And the agreement also ensures that Lebanon is held accountable for this.
Written by: Sami Halabi He is the policy director of Badil | The Alternative Policy Institute.
Israel's U.S. Ambassador Yechiel Leiter and Lebanon's U.S. Ambassador Nada Hamadeh signed an agreement on June 26 at the State Department in Washington.
After months of war, pressure, and diplomatic choreography, Lebanon effectively signed a letter of intent with Israel. The reactions were immediate: widespread condemnation from Lebanese political actors—including Hezbollah and its allies—as well as street protests and media criticism.
There are many problems with the signed document: it is unrealistic, politically explosive, and constitutionally worrisome. But perhaps its worst aspect is that it paves the way for a new war, and for Lebanon to be held responsible for it.
An impossible agreement
Israel has long known the value of loosely worded interim agreements, declarations, and deferred issues. The Oslo Accords are also called the „Declaration of Principles,” which set out „general guidelines” for future negotiations. Borders, settlements, Jerusalem, refugees, security, and sovereignty were left for later; and „later” never came. The interim architecture hardened into a reality in which Israel maintained its freedom of action, expanded apartheid, occupation, and endless territorial annexation, and blamed the Palestinians for failing to meet conditions it could never fully control.
Lebanon is not Palestine, and neither the documents nor the contexts are the same. But the diplomatic logic is similar enough to be alarming: Lebanon and Israel, while voicing their „desire to end the conflict,” avoid definitive answers. This may seem flexible, but in practice it is likely to be a trap.
The framework that Lebanon has now adopted is difficult, if not impossible, to implement in the form it has been described, primarily because the Lebanese state cannot simply remove Hezbollah by decree.
Hezbollah's weapons are not just a sad military reality; they are also embedded in a political narrative about deterrence, community protection, and the failure of the state to defend its territory. This structure cannot be dismantled by a text signed in Washington.
The Lebanese army cannot suddenly become the sovereign deterrent force that everyone supposedly wants to see, while it is underfunded, overstretched, politically compromised, and dependent on external military assistance that is limited by Israeli and American „red lines” themselves.
In fact, Lebanon is expected to act as a sovereign state precisely where its sovereign capabilities are weakest. It is expected to control armed actors it cannot defeat, negotiate with an enemy it cannot deter, and accept obligations whose enforcement depends on powers that do not consider Lebanese sovereignty as a primary objective.
Constitutional challenges, tactical delays
The most dangerous clauses are those that go beyond the battlefield. Any language that obliges parties to cease all „hostile” or „adverse” actions in international political or legal forums should alarm ordinary Lebanese, victims of war crimes, and defenders of international law.
Lebanon cannot compete militarily with Israel, so its only remaining tools are diplomatic, legal, and political action. Limiting these tools—such as Lebanon’s accession to the International Criminal Court—in the name of „de-escalation” amounts to disarming the state in those areas where it still has some influence.
There is also a deeper constitutional problem. Given the extent of the backlash, the Lebanese president and prime minister may ultimately want to present the statement as a political understanding rather than a binding agreement. But labels do not sort out the content. If the text is about war and peace, territorial arrangements, international obligations, security deployments, recognition, withdrawal, or restrictions on Lebanon’s legal behavior, then it is no longer just diplomatic theater.
Lebanon's constitutional order does not give anyone the right to assume such obligations alone. Treaties and international agreements require institutional approval. Matters of war, peace, and national security fall under the purview of the Council of Ministers, and major decisions require more than the will of the president or the consent of the prime minister.
A declaration of intent cannot be used to smuggle contractual obligations outside the state’s own constitutional safeguards. Lebanon’s constitution also obliges the state to preserve its territorial integrity, which means that no declaration can quietly normalize the Israeli security presence or make Lebanese sovereignty dependent on Israel’s judgment on Hezbollah’s disarmament.
This is where the deal becomes politically explosive. Hezbollah and the Amal Movement, along with their allies and other opposition figures, have every interest in pushing the declaration into Lebanon’s „delay machine.” They can rightly argue that it requires cabinet approval. They can question whether it constitutes normalization. They can demand clarification on the Israeli withdrawal. They can oppose any clause that limits Lebanon’s right to hold Israel legally accountable. They can drag the process into committees, constitutional wrangling, and procedural paralysis.
Normally, this would be treated as another example of Lebanon's political dysfunction. In this case, the irony is sharper: delay may be the least dangerous option.
Preparing for the next war
The real deal will not be decided in Beirut. It will be shaped by the broader regional trajectory involving the United States, Iran, and mediators. The real deal is not what Lebanon signs, but what Tehran tells Hezbollah to do; what Washington is willing to guarantee; what Israel thinks it can extract; and whether the broader U.S.-Iran deal will hold up long enough to prevent another regional escalation.
In the short term, what happens in the Islamabad process is actually more important than the text of the declaration. If the regional process is extended beyond the initial 60 days, Hezbollah can absorb the text, avoid open confrontation, and wait. If it collapses, the declaration will not hold back the battlefield.
By signing a document in this way, hoping that it will eventually be consigned to the dustbin of history, the heads of the Lebanese government may believe they are buying time, and perhaps they are. But they are buying it with a document that will outlive the political moment that created it.
For US President Donald Trump to feel he has achieved something might buy him a few months. It might help Lebanon get to the Israeli election calendar, the US midterm elections, or the next stage in the US-Iranian process. It might even make tactical sense for a president and prime minister trying to maneuver between Hezbollah, Israel, Washington, and Tehran. But everything comes at a price.
As loose as this agreement is, Lebanon is not signing a symbolic memorandum without consequences. If Hezbollah does not comply—and Hezbollah will not play a meaningful role in this game unless Iran orders it to—Israel can point to the declaration and say: Lebanon has failed. If the ill-equipped Lebanese army cannot be deployed to the extent necessary, Israel can say: Lebanon has failed. If Beirut sues Israel in international legal forums, Israel can say: Lebanon acted in bad faith. If Beirut refuses to accept Israeli security conditions, Israel can say: Lebanon has turned its back on peace.
Therefore, the declaration does not prevent war. Instead, it creates the legal and political language through which the next war will be justified.
The tragedy is that Lebanon has finally been called upon to act as a state, after years of its sovereignty being violated by Israel, hollowed out by Hezbollah, manipulated by regional powers, and neglected by its own political class. But instead of using this moment to define what would be required for true sovereignty—a capable military, a constitutional process, a defense doctrine, legal accountability, territorial integrity, and internal consensus—it has entered a framework that reveals how little of that sovereignty it currently has.
