Politics

In a particularly sensitive regional and domestic context, any assessment of the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF) must go beyond a simple inventory of aid received and equipment required. The real issue lies in examining the political, doctrinal and strategic foundations of the military institution itself. The central question is not so much what the army possesses, but what the state expects – or refuses to take responsibility for – it to do. Since the late 2000s, the Lebanese army has benefited from sustained international assistance, notably from the United States, the United Kingdom, France and other European partners. This support has taken the form not only of equipment deliveries and new infrastructure, but above all, of the introduction of a structured capability-development approach. The establishment of a joint capability vision with the United States marked a turning point, prioritizing the optimization of existing assets rather than the creation of entirely new capabilities. This approach, which led to the creation of a Capability Development Plan, rests on a fundamental distinction. Brigadier General (retired) Maroun Hitti notes that a National Military Strategy defines what the army should be able to accomplish in fulfilment of a mandate set by the state, whereas a Capability Development Plan is concerned with enhancing the effectiveness of existing capabilities. This nuance helps to explain both the progress achieved and the enduring limitations – particularly in key structural areas such as the introduction of drones, artificial intelligence and, above all, air defense, which remains non-existent. A Deliberately Avoided Question: Support the Army – To What End? At the heart of the debate surrounding this plan lies a question that appears simple, yet is politically fraught: what, precisely, is the mission assigned to the Lebanese army? From its earliest days – but particularly over the past two decades – international assistance, chiefly from the United States, the United Kingdom and France, alongside many other friendly nations too numerous to list, has spared the military institution a series of potential setbacks. Yet this support has never been anchored in a genuinely articulated and unanimously endorsed Lebanese national security and defense policy. Officially, the mission statements – endlessly repeated – are well known: preserving stability, countering terrorism, controlling and defending the borders, and ensuring internal security. Unofficially, however, the ambiguity persists, due to the presence of a parallel armed force, Hezbollah, which continues to benefit from enduring domestic political protection. In this context, strengthening the army without clarifying its mandate amounts to reinforcing an institution while simultaneously neutralizing its capacity for action. More troubling still, attempts to subordinate the army to Hezbollah amount to stripping it of its soul and substance, calling into question its very purpose. How often have one heard vainglorious speeches, grandly labelled “strategic”, confining the army to a role of internal policing – against the opposition, of course – while leaving territorial defense to Hezbollah? Since the latter’s setback, a new mission has been assigned to the army: to ensure the state’s monopoly on the use of force – in other words, to disarm Hezbollah. It is above all the practical execution of this mission that the conference due to be held in Paris in March 2026 will need to address, anticipating the scenario the army would face should Hezbollah refuse to disarm. The role of the legislature appears central in this regard. The systematic postponement of debates on national defense, their entanglement in committee procedures, and the constant invocation of an elusive consensus reflect less inertia than a deliberate political choice. International assistance therefore risks turning into a delicate balancing act: supporting an institution perceived as credible while denying it the political cover indispensable to the full discharge of its mission. This is one of the pitfalls facing the army in the run-up to the forthcoming support conference in Paris. The Suspension of a Major Strategic Upgrade This political ambiguity has had tangible consequences. The Saudi initiative launched in 2013, involving a $3 billion grant, provided a solid foundation for genuine capability-building, including naval assets and an air-defense system covering the first two tiers – artillery guns and MANPADS, up to an altitude of 6 km – designed to counter drones. The Saudi assistance would have represented a significant qualitative leap in Lebanon’s strategic security. The protection of political, strategic and operational decision-making centers lay at the heart of this capability. One cannot help but shudder at the vulnerability of the state’s decision-making centers, at every level, in the face of the capabilities now enjoyed by the various belligerents operating on the Lebanese theatre, while the army remains unable to respond. The abrupt termination of the Saudi project, following Hassan Nasrallah’s angry political and media intervention, illustrated the fragility of any military planning considering the regional and domestic political power dynamics. It also left both the state and the army exposed to new types of threats – notably the use of drones – without appropriate means of protection. The Transformation of War and the Technological Challenge Recent conflicts have profoundly altered the nature of warfare. Intelligence, technological superiority and the integration of capabilities through artificial intelligence have become decisive factors. Recent conflicts in the region show that actors suffering from a structural technological deficit find themselves at a lasting disadvantage. This transformation has restored to war something of its capacity to surprise. In this context, the question is not merely how to contain non-state armed actors, but how to enable the Lebanese army to attain a technological and doctrinal level that would ensure operational credibility and the initiative. At the same time, one crucial factor must remain at the forefront: the time required to convert funding into actual capabilities. This “time factor” is measured in years. To disarm Hezbollah today would have required preparations to begin in 2015 – and never to rely on Israel, or any other country, to do the job. The question now, therefore, is what kind of army Lebanon wishes to have by 2035. Capabilities, Human Resources and Strategic Illusions Reducing the debate to a mere list of equipment would be a serious mistake. An army is built around coherent capabilities, underpinned by personnel, a clear doctrine, a functional chain of command, and sustained political support. Efforts in capability development have certainly helped to maintain and improve existing structures, but these remain largely outdated amid the rapid transformations of modern warfare. Effective border control, surveillance of the exclusive economic zone, or the permanent deployment of forces on the ground all require available personnel who are trained, properly remunerated, and supported over the long term. Any ambitious mission – such as disarming a heavily armed organization – demands resources and political will commensurate with the stakes. This also implies a clear budgetary commitment from the state, notably through the allocation of a defined share of gross domestic product to defense and security. Clearly Identified Strategic Missions In an environment dominated by Intelligence, five missions stand out as pivotal for the future of the LAF: the collection and analysis of information; the defense and control of borders; the capacity for domestic offensive operations with a consistent certainty of success; deterrence; and interoperability with allied armed forces. When executed effectively, these strategic missions underpin the credibility, effectiveness, and long-term sustainability of the military institution. Political Cover and State Responsibility At the heart of the problem lies political responsibility. The state too often expects the army to carry out missions for which no clear and accountable decisions have been made. A gradual and positive evolution is discernible, marked by a questioning of certain implicit political coverages, yet the question of the political and security cost of this evolution remains unresolved. An analysis of Hezbollah’s main power bases – its popular base, strategic depth, domestic political protection, financial resources, and strategic communications – shows that only a fully assumed state decision, backed by genuine governmental coherence and a concerted dialogue within the relevant community, can create the conditions for effective military action. Such action would be capable of achieving the intended outcome and asserting the supremacy of the state. From Equipment to Sustainable Operational Capability Possessing equipment does not, in itself, constitute capability. For example, maintaining a permanent maritime presence 365 days a year, in all conditions, requires a clear organization and subdivision of national maritime zones, naval assets, specialized and technologically proficient personnel, continuous training, sustained operational maintenance, and infrastructure that represents a significant annual cost. Defense is costly, but vital, and prioritization becomes indispensable: the focus must be on fully consolidating existing capabilities before acquiring new ones. The cost should not unduly alarm public finances; spreading it over several years would be feasible, provided that a law in enacted to allocate a defined percentage of GDP to this purpose. This brings us back to the essential role of the legislative authority. Military Effectiveness and Political Coherence An examination of the aid, capabilities, and challenges facing the Lebanese army reveals a single constant: military effectiveness is inseparable from political coherence. Without a clear mandate, without accountable political and financial cover, and without an explicit national defense and military strategy, investments in military equipment and personnel remain largely sterile. Within this context, and according to Brigadier General Maroun Hitti, the foundational work undertaken over the past two decades within the army’s General Staff deserves recognition. Its rigorous approach to capability development has helped preserve the professional and operational coherence of the institution under extremely constrained political and financial conditions. Yet time is working against these measures: warfare is evolving faster than the army can adapt, and international assistance must take this into account. Nonetheless, this tribute to the military institution does not absolve the state of its primary responsibility. It alone has the capacity not merely to transform these technical efforts into a genuine national defense strategy, but also to assume responsibility for providing the Lebanese Armed Forces with clear directives and well-defined strategic options for the near future.

