A Lebanon unable to disarm Hezbollah shows the country's institutional weakness

BeirutThe open negotiations between Lebanon and Israel, driven by American pressure after the new military escalation – which has left more than 2,500 dead in Lebanon–, have reactivated a structural fracture that Beirut has never managed to resolve: Who decides on war and peace in the country? The answer, today as yesterday, remains ambiguous.

The president, Joseph Aoun, and the prime minister, Nawaf Salam, have opted for a diplomatic path that includes direct contacts, unprecedented in decades, with Israel. But this approach is being developed on mined ground. Not only because of the outright rejection of the Shiite militia Hezbollah, but also because the Lebanese state itself lacks the political and coercive instruments to impose its strategy.

"The Lebanese paradox is that the government is negotiating a conflict it does not control," summarizes Abdel Salam Ahmad, from the Beirut Centre for Strategic Studies. "It does not set the agenda or the pace, but rather responds to external dynamics instead of directing them."

The episode that best illustrates this fragility was the unilateral announcement by the President of the United States, Donald Trump, about an alleged direct contact between Aoun and the Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu. The initiative, communicated without prior coordination with Beirut, caused bewilderment in the presidential palace and highlighted the extent to which key decisions are made outside the country.

This imbalance is reproduced in the very content of the ceasefire. Although it has allowed a relative pause in the fighting, its terms enshrine an asymmetry. Israel maintains freedom of action under the argument of "self-defense," while the Lebanese state assumes containment commitments, especially concerning Hezbollah, without equivalent guarantees.

For retired Colonel George el-Khoury, this stance is unsustainable in the medium term. "You cannot ask the state to disarm Hezbollah while Israel continues to operate on Lebanese territory. This is not a negotiation, it is a staggered imposition," he points out. In his opinion, the risk is not only diplomatic failure but also an internal fracture if the army is pushed to confront the Shiite movement.

The disarmament of Hezbollah, demanded by Washington and Israel as a condition for any lasting agreement, concentrates all contradictions. In theory, the government insists on placing all weapons under state control, but in practice this objective clashes with a political and military reality established for decades.

Not only due to Hezbollah's refusal, but also for its collateral effects on the state's own structure. "Forcing this process without consensus could cause an institutional implosion," warns el-Khoury. "The Lebanese army is a national institution, but it is also a reflection of the sectarian balance. If it is ordered to confront Hezbollah, the risk of internal fracture is real".

The precedent weighs heavily. During the civil war, the armed forces fragmented along confessional lines, further weakening the state and prolonging the conflict. Today, although the context is different, the possibility of a similar breakdown is not ruled out in security circles.

Hezbollah is not solely a militia. It is a central political actor, with institutional representation and an entrenched social base, especially within the Shiite community. Furthermore, its military apparatus surpasses the capabilities of the Lebanese armed forces themselves in certain areas.

The fiction of handing over weapons

Mohamed Obaid, an expert on Hezbollah and close to its political circles, fundamentally rejects the logic of disarmament in the current context. "Talking about handing over weapons while the country is under threat is a dangerous fiction. The resistance is not a negotiable detail, it is a structural element of internal balance," he maintains. For Hezbollah, direct negotiations with Israel "are not a tool to stabilize the country, but a vector of external pressure seeking to alter the internal balance against it," he qualifies.

Recent statements by movement leaders warning against a "covert normalization" reflect this perception. But they also point to a broader political struggle. Criticism is no longer limited to the government, but is directed directly against President Aoun, accused of crossing historical red lines.

"The question is not just whether or not to negotiate with Israel," points out the expert close to Hezbollah. "It is under what internal mandate it is done. Without a minimum of national consensus, any agreement will be perceived as illegitimate by a significant part of the country," he adds.

This deficit of legitimacy is exacerbated by the regional context. The war in Lebanon cannot be isolated from the struggle between the United States, Iran, and Israel, and the recent truce reflects this external balance more than a Lebanese initiative. In this framework, the state's margin is reduced and it remains trapped between managing its sovereignty, the pressure to avoid a new escalation, and international demands that are difficult to reconcile with its internal divisions.

The pressure to accelerate disarmament, in this context, appears disconnected from reality on the ground. "If an attempt is made to impose it by force, there will be no disarmament. There will be chaos," warns Obaid.

The result is a choice with no clear way out between external negotiation without resolving its internal fracture, or attempting to recompose a national consensus under military pressure. And both lead to the same paradox: that an attempt to strengthen the state ends up weakening it even further. But in Lebanon, this is not an exception. It is part of its history.