The people demanding Hezbollah's disarmament are often looking at an imagined Lebanon. Hezbollah's supporters are looking at the Middle East as it actually exists.
© Kevork’s Newsletter
Every few months, the same debate returns to Lebanon. Hezbollah must disarm. The argument is usually presented as self-evident, almost beyond discussion. Lebanon cannot become a normal state while Hezbollah retains its weapons. Lebanon cannot exercise full sovereignty while a non-state actor possesses military capabilities greater than those of the national army. Lebanon cannot achieve stability, prosperity, or peace until Hezbollah surrenders its arsenal and allows the state to monopolize force.
At first glance, the argument sounds reasonable.
In fact, it sounds so reasonable that many people never stop to ask a much more important question: what exactly would Hezbollah be disarming into?Because before discussing Hezbollah's weapons, one must first discuss Lebanon itself, where the conversation becomes uncomfortable. The people who demand Hezbollah's disarmament often begin with an idealized image of Lebanon rather than the Lebanon that actually exists. They imagine a coherent nation-state with a shared national identity, functioning institutions, and a unified understanding of the country's interests. They imagine a state capable of protecting all its citizens equally and defending its borders independently. In other words, they begin from the conclusion rather than from reality.
I spent five years studying and working in Lebanon, and one of the most important lessons the country taught me is that Lebanon often appears far more unified from the outside than it actually is from within. Lebanon means a great deal to me personally. It was there that I began my professional life. It was there that I worked as a producer, later as a host, and eventually published my first opinion articles. It was there that I discovered that political analysis could become more than a passion. It could become a vocation. Lebanon gave me opportunities that Syria, at the time, simply could not offer.
But Lebanon also taught me something else. It taught me that what many outsiders call "Lebanon" is often a collection of different political universes sharing the same geographical space. Travel through the country and the differences become impossible to ignore. In the north, you encounter one set of loyalties, symbols, and narratives. In Tripoli, another. In Mount Lebanon, another. In Beirut, multiple competing realities coexist simultaneously. In the south, yet another political consciousness emerges entirely. Flags change. Historical memories change. Perceptions of allies and enemies change. Even the understanding of what Lebanon is supposed to be changes.
This fragmentation is not merely the residue of the civil war. The civil war exposed it, but it did not create it.
Modern Lebanon was constructed around a delicate sectarian formula that sought to balance competing communities rather than forge a single national project. For decades, different factions cultivated different
external patrons. Some looked to France. Others to Saudi Arabia. Others to Syria. Others to the United States. Others to Iran. Political identity often became intertwined with foreign sponsorship, external alliances, and sectarian affiliation.
The result was a state that formally existed but never fully succeeded in creating a unified national consciousness.This reality matters because it lies at the heart of the Hezbollah question.
Comment: So bureaucracy hinders improvements but fast tracks unnecessary vaccines.
Babies are being given and dying from a vaccine that was created for sexually active adults