Paris, by Arthur Bassil Since the beginning of January, the Iranian diaspora in Europe has been mobilizing to stigmatize the Islamic Republic and the massacres perpetrated against the Iranian people. In Paris, this gathering is renewed every Sunday. Around 3 PM, Place de la Bastille, this Sunday, February 8, a sunny day in Paris. Approximately five thousand demonstrators are gathered around the Iranian flag adorned with the lion and sun to denounce the massacres perpetrated by the Islamic Republic. In addition to this strong symbol, demonstrators brandish images of the victims of these massacres. On January 8 and 9, 2026, exactly one month ago, the Khamenei regime committed the unthinkable: thousands of Iranians were killed in cold blood. Their crime? Having dared to demonstrate against the socio-economic crisis, but above all against the oppression that has plagued Iran for decades. This Sunday again, Iranians in France were not alone in the street shouting “close the mollahs’ terrorist embassy” or “Islamic Republic, we don’t want it, we don’t want it!” In the procession, French, American, Kabyle, and even Israeli flags could clearly be seen, “the only country in the world that is truly putting pressure for an attack against the mullahs’ regime,” emphasizes Mona Jafarian, co-founder of the collective Femme Azadi , who called for participation in this demonstration. The Franco-Iranian activist, under police protection, says she is disappointed by Donald Trump due to his willingness to negotiate with the Islamic Republic, but she believes that the conditions set by the United States “cannot be honored by Khamenei.” Ending nuclear weapons, ballistic armament, support for terrorist proxies in the region… All these factors would lead to the end of the Iranian regime. Mona Jafarian believes that in any case, these negotiations will lead to a deadlock and that the only solution lies in concrete aid that should be given to the Iranian people to get rid of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei.   Choose between the Iranian people and the mollahs Also present among the demonstrators, Saeed Amini, founder of the association Homa , banned from Iran since 2017 due to his political activities. He does not understand the inertia of European Union leaders who persist in not taking drastic measures against the Islamic Republic. He nevertheless welcomes the mobilization of European peoples and the world against the mollahs. “We expect good decisions from European states who must choose between the Iranian people and the mollahs’ regime,” he declares before calling on them to “side with the right side of History.” On many signs held by the demonstrators is the portrait of Reza Pahlavi. He enjoys very broad support among the demonstrators. Son of the Shah exiled in 1979, he presents himself as the alternative to the regime. For Yaël, a French citizen of Jewish faith present at the demonstration and founder of the Atlas collective (collective of Jews and Kabyles against Islamism), “democracy owes everything to the Middle East, which includes enlightened peoples, including the Kabyle, Israeli, Lebanese, and Iranian peoples.” She believes that Reza Pahlavi is supported by the Iranian people and that his political program is “hyper-democratic,” and therefore she supports him unreservedly. The demonstration ends around 7 PM, Place des Pyramides, at the foot of the statue of Joan of Arc. Samuel Davoud, an activist at the head of the procession, calls on demonstrators to join a large demonstration in support of the Iranian people scheduled for Saturday, February 14, on the sidelines of the Munich Security Conference.

“To hope is to defy the future.” – Emil Cioran This quote, photographed by Édouard Elias, was written by journalist Samir Kassir on a piece of paper two weeks before his assassination in 2005. It is among many personal artifacts Elias has photographed to preserve the legacy of victims of political assassinations in Lebanon since that date. These portraits and relics will be showcased in the photo exhibition “Remaining” , on the occasion of the 5th commemoration of Lokman Slim's assassination. The exhibition will run from February 7 to March 3 at Union Marks, Burj Hammoud, from 2:00 pm to 8:00 pm. The inauguration took place in the presence of a large crowd and several prominent figures, including MPs Marwan Hamadé and Michel Moawad, and former minister May Chidiac. This exhibition is a collaboration between photographer and photojournalist Édouard Elias and journalist and filmmaker Katia Jarjoura, curator of the project. It is produced by the Lokman Slim Foundation, with the support of the French Institute. A Bridge Between Past and Present “Remaining” tells the story of 21 assassination victims, including political figures, security personnel, writers, journalists, witnesses, and survivors. The photographs range from images of their loved ones and objects that were precious to them to the places and crime scenes where the attacks took place, creating an atmosphere of nostalgia and empathy. Inspiration and Tribute Katia Jarjoura reflects on the personal connection that inspired the project. “This exhibition is first and foremost a tribute to my dear friend Lokman Slim, who was tragically killed in 2021, but also to other victims of political assassinations in Lebanon who fought for a free and sovereign Lebanon, and paid for it with their lives.” The Value of “Remaining” Édouard Elias reflects on the title “Remaining”: “After someone’s death, there is always a feeling of absence. Because justice has not been served, these people are caught in an in-between state. They are still present; we have not yet removed their memories, taken down the hat on the coat rack, or put away the watch on the bedside table.” “In a country where the judicial system is weak and most crimes go unpunished, art can respond to or help fill this failure,” adds Jarjoura. “Remaining” is in essence, a way of saying ‘they remain,’ and ‘we remain with them.’” A Shared Humanity and Visual Approach “Remaining” is told exclusively in black and white. Elias explains this stylistic choice: “I chose black and white because the photographs deal with absence, memory, and the timeless nature of those who have passed away. I wanted the work to be formal, without color effects or stylistic interventions, so that each person is placed on the same level.” Using everyday objects and familiar settings, Elias invites visitors to see the shared humanity of these families and to reflect on how closely their lives mirror their own. Since gaining independence in 1943, Lebanon has experienced over 200 political assassinations, the vast majority of which remain unpunished. The Lebanese Civil War (1975-1990) severely weakened state institutions, while the 1991 amnesty law entrenched a culture of impunity that continues to influence political life. The assassination of former Prime Minister Rafic Hariri in 2005, followed by the establishment of the Special Tribunal for Lebanon (STL), marked a turning point, revealing political murder as a tool of Syrian-Iranian influence and undermining both Lebanese sovereignty and the rule of law. Who Was Lokman Slim? Lokman Slim was a Lebanese publisher, filmmaker, and political activist known for his outspoken defense of human rights, civil liberties, and the rule of law. He co-founded UMAM Documentation and Research with his wife, Monika Borgmann, to preserve Lebanon’s collective memory and encourage public debate. A staunch critic of sectarianism and political violence, Slim was assassinated on February 4, 2021, in Addousiyeh, South Lebanon. “Remaining” is an urgent call for responsibility and justice, so that Lebanon’s future is not restrained, but embraced with hope.

