Explaining the absence of the Lebanese state in the Israel-Hezbollah war
The Lebanese state has been a bystander rather than an active mediator and decision-maker in seeking to bring the current Hezbollah-Israel war to an end. This piece seeks to inform international practitioners and mediators about the complex facets of the Lebanese state, often marginalized in conflict management circles. It contextualizes the Lebanese state’s patterns of inaction in the trajectory of the country’s politics of sectarian power-sharing. Often times, sectarian leaders have sought to maintain the status quo at the expense of processing disagreements over contentious issues. No matter the outcome of the current war—whether it ends in a frail ceasefire, or a longer-term settlement—the question remains: What role will the Lebanese state play in forging the path ahead?
In recent months, many have questioned the role of the Lebanese state in the ongoing Israel-Hezbollah war. “Wayn el dawla?” (where is the state?) is a frequent question heard on the streets of Beirut, not only today, but in the many years since Lebanon’s Civil War ended in 1989. Amid widespread violence engulfing Lebanon, state institutions have remained conspicuously passive.
Ten days passed after the explosion of Hezbollah’s pagers and walkie talkies before caretaker Prime Minister Najib Mikati announced an exceptional cabinet meeting for September 28, following his return from the UN General Assembly in New York.
Viewed through the lens of the modern inter-state system which declares sovereignty, state institutions and borders to be sacrosanct features of statecraft, Lebanon appears to be an anomaly. Paralyzed institutions, eroded sovereignty, porous borders, and a non-existent foreign policy have been key characteristics of the post-civil war state. Amidst escalating violence in the South, the Lebanese state remained in the first weeks of the conflict surprisingly silent. To an external onlooker, it appears as though Lebanon’s national institutions have not much influence in this war.
A closer examination of Lebanon’s political history tells a different story. The state’s ‘calculated inaction’ allows the reproduction of Lebanon’s power-sharing system which is based on splitting power along sectarian lines. Why is a historical reading of sectarian power-sharing important for understanding the behavior of the Lebanese state today and informing a path out of this war?
Where is the Lebanese state?
As the war between Hezbollah and Israel gains unprecedented intensity, the Lebanese government’s official stance has been to seek de-escalation, and call for implementing a ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah as well as for the application of UN Resolution 1701. Adopted in August 2006 to put an end to the so-called “Summer of Rage” between Hezbollah and Israel, Resolution 1701 calls among several issues for the disarmament of all armed groups, the withdrawal of Hezbollah beyond the Litani River, and the deployment of the Lebanese Army in the South of Lebanon.
Recently, Lebanon’s Caretaker Prime Minister Najib Mikati and Speaker of the Parliament Nabih Berri announced that the Lebanese army was ready to deploy in the South, and that their priority is, indeed, to implement Resolution 1701.
There is however no domestic consensus on how the state will rise to this task. In the last weeks, Lebanese politicians have been divided over the strategy forward. They have also been divided over whether and if so how to disengage Lebanon from the Gaza war. Some politicians have lamented the absence of national institutions, calling for Hezbollah to relinquish its weaponry to the Lebanese army. Some remained conspicuously silent. Others stressed the role of Hezbollah as a leading Resistance in a turbulent Middle East.
In the October ceasefire proposal negotiated by the Biden Administration, the Lebanese state remained a bystander. The draft called for the implementation of Resolution 1701, but insisted that Israel can still fly over Lebanon to guarantee its security. Hezbollah declared that it will not accept any truce that violates Lebanon’s sovereignty. Currently, U.S. diplomat Amos Hochstein has intensified efforts to negotiate a ceasefire in Beirut, and Hezbollah’s new Secretary-General, Naim Qassem, has indicated a willingness to accept the proposal, provided certain conditions and guidelines are met.
This situation paints the picture of a weak state that cannot get its act together. Yet, the narrative is complex. Policy legacies matter. It is important here to account for path dependency or how past events shape current and future actions.
Power-sharing in the shadow of sectarianism
Lebanon operates under a power-sharing system whereby sectarian communities are set to share power in political offices. The President is a Maronite Christian, the Prime Minister is a Sunni Muslim, and the Speaker of Parliament is a shi’a Muslim. Contrary to the intentions of the 1943 National Pact’s founders, however, political elites in Lebanon do not effectively share political power. Policy gridlock, empty political offices and unresolved discussions pertaining to the provision of public services from electricity to water have left many pondering how elected officials and ruling incumbents spend their time in the parliament and in cabinet meetings. Since October 2022, Lebanon has been in a state of governmental gridlock without a president and with a caretaker cabinet that has little incentive and capacity to govern.
