of the war, and that Iran will only accept the cessation of hostilities when" negotiations have concluded, he added, stressing that these two weeks could be extended "by agreement of both parties." According to Iranian media, the ten-point plan submitted to the United States provides for Washington to accept the continuation of Tehran's uranium enrichment program and the lifting of all sanctions. The plan, published by the Supreme National Security Council, includes "the principle of non-agression, continued Iranian control of the Strait of Hormuz, acceptance of enrichment, the lifting of all primary sanctions, and the lifting of all secondary sanctions," Iranian state television and Mehr agency reported. Iran also demands the cessation of resolutions against the Islamic Republic voted by the UN Security Council and by the Board of Governors of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), the payment of compensation to Iran, the withdrawal of American military forces from the region, and the cessation of fighting on all fronts, including that of southern Lebanon, where Hezbollah has drawn the country into the war against Israel. Ceasefire applies to Lebanon Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif welcomed the results obtained following his country's mediation, which is on good terms with all parties: "I am pleased to announce that the Islamic Republic of Iran and the United States, as well as their allies, have agreed to an immediate ceasefire everywhere, including in Lebanon and elsewhere, WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT," Mr. Sharif wrote on X, using capital letters at the end of his message. The Pakistani capital, Islamabad, will host delegations from both countries on Friday for negotiations aimed at reaching a "definitive agreement," he added. Pakistan has emerged in recent weeks as a mediator between Tehran and Washington, seeking to prevent a further escalation of the conflict in the Middle East. Mr. Sharif is notably one of the members of the "Peace Council" established a few months ago by Donald Trump. Shortly before the announcement by the Pakistani Prime Minister, an Israeli strike killed eight and wounded 22 in a cafe on the waterfront in Sidon. (Mahmoud Zayyat/AFP) Shortly before the announcement by the Pakistani Prime Minister, an Israeli strike killed eight and wounded 22 in the Lebanese city of Sidon, the Lebanese Ministry of Health announced on Wednesday. For its part, the Israeli army reported three volleys of missiles fired by Iran towards its territory, moments after President Trump's announcement. Oil plunges, stock markets soar The announcement of the agreement was extremely well received in the markets: oil prices quickly dropped by more than 15%, falling below $100 per barrel, even approaching $90, and the Tokyo and Seoul stock exchanges soared by 4% and 6% respectively at the opening.

It all goes back to 1998 — May 30 to be precise, the date on which Pakistan conducted its last nuclear test in the sands of Kharan, in Balochistan. The program, from the bomb to its entire development chain, had been financed by Saudi Arabia, with American and Israeli approval. Both capitals had consented to Islamabad joining the nuclear club in order to establish a strategic counterweight in the India-China-Pakistan triangle, at a time when Beijing and New Delhi had already crossed the threshold of nuclear armament. It was then that speculation multiplied around Iran's intention to develop a military nuclear program under civilian cover — a prospect that Tel Aviv and Washington deemed unacceptable. The Pakistani bomb, Sunni, was meant to impose a balance in the Far East; an Iranian bomb, Shia, would create an unprecedented balance of power in the Middle East, a region where Israel considers itself the foremost strategic actor. The directive imposed itself: Iran could not be allowed to acquire nuclear weapons. Tehran, for its part, never ceased to reaffirm the peaceful nature of its ambitions, with no military objectives in this domain. The question of a "Sunni NATO" resurfaces today with renewed insistence, in the wake of the Sharm el-Sheikh Peace Summit, where some one billion three hundred million Muslims gathered to proclaim the end of armed conflict with Israel, in exchange for the creation of a Palestinian state. This dynamic was part of the initiative launched by Donald Trump in the aftermath of the Gaza war — an initiative conceived in several phases, the first of which was to be the cessation of hostilities, before a civilian government could be established in Gaza. The process stalled there, unable to move beyond this first stage. A conviction then took hold, within the Saudi Kingdom in particular and the Sunni world in general: that Trump and the Israeli right do not genuinely desire the emergence of a Palestinian state, that the latter had convinced the American president not to go too far in his concessions to the Islamic states of the region, for fear that they would impose their conditions in the future — and that striking Iran remains the real priority. Internal tensions within the Republican administration are also visible on the question of the role the Gulf states might be entitled to play in the region. Trump and part of his inner circle were unsettled by the agreement Mohammed bin Salman reached with the Houthis in Yanbu without informing Washington; and then by his trip to Beijing, under the Biden presidency, which had resulted in an Iranian-Saudi rapprochement under Chinese auspices. Today, the crown prince and the Sunni actors of the region — joined by Egypt and Turkey — seek an end to the fighting and find in J. D. Vance, and in the Republicans who support him, allies committed to this cause. The idea of a Sunni NATO is therefore not without substance: it could pave the way for a degree of regional balance once the war is extinguished. If the Sunnis fare well in the region, the region as a whole will fare well. In the period preceding the Assad family, the Syrian Sunni bourgeoisie had brought Fares al-Khoury, a Lebanese from Kafr, to the presidency of the Damascus government; and Chawkat Choucair, father of Ayman Choucair, the Druze from Arsoun in Mount Lebanon, had been appointed chief of staff of the Syrian army. And of course, if the Christians — and with them the Shia of Mohammad Hussein Shamseddine's movement — fare well too, it is the entire region, and Lebanon with it, that will fare well also.