As the date of the international conference in support of the Lebanese army, scheduled for March 2026 in Paris, approaches, Lebanon finds itself at a critical juncture. This meeting, intended to mobilize the international community in favor of the regular forces, comes at an extremely complex political and regional time. Every decision or lack thereof by the Lebanese state regarding the monopoly of weapons, in particular, will have a direct impact on the effectiveness of international aid to the troops and, more broadly, on the very future of the army and national sovereignty. The chosen date, March 5, 2026, remains conditional, however. According to General Maroun Hitti, the conference could be postponed if a crucial step is not taken by Lebanon by then. This step consists either of a unanimous political decision within the Lebanese government, including Hezbollah and Nabih Berri’s ministers, for the State to take charge of the weapons issue and for Hezbollah to submit to its authority, or of a major regional event. This could be a cataclysm or an armed conflict that would force Iran to comply with the demands of the international community, thus altering the balance of power in the region. The Paris conference is thus not limited to a simple technical or diplomatic meeting. It is intimately linked to regional geopolitical balances and the strategic agenda of external powers. DDR as a central objective For General Hitti, the strategic objectives of the conference are clear: to discuss border control, which is a less contentious issue, and above all to advance on DDR (Disarmament, Demobilization, and Reintegration of Hezbollah). This is not merely a military endeavor but a major political and social challenge: How to reintegrate an ideological party like Hezbollah into Lebanese society so that it ceases to be aligned with foreign interests and becomes a fully national actor? General Hitti emphasizes that the objective is not to help the army wage war on Israel or to turn Lebanon into a theater of confrontation, but to rebuild the Lebanese state, affirm its sovereignty, and integrate all actors into a legitimate national framework. Prior Defeat He insists on a fundamental point: reintegration can only be achieved after a tangible and undeniable defeat. As he explains, just as happened with the Nazis in Germany after 1945, no armed ideological organization can be reintegrated into a society until it has accepted its defeat. General Hitti also specifies that a distinction must be made between Hezbollah's vain official discourse and the reality on the ground. According to him, Hezbollah is in distress even if this does not appear in its public communication. This dimension also shows that the Paris conference is not a meeting for the distribution of resources or the planning of aid to the army, but a strategic step aimed at creating the political and social conditions necessary for national realignment. The human factor: an underpaid soldier The Lebanese army plays a fundamental role in this context, hence the attention paid to its development. At the center of any discussion about regular forces, General Hitti places the man on the ground. Lebanese soldiers, often poorly paid, are nonetheless the true pillar of any envisaged operation. He insists on their salary frustration and considers it absurd to ask an underpaid man or woman to perform tasks that do not allow them to remain active and support their families. For General Hitti, the human factor must precede any consideration of equipment or technical and military capabilities, inasmuch as, according to him, a demotivated or absent soldier weakens the entire institution. The challenge is therefore twofold: to guarantee a decent income for military personnel and structural support for the Troops. According to General Hitti, the first pressing question donor countries should ask themselves is whether it is not a priority to start by ensuring that the Lebanese soldier receives a salary that allows him to leave his family with peace of mind because he has provided them with the means to live honorably. Or, is it possible for him to spend more time at home, at the expense of his presence at work and at the risk of a drop in operational readiness, and for the commanders on the ground to continue striving to alleviate a perpetual and cruel shortage of men? International aid: stabilization or real strengthening? For years, the army has benefited from various international aids: training, equipment, logistical support, even indirect salary assistance, notably from France, the United States, the United Kingdom, and other partners, following capacity development plans developed by the Troops. However, despite this support, the balance of power between the army and Hezbollah remains uncertain. General Hitti explains that the Lebanese army is multi-confessional and reflects the diversity of a liberal society, while Hezbollah is mono-confessional, ideologically indoctrinated, and benefits from strong internal cohesion and an extra-Lebanese doctrine. However, what may be considered an apparent weakness of the army can be transformed into a potentially considerable strength, provided that the State asserts its authority and makes unanimous decisions that will benefit from the support of Parliament. According to General Hitti, international aid will remain strategically sterile in this context as long as the question of the monopoly of force and the authority of the State is not settled. The resources provided remain useful and serve operational missions but will only become effective if the State assumes its responsibilities by granting a clear mandate to the army. Symbolism or concrete actions? General Hitti emphasizes that previous international conferences in favor of the army, initiated by Paris and Rome and approved by Washington, were truly effective tactically and operationally, while waiting for the Lebanese state to take control of strategic and political decisions. The March 2026 conference could reproduce the same pattern if it does not influence internal political blockages. Donors provide means and resources, the Lebanese state remains hesitant and ambiguous in its directives, and skeptical citizens and soldiers will continue to doubt the real effectiveness of any conference. General Hitti adds that no international aid, however generous, can replace political courage. Without a clear mandate, he says, and without a national vision (a national security and defense policy), the regular forces remain exposed, and the sovereignty of the Lebanese state will remain an empty slogan. General Hitti also insists on the need for a clear political appropriation of the army's missions. The State, he notes, must assume its decisions, even in the face of internal pressures and the risks posed by Hezbollah. This condition is essential to transform announcements of support into concrete and measurable results and to prevent the March 2026 conference from becoming another diplomatic ritual. A tipping point The Paris conference appears more than ever as a real potential tipping point for a Lebanon facing political, social, and strategic challenges. Its success will depend less on the material means promised by the international community than on the capacity of the Lebanese state to assert its authority, to demand the surrender of armed actors ideologically subservient to an external power, to unite its political bodies around a common objective, and to clarify the army's role on national territory, while providing it with the means to fulfill it. Without structural reforms and without recognizing the value of those who serve on the ground, even the best-organized conference risks remaining symbolic. Ultimately, the Paris conference will be a test of political and institutional maturity for the Lebanese State. It will measure the government's ability to translate its international commitments into concrete actions on the ground, to stabilize its armed forces, and to consolidate its sovereignty.

