Disarming Hezbollah? The Trap of Words
“To misname things is to add to the world’s misery.” Albert Camus
By Edmond Rabbath, August 19, 2025
This article may come as a shock. Some will not understand its content, convinced that it is a plea for Hezbollah. Let them rest assured: I remain, and always will remain, a fierce enemy of the party, its ideology, and its project. I will never forgive it for storing ammonium nitrate at the port, nor for assassinating Lokman Slim, among many other atrocities. But I have always followed Mark Twain's advice: "Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to stop and think." This is precisely what I propose here: to reflect on what "disarming Hezbollah" really means, and what this injunction reveals about our collective failings.
When you set a goal as weighty as Hezbollah's disarmament, it still needs to be defined. Since the beginning of the year, this formula has recurred like a magic slogan, repeated by Washington, Tel Aviv, and certain Lebanese leaders who, just yesterday, carefully avoided raising the issue. But what does it mean in concrete terms? How? According to what criteria, and what timeline? With what guarantees? No one knows. And that's the problem. Neither the Lebanese army nor its intelligence services know the true extent of Hezbollah's arsenal, nor the number of fighters it can mobilize, nor the extent of its military sites. This lack of serious assessment makes the goal not only unrealistic, but irresponsible—especially in a state in political and institutional bankruptcy.
Even foreign powers have not provided any precise outline. In Gaza, Israel promised to "disarm Hamas" and "eliminate its cadres." Nearly two years, sixty-two thousand, and massive destruction later, no one knows if these objectives have been achieved. One thing is certain: the war has turned into genocide. Who defines what a "Hamas member" is? Who decides that an arsenal is "destroyed"? This vagueness is strategic. With Hezbollah, it's even worse. Since October 2023, Israeli strikes in southern Lebanon have targeted supposed members of the party—unknown names, revealed by the Israeli media. Who knew Fouad Chokor before his assassination? Who verifies this information? Certainly not the Lebanese press. And certainly not the state.
For decades, Lebanon has hidden behind the symbols of a state without ever embodying its functions. Behind the facade of ministries, uniforms, elections, and international conferences, there is only the appearance of authority. Hezbollah is not the only one to have understood this, but it is the one that has taken advantage of it best. It did not impose its power through brute force alone: it occupied the vacuum, exploited the despair of an entire community, and imposed itself through the resignation of others. While army officers received condolences for the death of a loved one and political leaders danced at weddings, Israel collected data, monitored targets, and prepared its war. Officially against Hezbollah, in reality against all of Lebanon. How can we explain that Israel knows the location of Hezbollah's arsenals better than our own army? Did the latter deliberately subcontract disarmament to Israel? Or is she ignorant of everything, reduced to a mere facade? In either case, it's extremely serious.
Should we recall that current President Joseph Aoun would never have been appointed commander of the 9th Brigade—deployed to the border with Israel in 2015—without Hezbollah's approval? And that he would not have become army commander-in-chief in 2017 without its tacit approval, perhaps even that of Assad's Syria? What applies to Joseph Aoun applies to all security officials. Those who today call for the party's disarmament are turning a blind eye to these crucial realities. But even more dangerous than its weapons remains the ideological brainwashing carried out for forty years by the mullahs. This patient work has shaped entire generations, entrenching a loyalty stronger than that owed to the nation. To think that a simple decision would be enough to erase it is dangerously naive. As long as Lebanon does not propose a credible plan for the future, this hold will persist.
It's convenient to blame Hezbollah solely for the country's ruin. But that would be too easy. The party has only prospered on a field of ruins sown by others: warlords recycled into ministers, corrupt notables, subservient judges, rogue bankers, political leaders who colluded with it to keep a seat on the Council of Ministers. The election of Michel Aoun to the presidency in 2016—with the support of those who cursed him yesterday, adored him for a while, and hate him again—consolidated this system. Sectarian compromises, abandonment of judicial authority, fratricidal wars, and political cowardice have given Hezbollah impunity.
In every crisis, the Lebanese look for a foreign savior. Today, some are banking on Tom Barrack and Morgan Ortagus. Yesterday, it was Ariel Sharon, Ghazi Kanaan, or the Iranian ambassador. Tomorrow, it may be Ahmad Al Charaa, presented as the providential man capable of "closing the Tehran-Beirut route," despite his terrorist past and recent crimes against religious minorities. As if our salvation must always come from elsewhere. As if we were incapable of building our sovereignty.
