Lebanon: Marwa Osman and Kevork Almassian (Article and Video)
Why calls for Hezbollah’s disarmament ignore Lebanon’s security vacuum, Israel’s ongoing violations, and the failure of the state to protect its own borders.
[Note: Lebanon is the stand-out example of the tactics from the crazed hegemonic owning a small slice of a comprador government and a large community yearning and working for national unity, and a fair and sustainable world order. Syria is the stand-out example of such a fight that that the resistance lost].
Over to Kevork …
Beirut is once again at a crossroads. An all-too-familiar place for a country that has spent decades navigating existential dilemmas, foreign interference, and internal division. At the center of the current national debate is the future of Lebanon’s only organized non-state military actor, Hezbollah, and the question of whether it should disarm as part of a broader political and security arrangement backed by the United States and Israel, and pushed by certain factions inside Lebanon.
I spoke to Marwa Osman, a journalist and political analyst based in Beirut, and our discussion delved deep into the contours of this moment: the contested ceasefire, Israel’s continued occupation of Lebanese territory, and the immense internal pressure mounting within Lebanon’s fractured political system.
Let me state at the outset that I fully understand the complexity here. Hezbollah is a proscribed organization in Germany, which limits the space for balanced public discussion in Europe. But if we truly care about stability in Lebanon, we must be willing to understand the realities on the ground, even if we disagree with the actors involved.
The Ceasefire That Isn’t
On November 27, 2024, a cessation of hostilities agreement was reached—at least on paper. It was intended to end Israel’s war on Lebanon, which had escalated in support of Gaza. But the hostilities didn’t stop. Israeli military operations continued for weeks and months after the agreement, including the bombing of villages and incursions into Lebanese territory. At the time of writing, Israel occupies thirteen points inside southern Lebanon, up from five when the ceasefire was announced.
The Lebanese army, tasked under UN Resolution 1701 with maintaining security in the south, has been rendered functionally absent. Not only has it failed to stop the violations, but it has also suffered casualties without firing a shot in return. This is not to insult the army but to highlight its political constraints. Orders come not from Lebanon’s own institutions but are filtered through layers of foreign approval, especially from the United States.
Under these conditions, how can we expect a unilateral disarmament of a group that, rightly or wrongly, sees itself as Lebanon’s last line of defense?
Disarmament Without a State?
Supporters of disarmament argue that Hezbollah’s weapons destabilize the country and invite Israeli retaliation. But the question remains: what replaces those weapons in practical terms? Will the Lebanese army—underfunded, politically shackled, and reliant on foreign support—be empowered to defend the country’s borders and civilians? Can it act independently, or will it remain bound by the very foreign policies that have facilitated Lebanon’s current vulnerability?
We cannot speak of disarmament without speaking of the state’s failure to secure its own sovereignty. Hezbollah did not emerge from a vacuum; it arose during an Israeli occupation and flourished in a vacuum of state power. To argue for disarmament without a credible state security infrastructure is not realistic.
A Weakened Axis of Resistance
Let’s be clear. The axis of resistance has suffered major blows in the past year. Iran has recalibrated its role, focusing inward. Syria has been swallowed by Israel and Turkey. The Gaza war has seen mass destruction, decapitation of leadership, and the strategic isolation of Palestinian factions.
Hezbollah has felt these pressures acutely. Its senior commanders have been targeted and killed. Its logistical and strategic links across the region have been damaged. But the argument that Hezbollah is militarily broken is premature. In the final days of the war, it managed to strike Tel Aviv with mid-range ballistic missiles, an act that sent a clear deterrent message, whether one supports or opposes it.
So why continue the fight?
Osman put it bluntly: when faced with a choice between slow death under foreign diktats or resisting at great cost, many Lebanese—especially in the south—prefer the latter. This isn’t romanticism. It’s trauma speaking. It’s the memory of 1982, when Israeli soldiers marched through Beirut. It’s the fear of Daesh elements spilling into Lebanon from Syria’s lawless zones. It’s the simple knowledge that even disarmed communities—like those in pro-US-regime-held Syria today—are still being bombed, repressed, and killed.
Disarmament, for many, doesn’t mean peace. It means submission.
National Unity or Illusion?
One striking point raised in the conversation is the myth that Lebanon is teetering on the brink of sectarian civil war. Despite the heated rhetoric in media circles—many of them funded by Gulf and Western interests—the people on the ground show more maturity than their elites.
Christian, Sunni, and Shia communities have stood together during bombardments. When Hezbollah fighters returned in coffins after defending border villages during the Syrian war, many Lebanese—Christian towns included—rang church bells and threw flowers. These are not gestures of ideology but of shared fate. In the words of one Christian resident: “Don’t give up your weapons. Because if you do, who will protect us?”
This is not a call for endless war. It is a call for sober analysis. If disarmament is to be on the table, it must come with guarantees—not from Paris, Washington, or Tel Aviv—but from a sovereign Lebanese state that can defend its people.
Until then, the demand to disarm is not a peace plan. It’s a suicide pact.
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—Kevork Almassian is a Syrian journalist, geopolitical analyst, and the founder of Syriana Analysis.