Analytical focus on the war in Sudan which, since 2023, has already resulted in tens of thousands of deaths and millions of displaced people, with a particularly overwhelming human cost in Darfur, where mass violence, sieges, and forced displacement have taken on a dimension that many international actors now qualify as genocidal. The Sudanese war regularly leads to announcements of mediation, imminent ceasefires, and “diplomatic windows.” At almost regular intervals, an international actor thus “rediscovers” the conflict, promises an initiative, or convenes talks. These sequences essentially produce political noise, and sometimes a temporary suspension of fighting on a specific front, but they never alter the structure of the conflict. However, the repetition of the same pattern does not constitute an accidental failure of diplomacy; it is the product of a deeper misunderstanding of the very nature of the ongoing war. The first deadlock stems from an erroneous reading of the conflict as a classic confrontation between two poles that could be brought to a compromise. However, neither the Sudanese Armed Forces nor the RSF are engaged in a logic of political negotiation. What they seek to preserve are not shares of power in a future state, but autonomous capacities for harm, networks, and exploitable territories. In this context, any mediation aimed at power-sharing or institutional transition appears unrealistic. The proposed ceasefires stem from the same illusion. They assume that the war has become too costly for the actors involved. However, paradoxically, the prolongation of the conflict remains rational for both sides. For the army, it allows them to maintain their status as the official representative of the state, obtain minimal international support, and contain the total collapse of the military apparatus. For the RSF, it ensures the continuation of economic flows, the consolidation of their territorial control in the west, and makes it impossible for a centralized order to re-establish itself against them. Developments reported at the end of January highlight a series of military advances attributed to the Sudanese Armed Forces, particularly in South Kordofan. The lifting of old sieges, the recapture of secondary localities, and the reopening of roads are presented as signs of a new dynamic, or even a gradual shift in the balance of power. But this interpretation needs to be put into context, as it corresponds less to a structural transformation of the conflict than to a strategic communication sequence aimed at several distinct audiences: internal support for the army, mobilization of regional sponsors, and restoration of military credibility undermined by two years of attrition warfare. On the ground, these advances remain costly, localized, and fragile. They affect neither the RSF's grip on Darfur, nor their capacity for remote harm, nor the general fragmentation of the country. Above all, they confirm a central characteristic of the Sudanese war: the increasing dissociation between visible military events and deep strategic dynamics. In this sense, the narrative of reconquest also participates in the war. It does not necessarily announce its end but becomes an additional instrument. To this is added a second, even more structural, impasse: the systematic marginalization of Sudanese civilian actors. Since 2019, they have been invoked, celebrated, then progressively excluded from all real decision-making processes. Diplomatic initiatives continue to call for a “return to civilian transition,” but without ever creating the material, security, and political conditions for its emergence. Civilians serve as a moral justification for processes conceived elsewhere, between regional sponsors and armed actors… This marginalization is not only a political injustice. It is an active factor in prolonging the conflict. In the absence of a structured and protected civilian pole, war remains the only audible language, and any attempt at internal political recomposition is, therefore, crushed between the violence of armed actors and the strategic indifference of their external supporters. The scenarios for ending the war discussed in diplomatic circles then oscillate between two equally problematic extremes. The first is that of a decisive military victory for one of the camps. However, this scenario is not very credible, inasmuch as no actor has the necessary capabilities to impose total domination over the entire territory without triggering a new phase of fragmentation or local guerrillas. An army victory risks reactivating peripheral rebellion hotbeds; a triumph of the RSF would institutionalize stateless mass violence, difficult to stabilize. The second scenario is that of a formal partition of the country. And, here again, the obstacles are considerable. An official partition would imply international recognition, stabilized borders, and durable economic and security arrangements. However, the current fragmentation is functional precisely because it remains informal. It allows actors to benefit from the rents of war without assuming the political costs of a new order. Between these two extremes, therefore, a third scenario takes hold, unformulated but de facto dominant: that of a prolonged conflict of variable low intensity, punctuated by peaks of extreme violence, and managed by regional actors who control its parameters without seeking to resolve it. This scenario is not an uncontrolled drift. It is the sad product of an alignment of interests. Regional powers find in it a field of influence, major international powers see it as a manageable peripheral conflict, and local armed actors find rents and strategic autonomy. As for the civilian populations, they pay the price. As always. We must then ask the question that few analyses dare to formulate explicitly: what would be the conditions for a real change? They are unlikely today, but not theoretically impossible. They would first involve a minimal convergence among regional sponsors on the need to stabilize the African shore of the Red Sea as an area of collective security, by abandoning the logic of spheres of influence. But this goes against the global logic de facto generated by Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, and Xi Jinping. They would then presuppose a credible reactivation of the international framework, capable of producing tangible costs for armed actors, beyond declarations and symbolic sanctions. Finally, they would require a massive and protected investment in the reconstruction of a Sudanese civilian pole as a real actor rather than a mere negotiation backdrop. However, none of these elements are present today. The Saudi-Emirati rivalry remains; the international order is more fragmented than ever, and Sudanese civilian actors are isolated, exhausted, dispersed. In this context, the war continues through strategic coherence. It is sad to note that Sudan has become nothing less than a brutal laboratory of contemporary forms of conflict: long, barely visible wars, embedded in regional rivalries, made possible by a permissive international environment. And as long as the Red Sea remains an area of competition rather than cooperation, as long as stabilization is perceived as more costly than instability, as long as violence can be externalized without major consequences, the war will continue. Inevitably, and for a long time to come. Because, once again, it is not spontaneous chaos, but a profoundly inhuman order, yet profoundly cynical for those who benefit from it. Read also on the same topic: Sudan's Collapse: War for War's Sake (1/4) Red Sea, Gulf, and Horn of Africa: The Regionalization of the Sudanese Conflict (2/4) Iran and Its Indirect War in Sudan (3/4)