On 28 February, thunder rolled across the world – an abrupt and violent movement. Brutal, certainly. Unexpected? Not quite. The event had long been anticipated – yet its timing, scale and objectives remained unknown. The date is now clear. The scale, however, is still uncertain. As for the objectives – what do they mean for Israel and for the United States? Given the stance of the mollah regime toward Israel – and the foundations of power it has built at great expense to pursuit the goal of eradicating the country and paralyzing Lebanon – Israel is fighting for its survival. So, too, does Benjamin Netanyahu. The objective that follows is stark: eradication. The United States has an entirely different agenda. Negotiations with Iran had stalled – a familiar Iranian tactic. President Trump, accustomed to swift deals and frustrated by his interlocutors’ delays, had one aim: to eliminate a religious power with which it was impossible to negotiate a mutually beneficial agreement, starting with the United States itself. Along the way, he sought to avenge the 1979 hostage crisis, a wound that remained raw. The ultimate goal: to resolve the Middle East issue quickly and clear the way to focus on the Indo-Pacific. Could Netanyahu have pushed Trump’s hand? It’s a plausible hypothesis. For the White House, the objective was a quick victory without committing ground troops. For the Israelis, the approach is long-term. That difference promises to be a major point of contention. Russia: silent. Its focus lies elsewhere. Its positions in Africa, including Libya, are secure; its footholds in Syria (Tartus, Hmeimim) and Sudan (Port Sudan) are established. Only victory in Ukraine remains in its sights – a victory that will be sealed once negotiations with the United States guarantee recognition of Russian control and ownership of Crimea and the oblasts of Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia, which it has not fully conquered. Additional claims concern the broader future of Ukraine. President Putin’s stance makes it likely that Trump would support such negotiations. China: silent. Its main concern remains securing its supply of hydrocarbons, essential to maintaining its industrial power. The military successes in Venezuela by U.S. forces, and in Iran by American and Israeli armies – noting that both countries possess Chinese detection systems and air-defense equipment – do not prompt China to make a show of force, except – like the Russians – to insist on adherence to international decisions, which are otherwise ignored by both Iran and Venezuela. States that have sought protection from Russia or China after expelling other, perhaps imperfect but loyal countries, will find themselves at a loss if they become targets in the future, given the lack of a Russian or Chinese response to the offensive against Iran. The UAE Modernizes, Europe Absent What does the future hold for the BRICS+? Only time will tell. But those who claim to be protectors cannot afford to act solely as predators. Having freed themselves from Saudi tutelage – long burdensome and mired in conventional as well as economic stagnation – the Emirates have modernized, paving the way for a prosperous, globally connected future. They have secured strategic autonomy, and the contrast with Saudi geopolitics is evident on almost every front: Saudi Arabia is a strategic partner of Pakistan and backs Somalia’s federal government, while the UAE leans toward India and maintains a special relationship with the unrecognized Somaliland; in Sudan, Riyadh supports the regular army (SAF), whereas UAE backs the Rapid Support Forces (RSF); in Yemen, Saudi Arabia supports the internationally recognized government, the UAE the southern separatists; at sea, in the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, Saudi Arabia pursues a national security strategy, while the UAE has developed a network of ports and logistics hubs across the Indian Ocean. Finally, regarding Israel, Saudi Arabia has still not officially recognized the Jewish state, unlike the UAE, signatories of the Abraham Accords (2020). Saudi Arabia, aspiring to be a territorial and political power, seeks to establish a system of collective security. The Emirates, by contrast, aim for maritime and commercial partners. Two very different approaches to politics, international relations, and diplomacy. Two divergent global positions in terms of influence and action. Europe? Absent. Or at least inaudible. It had every reason and every opportunity to play a role – the capacity to do so was there. How could it, when part of Europe is focused on the East, hypnotized like a rabbit caught in a car’s headlights, while another, smaller portion looks toward the sea, the Mediterranean, and the Near and Middle East? A third part is incapable of action, viscerally attached to the United States, no matter the cost. And Iran in all this? Who is in command, who is leading, who has a strategy? For now, Iran attacks every country. In conclusion, the United States and Israel pursue different objectives at different tempos. There was a convergence of immediate interests. In the medium and long term, however, their paths appear to diverge sharply. Israel has no intention of negotiating. What, then, will become of Iran? Fragmented, fractured, Westernized? In any of these scenarios, the outcome would favor neither Russia nor China. As for the United States, fixated on its desire to see this reviled religious government disappear, it could not negotiate on its own terms. Now, the question remains: with whom will it negotiate?

