It seems that the negotiations between Lebanon and Israel, whether they are held directly or indirectly, are more than just talks over the latter’s occupation of Lebanese territory and the border disputes of the two countries. They mirror Lebanon’s broader crisis: the state’s capacity to make decisions is constrained, the country’s sovereignty is limited, and it is home to a struggle between statehood and anti-statehood. Every time the question of negotiations is raised, the same questions resurface: Who decides for Lebanon? Who has the authority to say yes and no?
For decades, the question of direct and indirect negotiations has polarized the country. This question is not a diplomatic formality; it reflects a chronic structural deadlock. This impasse cannot be understood in isolation of Hezbollah’s dominance. The party effectively dictates the terms of negotiations, while officials continue to reject direct talks under the pretext of the taboo around normalization. Beneath the surface, however, we find fears of their fragility being laid bare before both domestic and foreign audiences. Any direct contacts would expose the country’s failure to unite around a decision and the conflicting loyalties of Lebanon’s political and sectarian forces.
Lebanon expressing the desire to negotiate with Israel is often presented as an exceptional development. As a matter of fact, however, negotiating with the enemy is the natural path of states seeking to safeguard their interests. The problem, however, lies not in the principle but in the form and substance of the talks, especially amid American pressure and the ambiguity of Egypt’s initiatives. Regarding form: who will negotiate? Military officers, civilians, or a mixed delegation? Will Hezbollah accept a delegation that does not represent it? If its allies take part in the talks, how can the state make pretenses to independent decision-making? If its allies are not present, would the party abide by the agreements reached through the negotiations?
On substance: while the state’s demands are clear (Israel’s withdrawal from the territory it occupies, the release of prisoners, an end to attacks, and border demarcation) there are questions around its negotiating leverage. What can it offer in return in light of Hezbollah’s “red lines:” laying its arms, a permanent truce, Lebanon ending its state of military conflict with Israel, and normalization. These positions were reaffirmed in its “open letter” to Lebanon’s three top officials, in which Hezbollah rejects negotiations and places itself above the state as the ultimate decision-maker.
The focus on the question of armament has obscured a deeper dilemma that might be even more critical. Even if Hezbollah were to agree to a settlement by which it hands over its heavy weapons to appease Israel, would it lose its grip on Lebanon’s political, security, and economic decision-making? Would its organic link to Iran be broken? Would it abandon its monopoly on Shiite representation and release the state from the paralysis of consensual power-sharing? Or would disarmament merely entail superficial changes while allowing Hezbollah to maintain control?
These questions encapsulate Lebanon’s predicament. Any forthcoming negotiations (if they take place) would remain modest so long as the national decisions are in the hands of the Shiite duo and the countries’ divisions and decay deepen. In this event, the negotiations would amount to nothing more than another attempt to buy time. A state that negotiates with someone else’s voice, and whose only policy is to bury its head in the sand, cannot conclude an agreement that enshrines its sovereignty. It can only agree to temporary truces that leave it trapped in stagnation.
The Lebanese authorities likely realize that negotiations are not a strategic shift so much as a new attempt to break the vicious cycle that began on October 8, 2023, which has weakened the state and deepened its fragility and left large swathes of the South, and well as other areas, devastated. The most terrifying specter, however unlikely it may be, is that of Israel launching a fully-fledged war without a political vision for what comes next. Such a conflict would drag Lebanon back into the cycle of occupation, resistance, and displacement, granting Hezbollah a pretext to reemerge under the banner of “liberation.” The state would manage to address the economic and humanitarian fallout of such a war, initiate reconstruction, or begin to recover its sovereignty.'
The authorities seem to have failed to fully grasp the magnitude of current regional shifts: the decline of the “Axis of Resistance” following the fall of the Syrian regime, the collapse of Hamas, Hezbollah losing its regional leverage under the weight of its defeats, and the achievements of the Sharm el-Sheikh summit. Global and Arab actors have taken a united position on these developments, agreeing that support for Lebanon is conditioned on a clear position regarding Hezbollah’s disarmament. The message is now unequivocal: no aid before the state reclaims its sovereignty and seizes all illegal arms.
If the state succeeds in seizing this historical opportunity to restore balance, it could manage to avoid a new round of violence and war and to transform negotiations from a mere tactical maneuver into a gateway to reclaiming sovereignty, consolidating state institutions' legitimacy and the state’s exclusive right to make decisions. Hezbollah, having lost the illusion of deterrence and its foothold in Syria, and as Iran’s support erodes, cannot resist a unified international and Arab front indefinitely.
The authorities are not asked to make miracles, but their task is essential: safeguarding the country’s security and the lives of its people, building confidence between the army and Israel so that the borders can be protected, and ensuring a permanent end to the state of war through a durable truce and security arrangements. Only then can the government turn its attention to the nation’s domestic problems and enter the phase of recovery.