Analytical focus on the war in Sudan which, since 2023, has already resulted in tens of thousands of deaths and millions of displaced persons, with a particularly devastating human cost in Darfur, where mass violence, sieges and forced displacement have taken on a dimension that many international actors now describe as genocidal. It seems necessary to analyze Iran's role in the Sudanese conflict alone, even though the latter does not present itself in the classic form of an identified sponsor, an overt political support or an assumed alliance. It is more diffuse, more indirect, but, in many respects, more structuring. Tehran is not a central actor in the Sudanese theater; it is a kind of strategic amplifier, inscribing the conflict in a broader regional architecture, dominated by the Red Sea and new forms of asymmetric warfare. For several years, Iranian strategy has been based on a constant principle: extending strategic depth without exposing itself frontally. This logic has been tested in Lebanon with Hezbollah, in Syria through the Alawite regime, in Iraq via Shiite militias and in Yemen thanks to Houthi ambitions. It therefore relies on networks, local relays, and transfers of know-how more than on visible deployments. Sudan, long peripheral in Iranian mapping, is gradually regaining a functional place in this whole. This return is explained first by the increasing centrality of the Red Sea. Since the outbreak of the war in Gaza and the rise of the Houthis in Yemen, the Red Sea has become an area of indirect confrontation between the Iranian axis and Western powers, as well as a major point of friction with Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. Attacks on commercial shipping, threats to energy routes, drone and missile strikes have transformed this maritime space into a direct extension of Middle East conflicts. In this context, Sudan appears as an area of depth, rather than a front. Its coastline, its ports, its grey security zones offer a useful backdrop, without requiring explicit political involvement. Iran does not need to control Sudan, nor even to have an official ally there. It is enough for the country to remain unstable, fragmented, incapable of durably securing its coasts and infrastructures. Evidence of a tactical rapprochement between Tehran and the Sudanese army has thus multiplied since 2024. Accusations of Iranian drone deliveries to the Sudanese Armed Forces, although systematically denied, are part of a logic already observed elsewhere, that of a transfer of capabilities rather than direct presence. Drones, due to their limited cost, flexibility, and psychological impact, constitute the ideal tool for this strategy. They make it possible to compensate for structural weaknesses without modifying the internal political balance. But it would be simplistic to read Iranian involvement as a mere occasional military support to the Sudanese army. Iran is not seeking to save the Sudanese state. It is not part of a stabilization logic. What interests it is the controlled disorganization of a strategic maritime space, which forces its adversaries to disperse their means and multiply theaters of attention. A strategy of subversion that is found, moreover, as a hallmark of Tehran almost everywhere in the Middle East. From this perspective, the Sudanese war thus functions as a saturation conflict. It is not an objective in itself, but an element of an enlarged conflictual landscape, where each peripheral crisis weakens the overall response capacity of Western powers and their regional allies. Sudan, like Somalia or Yemen, becomes a space where conflict is tolerable precisely because it is far from decision-making centers. This strategy finds a particular echo in the contemporary transformation of war. Drones, long-range strikes, and cross-border logistical networks make it possible to conduct conflicts of low political intensity but high human intensity. Thus, attacks against Port Sudan and targeted strikes against sensitive infrastructures demonstrate that even supposedly secured areas remain vulnerable. And this vulnerability is in itself a strategic message… For Saudi Arabia, this evolution is particularly worrying, insofar as the security of the Red Sea is a pillar of its economic, tourist, and geopolitical ambitions. Any prolonged instability on the African shore weakens this projection. Iran does not need to directly challenge Riyadh; it simply needs to contribute to an environment where stabilization becomes costly, uncertain, and politically risky. For the United Arab Emirates, the situation is more ambivalent. Their indirect approach to Sudan, based on networks and non-state actors, sometimes resonates with Iranian logic, without however being a matter of coordination. It is not an alliance, but an objective convergence of methods consisting in prioritizing flexibility, avoiding direct exposure, and accepting instability as a lasting parameter. Iran also benefits from the weakening of the international normative framework. In a system where the qualification of genocide, sanctions, and condemnations no longer lead to strategic rupture, room for maneuver expands. The Sudanese war then becomes an additional example of this normalization of extreme violence on the periphery, which objectively benefits actors seeking to delegitimize the liberal international order. Finally, one essential point must be emphasized: Iran has no interest in a rapid victory for either Sudanese side. A clear victory for the army, supported by Riyadh and Cairo, would strengthen a hostile axis. Total domination by the RSF, backed by Emirati networks, would produce another form of regional consolidation. Iranian interest lies in the in-between, in the prolongation of a conflict that prevents any stable recomposition. Playing on the contradictions of others ensures, by default, a victory for Tehran. Thus, the Iranian role in the Sudanese war is measured neither in square kilometers conquered, nor in official declarations. It is read in the duration of the conflict, in its ability to be part of a regional continuum of crises, in the way it contributes to transforming the Red Sea into an area of permanent tension. Sudan, in this interpretation, is neither an ally nor an enemy. Nothing but a vector; a space where war, stripped of any political finality, becomes one instrument among others of global strategic rivalry… The cynicism of realpolitik pushed to the extreme. Read also on the same topic: Sudan's Collapse: War for War's Sake (1/4) Red Sea, Gulf, and Horn of Africa: The Regionalization of the Sudanese Conflict (2/4) Next article: Sudan's War: Scenarios, False Settlements, and Strategic Dead Ends (4/4)

Following the Allied victory in the Second World War, the United States emerged as a superpower, shaping the course of the Western world. Its vast industrial machine was instrumental in securing the military defeat of fascism. In the first part of this analysis, we examine how the US established its model – not only through military might, but also by creating a new global economic, financial, and institutional order. In a forthcoming second part, we will consider the risks now confronting America. Many economists and commentators argue that the United States has entered the early stages of a secular decline. As outlined in the work of Russian economist Nikolai Kondratieff in the 1930s, global history unfolds through long economic and geopolitical cycles. These eras – often lasting between 60 and 80 years – are typically dominated by a leading power and accompanied by major technological revolutions and transfers of global leadership. From China around the year 900, to the Italian city-states of the Renaissance, to the British Empire under Queen Elizabeth I, successive cycles of world economic dominance have followed this pattern. The era of American global leadership broadly began after World War II. What we are witnessing today – both domestically and internationally – may be the early signs that this leadership is beginning to unwind within the coming decade. America’s Rise from “Emerging Market” to “Superpower” Before World War II, the United States was not yet the unchallenged center of global power. In many respects, it still resembled an emerging economy – powered by a new energy source, oil, and by transformative innovations such as the automobile and the telephone. It was a land of opportunity, driven by a more liberated entrepreneurial spirit than the dominant British Empire and the mature European democracies. The American model combined a “can-do” mindset, rapid industrial expansion, high growth rates, speculative dynamism, and the typical “risk-taking” investment posture common to emerging economies. As history repeatedly shows, emerging-market excesses often carry the seeds of their own crises. That trajectory culminated in the 1929 crash, followed by the Great Depression of the 1930s. At that time, real capital concentration and geopolitical weight still resided in Europe. The United Kingdom remained