Immobilism is however not only the mere result of state inaction or weakness. This is calculated inaction. The state represented by a coalition of sectarian powerholders chooses when to be active and when to lapse into dormancy.
As research has shown, post-war officials rushed to reconstruct Down Town Beirut. At other times, ruling incumbents chose not to address thorny issues that may jeopardize their economic interests or the stability of their rule. Moreover, political coalitions have frequently been divided over the state’s stance in regional conflicts. Their stance in geopolitical conflicts has been to a large extent determined by the perceived losses or payoffs that they derive from this particular conflict. Following the assassination of PM Rafiq Hariri and the withdrawal of Syrian troops in April 2005, Lebanon was split into an anti-Syrian and a pro-Syrian coalition for over a decade. These coalitions had deep-seated disagreements regarding Lebanon’s role in the Middle East Peace process, alliances with Syria and Iran, and Hezbollah’s arsenal.
Following the end of Lebanon’s Civil War in 1989, the Ta’if Agreement called for the disarmament of all armed groups in Lebanon, except Hezbollah, which was tasked with defending Lebanon and liberating the South from Israeli occupation. Ever since, an internal divide between political groups who see Hezbollah as a deterrent force in the context of a weak state and those who call for dismantling its weaponry has prevailed.
Today, Lebanon is still grappling with various dilemmas common to post-war transitions. Examples include the transformation of former warring parties and whether to prioritize democratic rule or security in a turbulent region.
In this context, political factions have prioritized their survival over enacting reforms. Clinging to their power rather than strengthening the state’s preparedness for critical junctures has been their core priority. Today, athough Lebanese government officials declare that they are keen to stop the war, the state lacks a system of governing that can navigate a war of such immense magnitude.
While political elites have been busy ensuring their survival, they have done so at the expense of people’s agency.
A disconnect between political elites’ strategic momentum and people’s lived time
Peace scholars emphasize the disconnect between political temporalities driven by decision-makers and people’s sense of time. Political temporalities such as launching a war or signing a ceasefire are far different from how people perceive, live and navigate war and peace in their everyday. Lebanese people experience a daily disconnect between political temporalities driven by domestic and international policymakers, and their own lived time.
Since the war ended in 1989, elite-led processes have driven understandings of war and peace. Top-down conceptions of security, stability and peacebuilding remained disconnected from a bottom-up dialogue on matters of peace and war. The negotiation of the post-war power-sharing agreement, the Ta’if Accord which revitalized Lebanon’s power-sharing institutions was shrouded in secrecy. The war’s end in 1989 was further driven by the tactical momentum created by international, regional, and national powers. Since then, people have repeatedly called for a nation-wide dialogue on post-war reconciliation and the 1991 Amnesty, which is believed to have granted warlords impunity. People have also demanded the truth behind the political assassinations that have shaken the country since the 1990s.
In October 2019, five years ago, Lebanese citizens took to the streets in unprecedented numbers for several months calling for the fall of the sectarian regime. Graffiti, slogans and chants envisioned a nation freed from the shackles of sectarian politics. Currently, however, the 2019 uprising feels distant, overshadowed by cascading crises, from the financial meltdown, the Beirut Blasts to the all-out war between Hezbollah and Israel.
Intertwined destinies but divided politics
Despite the significant gap between top-down power-sharing and grassroots politics, today’s escalatory violence and mass internal displacement in Lebanon are making some things clear. The fates of citizens, refugees, and stateless individuals in Lebanon are deeply interconnected. People may live in separate neighborhoods and enjoy different legal and social statuses and privileges. Yet, their struggles are intertwined. What some thought to be at the beginning a war confined to the South of Lebanon is a war in the whole of Lebanon as Israel’s bombing has spread to various areas.
Mutual aid in different Lebanese localities, communities supporting each other, Lebanese and Syrian communities seeking shelter in Syria, coalitional initiatives born overnight are some of the manifestations of this thick-layered tradition of communal solidarity. Although elites may not share power, people share collective destinies and hardships shaped by years of coexistence. Together, they endure hardship, destruction and violence.
Today, people in Lebanon feel that they are at the mercy of intractable conflicts. But it is not too late for a participatory national dialogue bringing all segments of the society together to deliberate on issues at the heart of peace. Currently, ceasefire plans for ending the Israeli-Hezbollah war are negotiated in diplomatic spheres with Lebanese citizens as bystanders. Remedying to the exclusion of state institutions and making power-sharing about the whole of society is the first step towards owning a peaceful future.
