Hezbollah, the so-called \u201cParty of God\u201d, is not the same thing as Lebanon. Yet the party is deeply embedded in Lebanese politics. The group emerged during the Lebanese civil war and in the aftermath of Israel\u2019s 1982 invasion<\/a>. It grew rapidly by combining armed resistance with political representation and services for Shia communities that had long been neglected by the Lebanese state. <\/p>\n In the southern suburbs of Beirut, known as Dahiyeh, and across the south, it became a provider of services. Hezbollah built schools, clinics and welfare networks<\/a> that helped it convert resistance into social legitimacy. That presence built loyalty and dependence that outlasted its original resistance role.<\/p>\n Lebanon\u2019s postwar political system is built on sectarian power sharing<\/a>. Hezbollah entered parliament in the 1990s<\/a> and built alliances well beyond its core Shia base, which enabled it to join coalition governments. <\/p>\n But unlike other major Lebanese factions, it retained its weapons after the civil war. This allowed it to combine formal political participation with an armed capacity that was outside the control of the state. Its alliance with Christian groups<\/a>, most significantly Free Patriotic Movement, Lebanon\u2019s largest Christian party, gave it cross-sectarian legitimacy and protection against isolation. <\/p>\n Hezbollah\u2019s ability to shape Lebanese politics has often rested less on governing than on stopping other groups from governing. The clearest illustration was the presidency. After Michel Aoun completed his term in October 2022, Lebanon went without a president for more than two years<\/a>. Hezbollah blocked every candidate that threatened its interests. Parliament failed to elect a successor 13 times<\/a>. <\/p>\n Lebanon drifted without a head of state through the 2024 war with Israel. Its caretaker government could not take major decisions. Desperately needed economic assistance was withheld by international donors. It was Hezbollah\u2019s blocking power made visible. Lebanon\u2019s caretaker government could not take major decisions or enact the reforms international donors required. Desperately needed economic assistance was withheld as a result.<\/p>\n This current conflict has caught Hezbollah in a weaker political position than it once enjoyed. The anti-government protests<\/a> of 2019, economic collapse<\/a> and the Beirut port explosion<\/a> has deepened public anger at Lebanon\u2019s ruling class \u2014 and at Hezbollah as part of it. Hezbollah\u2019s attempts to obstruct the judicial investigation<\/a> into the explosion deepened that anger further. <\/p>\n The 2022 elections confirmed the shift. Hezbollah and its allies lost the majority they had held<\/a> since 2018. Independents and reformists who emerged out of the protests took seats<\/a> in a more fragmented legislature. <\/p>\n The Arab Barometer\u2019s 2024 survey<\/a> found that just 30% of Lebanese expressed significant trust in Hezbollah, with 55% saying they had no trust at all. Hezbollah\u2019s claim to speak for Lebanon \u2014 or even for all Lebanese Shia \u2014 is now more contested than at any point in its modern history.<\/p>\n The 2024 war, with the devastating pager attacks of September 17 and 18, substantially degraded Hezbollah\u2019s military and further weakened its political standing. Assad\u2019s fall in Syria<\/a> in December removed a key source of regional support. <\/p>\n In January 2025, the Lebanese parliament finally elected Joseph Aoun as president<\/a> \u2014 something that would have been unthinkable when Hezbollah was at its peak and was able to use its influence to exclude him. Aoun, a former army commander, has always insisted it was the army \u2013 not Hezbollah \u2013 that should be the defender of Lebanon\u2019s sovereignty.<\/p>\n Israel\u2019s stated objective<\/a> for many years has been to create a more durable security order along its northern border by weakening or dismantling Hezbollah. But, at the same time, Israeli strikes have inflicted devastation far beyond Hezbollah itself, hitting civilians, infrastructure and communities across the country. <\/p>\n The destruction of places such as Dahiyeh<\/a> reflects a broader logic of warfare in which dense urban space is treated as part of the battlefield. UN experts have argued that the destruction of homes and mass displacement amount to collective punishment in violation of international law<\/a>. <\/p>\n The argument echoes broader legal debates about Israel\u2019s conduct in Gaza, where UN experts have made similar findings<\/a>.<\/p>\n That is also why the simple frame of \u201cIsrael versus Hezbollah\u201d erases so much. Many of those driven from their homes in the south or in Dahiyeh had grown critical of Hezbollah, or had not chosen this war at all. Yet they found themselves bombed out of neighbourhoods that had been designated as legitimate targets, because of an assumed association with Hezbollah. The civilians killed and displaced are not bystanders to somebody else\u2019s conflict. They are among its principal victims.<\/p>\nHezbollah\u2019s political weakness<\/h2>\n
Operation: destroy Hezbollah<\/h2>\n
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