the anchor of the global order, with the pound sterling serving as the currency of international trade and finance. World War II: The Great Transfer of Power World War II changed everything. Europe was shattered. Asia was devastated. Tens of millions perished. Entire nations – including Germany and Japan – were physically, industrially, and institutionally ruined. The British Empire itself was critically weakened, and the balance of power shifted irreversibly. America’s initial isolationism, combined with its extraordinary industrial capacity and geographic insulation, allowed it to become the arsenal of the Allied world. The United States supplied everything from grain to cannons, from ammunition to ships and aircraft. The inflection point came on December 7, 1941, when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. The United States entered the war, first in the Pacific and then in Europe. The Allied victories – May 8, 1945, in Europe and September 2, 1945, in Asia – did more than end a conflict. They propelled the United States into the role of the dominant global power, succeeding the declining British Empire. The Post-War Order: America Builds the System It Will Depend On British economist John Maynard Keynes addressing the Bretton Woods conference in July 1944, which founded the global financial system with the creation of the IMF and the World Bank. (Staff/IMF/AFP) Through the Marshall Plan in Europe and a decade of oversight in Japan, Washington positioned itself as the provider of capital, the architect of reconstruction, and the reference model of Western modernity, capitalism, and governance. But America’s most consequential act was not merely rebuilding economies. It rebuilt the rules. The United States constructed an international order rooted in multilateralism, the rule of law, and institutional architecture designed to promote peace, security, and economic cooperation. Washington played a central role in shaping the institutions that defined the post-war world: the United Nations; the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund; NATO; and regional frameworks such as the Organization of American States. Over time, this architecture expanded to include bodies such as the World Health Organization, UNICEF, the G7, and the G20. This architecture was not moral symbolism. It was strategic infrastructure – and it became the scaffolding of American power. The Fall of Communism Cements America’s Role as the World Leader The collapse of centrally planned communist economies further consolidated American dominance. China’s opening in 1978 and the fall of the Soviet bloc in 1989 appeared to confirm the triumph of the American model. Francis Fukuyama famously framed this moment in The End of History and the Last Man as the final form of political and economic organization. For a time, American supremacy appeared indefinite. This dominance is often attributed to democracy. The reality is less comforting. The United States did not prevail primarily because of its democratic governance model. It prevailed because of the superior efficiency of its capitalist ecosystem, the productivity of private enterprise, and the stakeholder corporate governance system developed in Western Europe as early as 1602 with the Dutch East India Company – a system that is fundamentally not democratic. America’s economic efficiency won World War II. Conversely, the inefficiency of centrally planned economies doomed communist ideology long before political legitimacy collapsed. US President Ronald Reagan and Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev during a meeting in 1985. (Ann Ronan Picture Library/Photo12 via AFP) Democracy, as a political system, is structurally inefficient when it comes to long-term planning, structural reform, and strategic trade-offs – whether in the United States, Europe, or many developing nations. Examples abound: Germany’s abandonment of nuclear energy; France’s and Britain’s repeated failures to reform pensions and healthcare; or America’s lag in building infrastructure. But the broader argument is even more striking: the phenomenal rise of countries such as China and the United Arab Emirates over the past five decades is almost entirely attributable to their ability to function not as democracies, but as strategic corporations. They adopted Western private corporate stakeholder governance as their public governance model: – In China, the people are the “clients” and the Communist Party acts like the “shareholders” of the national enterprise. For the shareholders to remain in power, they need to satisfy the clients – as a private company needs to satisfy its clients to thrive, grow, and remain profitable. – In the UAE, nationals and residents are the clients, and the ruling Emirati tribes act as the strategic owners of the system. In both cases, ultimate decision-making power does not sit with clients or voters in a consumer-like relationship. It sits with highly skilled decision-makers who define a vision – and can implement it without being paralyzed by permanent pressure groups or unqualified political bargaining – under the control of their shareholders. China’s leap forward in technology, infrastructure, communications, research, critical minerals, solar power, electric vehicles, or high-speed rail has everything to do with the state’s ability to dictate industrial priorities and fund long-term national objectives at scale, in research, technology, and infrastructure. Likewise, the UAE’s rise into a global platform – where capital, entrepreneurship, and talent come to live, invest, and build – stems from proactive policies designed to create a stable, safe, tax-friendly environment for entrepreneurs, wealthy individuals, skilled workers, and researchers from more than 200 nations. Democracy Sometimes Elects Its Own Destroyers There is another, darker flaw inside democratic systems. Democracy can enable authoritarianism – not by force, but by consent. It allows demagogues to rise to power through the mechanics of elections, often by inflaming sentiment, fear, identity, and resentment. Then, once in office, they twist institutions and weaken counterpowers until democracy becomes procedural theater. From Hitler to Mussolini to Franco; from Erdoğan to Putin – history is clear. This raises an uncomfortable question: is the United States approaching such a moment? There are increasing signs that American democracy may now be facing its harshest stress test since its creation in 1776. When America Turns Against the Order It Built America’s power was never only military or economic. It was institutional. The United States embedded its strength into a world order it built through rules, alliances, treaties, and credibility. That system underpinned the dollar, U.S. capital markets, and America’s global leadership. But the moment the United States begins to treat that order as optional – or worse, as an obstacle to be dismantled – it is no longer weakening its rivals. It is weakening itself. Donald Trump’s “Make America Great Again” doctrine embraces isolationism and coercion: unilateral tariffs, withdrawals from dozens of international agreements, and sharp restrictions on immigration. These policies are reshaping not only America, but the international system itself. Here lies the core fault line of modern geopolitics. The renewed discussion of U.S. claims over Greenland is emblematic. Greenland is not just an Arctic landmass. It is linked to Denmark – a NATO ally – and embedded in the Western alliance framework. The issue is not territory. It is credibility. It raises a far more consequential question: has the United States now positioned itself above the rules-based order? And the moment that perception spreads, the consequences do not remain confined to the Arctic. They reverberate across every contested border, every fragile treaty, every alliance commitment, and every currency regime. It tells Russia that spheres of influence are legitimate again. It tells China that coercion is merely the natural expression of power – and that if Washington allows itself to use coercion against its own allies over Greenland, it forfeits the moral authority to deny Beijing the same logic over Taiwan. It tells middle powers that legal sovereignty is questionable – less a principle than a convenience, as recent events in Venezuela have demonstrated. And, far more