But the interests of foreign powers evolve, and none align with those of the Lebanese people. The United States, in particular, has never hesitated to support a man only to abandon him later: Lebanon after the attack on the Marines, Saddam's Iraq, the Mujahideen's Afghanistan. Today, with the return of Donald Trump—who, after humiliating Zelensky and flattering Putin, is now threatening Russia, only to change his mind after the meeting in Alaska and appear alongside the Ukrainian president surrounded by six European leaders—the message is clear: American policy has become a matter of instinct, resentment, and theater. To believe that a man as impulsive as Trump, relayed by his special emissaries, can be a guarantor of stability is strategic blindness.
The illusions repeat themselves. Some once hoped that Hafez al-Assad would "solve the Palestinian problem," or that the IDF would "restore order" in 1982. Each time, the result was the same: more war, more occupation, more divisions. Even recent electoral victories are tainted. Would Samir Geagea have won so many seats in Parliament without the bloody incidents in Tayouné? The use of fear and polarization remains a powerful political lever in a country where democracy is nothing more than a word emptied of its meaning.
I fight what Hezbollah represents: illegality, terrorism, unilateralism, submission to the mullahs' regime, the confiscation of national decision-making. But I also fight those who, under the cover of legality and impunity, have openly plundered this country, allied themselves with Hezbollah, and covered up for the bankers who stole our deposits. Today, the party is weakened, but it is not politically defeated. Its most vocal adversaries are also those who protected it yesterday. Those who today demand its disarmament allied themselves with it in the last municipal elections. Allies like Michel Sleiman, Faisal Karamé, and even Gebran Bassil—who owe their notoriety and fortune to their proximity to Hezbollah—are now engaging in dangerous escalation. The party knows that if it lets its guard down, these same vultures will swoop down to tear it apart and make it solely responsible for all our ills. And in a country where crowds are inflamed by social media and television propaganda channels, disarmament could quickly degenerate into civil war.
"You can do anything with bayonets except sit on them," said Talleyrand. Hezbollah's weapons have lost all strategic utility. They no longer defend anything or anyone. Their sole function is now to turn against Lebanon itself.
Disarm Hezbollah, yes—but not to hand the country over to those who have repeatedly betrayed it. Because removing a rifle from a person's hands guarantees nothing if we don't tackle the roots of evil. Peace is not decreed, it is built. Stone by stone, truth by truth. It begins with shedding light on the port explosion, that gaping wound in our collective memory. With a justice system that is finally independent, deaf to pressure and horse-trading. With elections freed from the sectarian blackmail that has plagued our democracy for too long. It requires the lifting of banking secrecy, that code of silence that protects the predators of the Republic. With an education system that prohibits ideological and hateful speech, so that our children finally learn to see themselves as citizens first and foremost. And it imperatively demands the Israeli withdrawal from all lands occupied since last summer. For if Hezbollah is indeed no longer a threat, what justification remains for this military presence on our soil? Drones and listening systems have proven their effectiveness for surveillance, making the occupation inexcusable.
True peace is born of justice, not force. But above all, it requires a future. As Napoleon reminded us: "One can only lead the people by showing them a future." Disarming Hezbollah is a necessity. But we must offer all Lebanese a national perspective in which they can identify, far from old ideologies, far from warlords, far from instrumentalized fear, and with the Lebanese Constitution as our only guarantee. This is why we must create a true platform, bringing together all those who reject corrupt parties and aspire to a project in step with our times. A project that fully embraces the challenges ahead—including artificial intelligence, already reshaping the world—and that breaks with the old, sclerotic Lebanon where the same warlike figures are constantly recycled to fuel fear of the other and maintain their power.
To all those who loudly call for disarmament, I say: let he who has never betrayed Lebanon cast the first stone. And to all the others, those who have nothing left to lose, I recall these words of Martin Luther King, more relevant than ever: "We must learn to live together as brothers, or we will all die together as fools."
An excellent analysis and portrayal of Lebanon and its ruling class in these dark days of frightening politics and barbaric brutality all over the world, forwarded to me, originally in French. I'm not too familiar with Edmond Rabbath, nor with his publications, but felt compelled to translate his article, and republish on our blog, to the benefit of all readers and a much better understanding of the situation reigning over there.
All my sincere thanks to all.
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