In times of crisis, real leaders turn to reason and wisdom. In Lebanon, however, some “leaders” seem intent on drowning in an ocean of delusion. The latest remarks by Mohammad Raad, head of Hezbollah’s parliamentary bloc, are not merely a political stance—they are the official launch of a new national priority: the “Paving the Sea” project. It is, apparently, the only cause Hezbollah is prepared to die for.
When Raad insists that his party will “die before handing over its weapons,” he is not defending Lebanon or its sovereignty. He is defending the exclusive privileges of an Iranian-sponsored militia. The irony is that these weapons have not liberated a single inch of occupied territory in years, they have rather invited occupation. Instead, they have liberated the Lebanese from their economy, from stability, and from any chance at a dignified life.
Hezbollah loves to cast itself as Lebanon’s protector. In reality, it is the guardian of stockpiles—stockpiles of arms and explosives buried in residential neighborhoods. From the port to the south, from the “shell warehouses” to the “banana tunnels,” the party has perfected the art of holding civilians hostage to its military agenda. When these depots explode, killing soldiers and civilians alike, responsibility is deflected—sometimes onto Israel, sometimes onto a global conspiracy, and sometimes onto a “technical error.” The obvious question—what are these weapons doing there in the first place?—is never answered in Raad’s presence.
His rhetoric is not new. Hezbollah’s tired tactic of warning against civil war has become the bad joke of Lebanese politics, repeated at every critical juncture. But this time, Raad offered the Lebanese a binary choice: accept Hezbollah’s arms or start paving the sea, a term which is used to indicate the impossibility of things . Frankly, the second option sounds less destructive.
The tragic comedy is that the same party that threatens the state if it touches its weapons is also the first to beg foreign mediators for a ceasefire at the onset of any clash with Israel. Just recently, Hezbollah rushed to secure a U.S.-brokered truce. Today, it lectures the public on steadfastness and martyrdom—as if the Lebanese people suffer from collective amnesia.
What is most absurd is Hezbollah’s expectation that not only should the public tolerate its armed status, but they should applaud it. The party wants the Lebanese to believe that the presence of a foreign-backed militia is not only normal but necessary. And when someone disagrees, accusations of treason and collaboration follow. This political playbook is old, and its stench has reached even parts of Hezbollah’s own base.
The “Paving the Sea” project, as Raad now envisions it, is simply the continuation of Hezbollah’s decades-old policy: wasting time, sinking the country deeper into crises, and blocking every attempt at reform. The only difference is that the sea, at least, remains beautiful even if left unpaved—while Lebanon, dragged under by Hezbollah’s arms, has hit rock bottom.
One cannot help but recall Paving the Sea, the acclaimed novel by Lebanese writer Rashid al-Daif, who depicts Beirut’s glittering façade hiding its seedy underbelly—most vividly in the “public market” for prostitution. Raad’s recent speeches resemble a guided tour of that market: the same glossy patriotic storefront concealing the same rotten merchandise. Hezbollah thrives on this deception, hiding the consequences of its actions behind curtains of slogans. If Raad insists on dying before surrendering his weapons, so be it—but the Lebanese deserve to walk out of this dark alley his party has turned into the country’s fate.
Today, Lebanon faces two clear options: continue living under the mercy of an armed faction serving a foreign agenda, or put an end to the farce. Just as paving the sea is an impossible task, so too is Hezbollah’s long-term domination of the Lebanese state. No matter how long it takes, it will fail—whether under public pressure, suffocating international isolation, or simply because it has become a burden even to those who carry it.
In the end, the sea will remain as it is. But Hezbollah’s weapons will fall—collapsing under their own useless weight. And when that happens, Mohammad Raad may realize that paving the sea would have been far easier than facing a people determined to live under the rule of a state, not the shadow of a militia.
This article originally appeared in Nidaa al-Watan
Makram Rabah is the managing editor at Now Lebanon and an Assistant Professor at the American University of Beirut, Department of History. His book Conflict on Mount Lebanon: The Druze, the Maronites and Collective Memory (Edinburgh University Press) covers collective identities and the Lebanese Civil War. He tweets at @makramrabah