consequentially, it tells America’s own allies that their security, their economies, and their trade ultimately rest not on law, but on the sole will of Washington. Davos 2026: The Turning Point Far from leaning into Donald Trump’s negotiating tactics, world leaders finally realized that they could no longer consider the U.S. a reliable partner – economically, militarily, and technologically. And the response was immediate. On January 27, 2026, the EU and India signed the India–European Union Free Trade Agreement, bringing together two billion people in a trade arrangement covering roughly a quarter of global GDP. Canadian, Australian, and European leaders are flocking to China to secure access to the world’s largest consumer market, and European nations are rethinking their military architecture to reduce their dependence on the US and on NATO. This is how international orders collapse: through a constant and cumulative erosion of legitimacy – where enforcement power remains, but the moral foundation evaporates. America’s dominance was never indestructible. It was conditional on one critical asset that cannot be manufactured with military spending or fiscal deficits: credibility. And credibility, once broken, cannot be rebuilt with slogans. We may have reached the point of no return… Next article: Has the United States’ long-term decline already begun (2/2) The fragility of the economy, a real danger

While diplomats debate Libya's political future in air-conditioned conference rooms, The persistent fragility of the country's expansive southern region poses significant risks not only to Libya itself, but also to neighboring states, most notably those within the African Sahel. The Fezzan region, spanning one-third of Libya's territory, has become a black hole of governance where state authority has collapsed, armed groups proliferate, and transnational crime networks operate with impunity. The numbers paint a devastating picture. In the Fezzan, 67% of households require humanitarian assistance—the highest rate in Libya. Nearly half resort to crisis-level survival strategies, selling productive assets or forgoing medical care. Youth unemployment reaches 52% in some areas, creating a generation with no stake in stability. Chronic electricity outages last up to 20 hours daily. Maternal mortality rates soar as 73% of health facilities operate only partially, forcing women to deliver at home or travel 150 kilometers for basic care. But these aren't just statistics, they represent the daily reality of 600,000 people whose suffering has been systematically ignored. Tebu and Tuareg communities face entrenched discrimination, denied citizenship and documentation that locks them out of political life and economic opportunity. The region that produces up to 30% of Libya's oil receives a fraction of the investment, fueling resentment that armed groups eagerly exploit. Dismissing the Fezzan as a remote problem would be a catastrophic miscalculation. This region is critical to Libya's survival and a critical node in a network of crises spanning from the Mediterranean to the Horn of Africa. The Sharara and El-Feel fields alone contribute significantly to the national budget. Disrupt the Great Man-Made River aquifers beneath the southern desert, and you cut off water and electricity to Tripoli and Benghazi. The stakes couldn't be higher. Beyond Libya's borders, the Fezzan has become a superhighway for every threat imaginable. Arms flowing through its 2,700 kilometers of porous borders fuel conflicts killing thousands across the Sahel. Fuel smuggling networks worth billions empower jihadist groups in Niger and Mali. The ongoing war in Sudan has transformed southeastern Libya into a corridor for mercenary mobilization, with fighters and weapons flowing toward conflicts in Ethiopia and Somalia. For Europe, the Fezzan region functions as a pivotal hub and transit point for irregular migration. The migration dynamics in Fezzan are shaped by a complex interplay of local, regional, and international factors, and while its role is central, it must be understood within the broader network of migratory routes and influences. Notably, Fezzan remains the primary entry point for human trafficking networks that contribute to humanitarian crises along Mediterranean migration pathways. From the perspective of the African Union, Fezzan represents the intersection of Sahelian instability and North African fragility, posing the risk of igniting a crisis with the potential to surpass current regional conflicts. The good news is that stabilization is achievable. The bad news is that it requires abandoning failed approaches and embracing comprehensive, locally driven solutions. First, governance must be restored through concrete legislative action. Libya needs a Southern Development Act establishing a Fezzan Stabilization Authority with real budgets and clear mandates. Local councils require fiscal autonomy and constitutional guarantees of representation, including reserved parliamentary seats and cabinet positions for the region. Tebu and Tuareg communities must finally receive the citizenship and documentation they've been systematically denied. Second, security sector reform cannot wait. A phased disarmament and reintegration program must offer armed group members real alternatives—vocational training, economic opportunities, and dignified futures. Border security requires a critical number of locally recruited guards equipped with modern technology, not corrupt checkpoints that facilitate the very trafficking they're meant to stop. Most critically, Libya needs tripartite border compacts with Niger and Chad for joint patrols and intelligence sharing. Third, economic revitalization must dismantle the war economy. A resource revenue-sharing law should guarantee that 20-25% of southern oil proceeds are reinvested locally through transparent formulas. Free economic zones in Sabha and Kufra can formalize cross-border trade, removing incentives for smuggling. Infrastructure investments—roads, solar plants, agribusiness—must create 5,000 jobs immediately, with targeted support for women and minority communities. Fourth, basic services must be restored to rebuild trust in the state. Quick-impact projects can rehabilitate roads, modernize water systems, and ensure 25% of national health budgets reach southern facilities. Every day of delay entrenches the cycle of violence and predation. Foreign fighters consolidate control. Criminal networks expand their operations. Young people lose hope and join militias. The international community faces a critical strategic choice: to invest in comprehensive stabilization through political engagement—rather than financial aid, given Libya’s high-income status—or to risk the exponentially greater costs of future state collapse. Failure to act invites the exploitation of power vacuums by criminal actors, potentially leading to humanitarian crises, military interventions, and regional conflict proliferation. It is therefore imperative that the European Union, African Union, United States, and United Nations elevate the Fezzan from a peripheral concern to a collective security priority requiring coordinated action. International partners must align their efforts with Libyan-led frameworks, offering technical expertise and diplomatic backing for difficult reforms. This transition requires a shift from piecemeal interventions toward comprehensive development programs targeting the structural root causes of fragility. While the challenges facing the Fezzan are significant, they are not insurmountable; with sustained political will and a commitment to inclusive governance, the region can be transformed from a security liability into a cornerstone of a stable and prosperous Libya. However, this transformation requires the abandonment of "quick fix" illusions or military-centric solutions. Lasting stability depends on the rigorous work of building legitimate institutions and fostering economic opportunity. The inhabitants of the Fezzan have historically endured resource extraction and systemic violence while remaining excluded from the decision-making processes that govern their future. Ultimately, the stakes of this engagement extend beyond the region; the recovery of the Libyan state, Mediterranean security, and the stability of the Sahel are all intrinsically linked to the trajectory of the Fezzan.

