During a golden age, Beirut was known as the “Paris of the Middle East”—a cosmopolitan mecca that gleamed with fancy restaurants and hotels. The fashion magazine Vogue went so far as to label the Lebanese capital a “jet-setters’ playground,” with a social scene to rival wealthy European capitals.
That was in the 1970s, before the city became synonymous with bombs and hostages.
Today, the notion of Beirut as a holiday destination seems as remote as Donald Trump’s vision of a blood-soaked Gaza becoming a Mediterranean Riviera.
At the country’s only international airport, officials spend considerably more time worrying about who or what might be coming from Iran than processing tourists. For while the international spotlight is trained on Hamas, Tehran is quietly stepping up support for its other proxy: Lebanese Hezbollah.
Just what might be concealed on flights to Beirut from Tehran is a question that security personnel have not always asked. Until recently, airport staff were sometimes instructed to turn a blind eye. Hezbollah remains a powerful political and military force in Lebanon, and it was easier not to look too hard for hidden arms and money.
Some change is underway, as a new Lebanese government seeks to position itself as a key player in the struggle to bring peace to the region. Confronting Hezbollah is critical—for as long as this Iranian proxy has weapons and cash, it will expand to fill any gap created by a diminished Hamas.
For now, Hezbollah remains woven into the fabric of Lebanese society, exerting a powerful military and political influence. The worry among those who understand the complexities of Lebanese politics is that the Lebanese government is neither serious about tackling the Shia militia nor capable of doing so.
Some 4,000 Lebanese were killed when Israel turned its fire on Hezbollah in the wake of the October 7 attacks, taking out much of the militia’s arsenal in Lebanon. The new prime minister has made weakening Hezbollah a central plank of his agenda. Certainly, he is making the right noises. Among the high-profile measures he has taken are suspending flights from Iran, purging suspect airport staff, and confiscating illicit arms and money. The Lebanese government recently trumpeted the seizure of more than 50lbs of gold at the airport as evidence that Iran can no longer funnel weapons and cash into Lebanon this way. Meanwhile, the army is working to dismantle Hezbollah positions and weapon stockpiles in southern Lebanon (a condition of a ceasefire with Israel last year).
However, Hezbollah chief Naim Qassem has insisted he will “not let anyone” neuter his “resistance” movement. Lebanese president Joseph Aoun has admitted that disarming Hezbollah is a “delicate” matter, that “requires dialogue”—a comment that hints at the scale of the challenge.
Amid simmering geopolitical tensions, it is—as always—ordinary people who suffer most. Lebanon’s economy is tanking. The World Bank estimates that GDP shrank by more than 7pc last year, and that the Israeli assault did some US$8bn worth of damage to a country already mired in economic and social challenges. Lebanese politicians have pleaded for international help. Is anyone listening?
While world leaders, foreign policy makers, and humanitarian organisations focus on the conflict in Gaza, few seem to care about what is happening in neighbouring Lebanon. Even fewer seem to recognise how critical this beautiful country is to the bigger picture.
As long as Tehran is able to use Lebanon as a power base, a weakened Hamas can easily rise again.
As Lebanese voters dream of a different future, one powerful family name continues to loom large: Hariri. It seems fitting that efforts to stop the flow of weapons and gold from Iran are focused on Rafic Hariri International Airport. It is named after the Lebanese prime minister who was assassinated by Hezbollah. Hariri’s death, in a suicide bombing in Beirut in 2005, sent shockwaves around the world and brought a brutal end to his mission to bring peace to the Levant. During his first administration, he played a key role in the 1989 Taif Agreement, which ended the 15-year-long Lebanese civil war. During his second premiership, in 2000, he successfully negotiated Israeli withdrawal from southern Lebanon, ending 18 years of occupation. He also dramatically improved his country’s relations with Syria.
Following Hariri’s assassination, it was his second son, Saad, who picked up the torch, twice serving as prime minister of Lebanon (between 2009 and 2011; and 2016 and 2020).
But what of the first-born son, Bahaa Hariri? To date, the billionaire entrepreneur has preferred business and philanthropy to frontline politics, but those who know him say he despairs at the state of his home country and has been increasingly concerned about the uncontrolled level of corruption that has collapsed the Lebanese economy. Determined to continue his father’s legacy, Bahaa Hariri remains in touch with business leaders and continues to maintain his political office in Lebanon.
While others play lip service to the mission, for Hariri, it is personal. Might his time be drawing near?