Between the lessons of history and the pressures of war, the same question recurs: can an exhausted state defer its ultimate defeat through a difficult settlement, or does an agreement concluded under an imbalanced power dynamic end up weighing on sovereignty and stability for years to come? When states enter the hour of existential peril, the question is no longer how to win, but how to prevent total collapse. In this sense, the Lebanese debate currently unfolding around the initiative launched by President Joseph Aoun to open a path toward direct negotiations between Lebanon and Israel under international sponsorship goes far beyond the boundaries of ordinary political controversy, and raises a deeper question concerning the limits of what realism can achieve when the state itself is threatened in its cohesion and its capacity to survive. The initiative has generated a visible rupture between those who see in it a realistic attempt to halt the collapse and prevent the expansion of the conflict, and those who believe that any negotiation conducted under the pressure of arms and in a context of unequal power relations risks becoming a harsh settlement imposed on Lebanon, with lasting effects on its sovereignty and political future. In such moments, history returns to offer its precedents: that of states or political regimes that found themselves before a choice of extreme difficulty — that of accepting a painful agreement in order to avert total collapse. In the aftermath of the Bolshevik Revolution’s triumph in 1917, the new Russian leadership found itself confronted with a brutal reality: an exhausted state, a disintegrating army, an economy on the verge of collapse after years of world war. At that moment, Vladimir Lenin understood that the continuation of the war against Germany risked precipitating the fall of the new power before it had managed to lay its foundations; he therefore charged Leon Trotsky with negotiating an end to the conflict. The decision, however, did not impose itself easily. The Bolshevik leadership was divided over the nature of the stance to adopt. Lenin argued for accepting peace, however harsh and humiliating, holding that the priority was to save the revolution and buy the time necessary to rebuild the state. Trotsky, for his part, attempted to chart a middle course, one that would halt the fighting without requiring the signing of a dishonorable treaty, while a faction within the party, led by Nikolai Bukharin, rejected any settlement with Germany and called for continuing what it termed the “revolutionary war.” Military realities settled the debate swiftly. The German army resumed its offensive and advanced into Russian territory without encountering any significant resistance, compelling the Bolshevik leadership to accept the signing of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk in 1918. The treaty was severe: it forced Russia to cede vast stretches of territory and to sustain significant economic losses, so much so that it was described at the time as a shameful peace. Yet Lenin considered this step, constrained and provisional as it was, to be meant to protect the larger political enterprise: the survival of the revolution itself. And indeed, less than a year later, Germany was defeated and the treaty collapsed of its own accord, while the Bolshevik power succeeded in consolidating itself, waging the civil war, and emerging victorious. Since then, this episode has become a classic example in political history: that of accepting a hard agreement to save a project or a state threatened with collapse. This example is today frequently invoked in Lebanese political debates, particularly in the context of the open war with Israel and the catastrophic repercussions that have befallen the country. Lebanon is traversing a situation of extreme fragility: a ruined economy, a fractured social fabric, millions of citizens threatened with displacement or destitution since their cities, villages, and homes were destroyed — pressures of immense weight bearing down on the social fabric and threatening the unity and cohesion of the country. In such a context, some put forward the idea that political realism may sometimes require accepting difficult or unequal arrangements in order to end the war and prevent the collapse of the state and society. Others, conversely, reject this view and hold that any unbalanced agreement risks becoming a permanent diktat, entrenching the imbalance of power and durably undermining the sovereignty of the state. This debate is further sustained by a reading of Lebanon’s previous experiences with Israel, where successive stages of negotiation and understanding show that Lebanon’s margin of maneuver has narrowed progressively as the imbalance of power intensified and the state’s capacity to fully control the components of its strength deteriorated. From the May 17 Agreement, which carried broad political and security dimensions but collapsed before it could be implemented, to the April Understanding, which organized the rules of engagement without addressing the root of the conflict, through UN Security Council Resolution 1701 and the series of understandings and security arrangements that followed it in an effort to contain hostilities — the realities of the field and the political landscape pushed gradually toward conditions ever more restrictive of Lebanese room for maneuver. From this vantage point, some observers hold that the question concerns not only the nature of any possible agreement today, but also whether current conditions — harsh as they are — might remain less costly than those that could be imposed tomorrow should the military and political deterioration continue and the imbalance of power deepen further still. The Lebanese dilemma is bound not only