Analytical focus on the war in Sudan which, since 2023, has already resulted in tens of thousands of deaths and millions of displaced people, with a particularly overwhelming human cost in Darfur, where mass violence, sieges and forced displacement have taken on a dimension that many international actors now qualify as genocidal. Analyzing the Sudanese war according to the parameters of a conflict confined to the national territorial space would be aberrant, as the country's geography is a structuring factor. A Red Sea littoral state, backed by the Horn of Africa and located in immediate proximity to the Arabian Peninsula, Sudan occupies a strategic position that makes it particularly vulnerable to regional power projections. For a decade, the Red Sea has become an area of active competition again. Trade routes, maritime security, control of migratory flows, ports, military and logistical bases overlap there. The Yemen conflict, for example, is one of its most manifest expressions. So is the Sudan crisis. In this narrow but decisive space, the growing rivalry between Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, long masked by a rhetoric of strategic coordination, has gradually crystallized. Sudan is one of the theaters where this rivalry takes a particularly brutal form. The Emirates have favored an indirect approach, based on networks, non-state armed actors, parallel economic circuits, and logistical hubs. Repeated accusations of supporting the RSF, which Abu Dhabi officially denies, are part of this logic. The trade in Sudanese gold, the routes passing through Chad and eastern Libya, access to Gulf markets and infrastructure form a coherent whole that allows the RSF to maintain their war effort despite sanctions and international condemnation. This approach does not necessarily aim for the military victory of the RSF, but for their ability to endure, to remain an indispensable actor, and to prevent any stabilization that would not go through their networks. War thus becomes a lever of influence and a means to weigh on the regional architecture without exposing oneself frontally. Conversely, Riyadh favors a more classic logic of state stabilization. Support for the Sudanese army, often coordinated with Egypt, aims to contain the collapse of a Red Sea littoral state, to secure maritime routes, to limit uncontrolled migratory flows, and to prevent a lasting space of chaos from settling opposite Saudi coasts — because Cairo also supports the SAF with the aim of maintaining a state lock to the south against armed fragmentation dynamics and competing interferences — notably Emirati and Iranian — likely to challenge the security of the Nile and the regional strategic balance. A regional festering sore But if this approach is less flexible and more institutional, it is also more politically costly. The divergence between these two doctrines thus directly fuels the entrenchment of the conflict. Each Sudanese camp becomes the local relay of a distinct regional rationality, without either of the patrons having an interest in a clear victory likely to reconfigure the general balance. The Sudanese conflict then becomes a management file, not a problem to be solved. A kind of regional festering sore. To this regional rivalry is added a more discreet but decisive layer: that of Russia and China. Certainly, neither Moscow nor Beijing play a direct patronage role in the Sudanese conflict. Their influence is exerted elsewhere, in the background of the international system, by creating the conditions for a lasting entrenchment. Russia adopts an opportunistic stance. Without engaging frontally, it benefits from a weakening of the international normative framework. Every blockage in the Security Council, every watered-down sanction, every legal debate without operational translation contributes to establishing the precedent of an international order incapable of producing binding effects. China, for its part, favors a silent and economic approach. Sudan remains for Beijing an area of long-term interest, both for its resources and for its position on maritime routes connecting Asia, Africa, and Europe. True to its doctrine of non-interference, China avoids any strong political condemnation and accommodates a conflicting status quo as long as its essential interests are not directly threatened.   This Russo-Chinese positioning neutralizes any prospect of real international constraint. Legal qualifications, including that of genocide recognized by the United States, thus remain without operational translation. International law exists, but it no longer produces strategic rupture. Welcome to the global disorder of the 21st century. Read also on the same topic:  The Collapse of Sudan: The War for War (1/4)    Next article - Iran and its indirect war in Sudan (3/4)

Lokman Slim was not an opponent in the conventional sense, nor a partisan activist seeking power or position. At the core of his experience, he was an intellectual who chose to pay the full price for his convictions, confronting the system of oppression not from outside, but from within its social environment, through its prevailing narratives and the rhetoric it sought to claim as its own. His assassination thus appeared, from the very first moment, as a symbolic killing before it was a classic crime, a political message before it became a personal liquidation. Lokman Slim was born into a Shia environment from which he never detached himself. Yet he refused to allow it to become an ideological prison or a reductive identity. Early on, he understood that the true danger to a community does not come so much from outside as from the suppression of its right to critique, and the transformation of that community into a closed bloc governed by fear and enforced loyalty. His conflict with Hezbollah, therefore, was not a mere political disagreement, but an existential clash between those who see politics as an open space for debate and accountability, and those who regard it as a closed doctrine, protected by arms. Together with his sister Rasha, Lokman Slim founded Dar al-Jadid publishing, and with his wife Monika Borgman, the UMAM Documentation and Research association, placing memory at the heart of his struggle. He had long recognized that domination is exercised not only through military force, but also by controlling narratives, neutralizing inconvenient facts, and rewriting history to serve an authoritarian present. This is why he devoted himself to documenting the civil war, violations, and assassinations – not to exhume the past, but to protect the future from a repetition of the same violence under new names, particularly under the guise of reconciliation with memory. Lokman Slim stood out as an exception in the Lebanese cultural scene, accustomed to equivocation. He did not hide behind a polished discourse, follow prevailing opinion, or seek semantic compromises. He stated clearly that weapons outside state control were a national disaster, that linking Lebanon’s fate to an Iranian-led regional project was political suicide, and transforming the Shia community into a “resistance” bloc violated its members’ right to dissent. In an environment governed by accusations of treachery and political heresy, these positions made him a constant target of threats and defamation, before ultimately leading to his assassination. In this context, his engagement in structured political action was neither a luxury nor a departure from his cultural role. It stemmed from his understanding of the limits of words alone and the need to embed them within a collective framework capable of protecting them and turning them into concrete action. This led him to found the Lebanese Democrats’ Coalition, an attempt to establish a sovereigntist, cross-confessional democratic opposition that rejects both the logic of weapons and that of clientelism, and which links the concept of the state to justice and accountability rather than to sectarian power-sharing. After his assassination, the coalition did not become a mere symbolic memory. Since I assumed its leadership, it has entered a challenging phase of consolidating its political action. Efforts were thus made to embed this political choice as an organized action, rather than reducing it to a moral slogan. As president, I have sought to translate Lokman Slim’s intellectual legacy into a clear political program: a sovereigntist and democratic discourse, uncompromising on the question of weapons, rejecting populism, and addressing Lebanon’s collapse with a view to rebuilding the state rather than managing disaster. Lokman Slim’s assassination did not mark the end of a process, but a moment of truth. It highlighted the scale of the violence inherent in the informal system that governs Lebanon, as well as the fragility of the state and its inability to protect its citizens in all their diversity. It also showed that attempts to silence a voice do not erase the idea it carries, but place those who defend it under the responsibility of ensuring its continuity by other means – this time political and organizational – as the coalition sought to do since the assassination. In his struggle, Lokman Slim was never an isolated, elitist voice. He constantly sought to bridge the gap between thought and politics, culture and society. He did not address the West in search of legitimacy, nor did he adopt a condescending tone towards his own community. On the contrary, he confronted it from within, asserting its right to be more than a mere human reservoir for others’ projects. This is what made his struggle so painful for his adversaries: it stripped them of their claim to exclusive representation and exposed the fragility of their discourse when confronted with argument rather than slogans. Years after his assassination, Lokman Slim cannot be reduced to the image of a victim or martyr. His true value lies in the model he embodied, that of the uncompromising intellectual who refused to separate ethics from politics and who would not remain passive in the face of his country’s collapse. He left us a heavy legacy, not only in his books and archives, but also in the questions that remain: can a state be built under the threat of weapons it does not control? Can pluralism be preserved in a climate of fear? And can memory itself constitute a form of resistance? Lokman Slim may not have achieved victory in his lifetime, but his struggle made defeat harder and silence impossible. He opened a rift in the narrative of power – a rift that no attempt at denial could ever heal. In itself, this constitutes a form of victory.