to the conditions of a possible settlement, but also to the persistence of a political discourse that continues to refuse to acknowledge the limits of power and to conflate realism with surrender — even as the perpetuation of this logic risks dragging both society and state toward a deepening of collapse, and rendering the cost of any subsequent arrangement more severe for Lebanon, politically, economically, and in terms of its sovereignty. The difference between the era of Brest-Litovsk and our own lies, however, also in the nature of the international system. In 1918, no global institutional framework existed capable of sponsoring agreements or guaranteeing their implementation. Today, despite all the flaws and dysfunctions that afflict the international order, the existence of the United Nations and a network of diplomatic and legal mechanisms can provide a minimum of guarantees. In Lebanon’s case, international sponsorship, combined with Arab stewardship, could constitute a safety net for any eventual agreement, contributing to ensuring the parties’ commitment and reducing the risk of such an agreement collapsing or degenerating into a mere temporary truce. Yet any serious discussion of a possible settlement in Lebanon runs directly into the question of arms outside the framework of the state — the knot bearing the heaviest consequences in defining Lebanon’s negotiating position and the limits of its capacity to honor any future agreement. The presence of Hezbollah as a military force holding an operational decision-making authority that exceeds the institutional framework of the state renders any negotiation inherently twofold: a negotiation between the Lebanese state and Israel on one hand, and an unresolved internal debate over who holds the final word on matters of war and peace on the other. Without this contradiction being addressed, any arrangement risks remaining precarious, for the success of an agreement depends not on texts alone, but on the existence of a single authority capable of monopolizing sovereign decision-making and fulfilling the commitments that flow from it. It is for this reason that the question before the Lebanese today is not only whether a settlement is necessary or possible, but how to frame it within an international architecture that guarantees its durability and shields Lebanon from once again becoming the theater of an open conflict. For in the end, the problem is not that an agreement be hard, but that its rejection today should open the way to still harder conditions tomorrow. States are measured not only by their capacity to endure, but also by their ability to recognize the moment when saving what can still be saved becomes the very condition of their survival.

Israel sets as a precondition the disarmament of Hezbollah before any negotiations — a demand it knows in advance to be beyond the reach of the Lebanese state, since the decision of war and peace remains, to a very large extent, outside the framework of that state's institutions. Israel has nonetheless taken a notable step by appointing Ron Dermer as head of its delegation to negotiations with Lebanon — a senior official close to decision-making circles, and particularly to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. This appointment lends the Israeli move undeniable political substance and sends an unambiguous signal to the international community: Israel is ready to engage in a high-level negotiation process. By contrast, the Lebanese state is attempting to form a negotiating delegation that reflects the internal sectarian balances underpinning the political system. But this attempt quickly ran up against the complexities of Lebanese reality: Parliament Speaker Nabih Berri refused to name the Shia member of the delegation, conditioning his participation on a full ceasefire before any negotiating session. This comes at the very moment when Hezbollah has declared its rejection of any ceasefire before the end of the war against Iran, stating that it has committed all its capabilities to this conflict and will fight to the end or until victory is achieved. Such positions effectively close the door to any ceasefire in the near term and narrow the room for maneuver of any political initiative or negotiating process. They also lay bare the clear divergence between the logic of the Lebanese state — which seeks to contain the crisis through diplomatic channels — and that of the armed forces, which tie their decisions to a broader regional context that transcends Lebanon's borders. In light of these facts, Israel appears to have succeeded in scoring an additional point with international public opinion: it will come across as the party that demonstrated its willingness to negotiate by sending a high-level envoy, while Lebanon will appear as a state unable to unify its internal decision-making or meet the prerequisites for a transition to a political settlement. This perception, whether accurate or overstated, weakens Lebanon's negotiating position and makes it harder to defend its interests in international forums. In the final analysis, these developments reveal once again the depth of the predicament in which Lebanon finds itself, where a state of limited capacity collides with a military and political force that makes its decisions outside state institutions. In this context, any negotiating process or political settlement becomes hostage to regional balances over which Lebanon has no control. While the state strives to consolidate its place at the negotiating table, the real challenge lies in restoring the decision of war and peace to its constitutional institutions — for without that, Lebanon will remain a theater for the liquidation of regional conflicts rather than a state capable of defending its national interests.