It is clear that today’s Israeli–American war on Iran is not just a material conflict driven by negotiation dynamics and technical concerns related to the nuclear file. It is primarily a war connected to the future of Iran’s Islamic Republic: first, as a transnational security network, and second, as an internal system revolving around the Supreme Leader and the institutions that support his domestic authority.
This war is also tied to the current Israeli leadership’s thresholds, especially Netanyahu’s, toward the region, and thus to Netanyahu’s political future amid growing popular and international pressure against his “annihilationist” and “militaristic” solutions in response to his post–October 7 political crisis.
Between the future of the Iranian regime and Netanyahu’s political survival, these “existential” war repercussions drive the “active observer” (whether pro- or anti-resistance) to adopt sweeping political imaginaries—first: “liberating Iran from Khomeinism,” and second, conversely: “toppling Netanyahu and achieving the long-delayed defeat of Israel.”
But in reality, the warmongers rarely participate in launching wars, and certainly do not understand the reasons for starting them or the conditions for stopping them. Instead, they turn into spectators, cheerleaders, and remain powerless to act creatively or productively in politics, as if these regimes and their wars have become for the “active observer” a vehicle for expressing a personalized politics divorced from historical context.
The October 7 Dilemma: Between National Liberation and the Depletion of Peoples
What happened on October 7 is not merely a passing event but a milestone within the broader context of national liberation and the struggle for Palestinian political leverage in negotiations with Israel. Yet, this interpretation clashes with what can be termed a “permanent blood-crisis.” That is, resorting to armed violence as the sole means of gain inevitably leads to a depletion cycle that prolongs conflict without necessarily benefiting the people.
One can point to counterexamples that highlight this dilemma: look at the PLO’s gains in Lebanon, the rocket campaigns in southern Lebanon, or even the outcomes of the Second Palestinian Intifada. These experiences demonstrate that turning armed struggle into a constant strategic platform puts us squarely in Israel’s preferred arena, where large-scale regional wars are their forte.
The notion of “permanent jihad”—whether as rhetoric or strategy—by itself becomes a dilemma, not a people’s victory. It reproduces a cycle of violence that keeps societies hostage to forces with technological and military superiority, not in favor of those seeking freedom and dignity.
From this standpoint, Lebanon has been living since October 7 in a crisis tied to that date, now possible to call the “October 7 crisis,” which forms the real political title of the current crisis: trying to forge a new era under the weight of this regional variable.
Can a war change the Lebanese system? The answer is: no. However, shifts in the balance of power among combatants, and losses by some players, can produce a new political landscape, albeit not because the war itself was the main driver.
What reinforces this theory is what happened in the Israel–Iran confrontation, which ended with former U.S. President Donald Trump declaring: “Congratulations to the world, it is time for peace.” The discourse reverted to negotiation.
In contrast, the confrontation between Israel and Hezbollah did not lead to negotiations, but revealed weaknesses in Hezbollah’s political and military structure, paving the way for a new kind of authority. Yet this authority has not managed to reshape itself outside Hezbollah’s framework, as the group remains a foundational Lebanese force, and no alternative has so far fulfilled the roles that twentieth-century parties did.
The War on Iran: Destructive Imaginaries
Despite the far-reaching implications of this war for the political futures of Iran and Israel, it is odd to imagine grand transformative political ambitions amid widespread political drought and, notably, in the absence of clear, balanced political-security alternatives, both in Iran and Israel at this particular moment. Who is leading the “change” project in Iran today? Donald Trump? Netanyahu himself? Reza Pahlavi? The Iranian diaspora opposition? And who will stand against Netanyahu in Israel? Ben Gvir? Bennett? The West Bank settlers? Tel Aviv’s liberals?
For Israel, it is strange to think that Netanyahu is suffering a war crisis when, in fact, these wars have served as opportunities to revitalize his power after successive internal and intelligence failures since October 7. Despite all the sacrifices, the “support fronts” have become political tools for Netanyahu domestically. In Lebanon, he turned his crisis into an opportunity—his “October 7 catastrophe” became a “victory” that saved his political career.
As for Iran, it is equally strange to imagine that war, as a tool in itself, is the starting point of a sustainable political transition, especially given what happened after the Iraq war. That war began with “toppling Saddam Hussein” and ended in sectarian wars, a fragmented state, and the rise of militant fundamentalist groups.
Naturally, today’s war won’t produce a new political option or climate outside the current context. It is just a repositioning of the forces to determine who is strongest at the table in the current phase. And this repositioning affects not only the warring states but also those influenced by the conflict, especially Lebanon.
Lebanese, Syrians, Palestinians, and Iraqis are waiting for the outcome of the war as if it were a regional game-changer. But “changing the region” doesn’t mean transforming the ruling political structures. And for anyone hoping for radical societal or political transformation, war proved a poor bet in the absence of well-defined alternatives beyond superficial security solutions.
Alternatives to War: Rebuilding Our Societies
The objectives are clear: avoid deadly wars on our lands; protect our people from endless “fast death”; safeguard our sovereignty against ongoing Israeli violations; eliminate militia-based structures backed by external powers; achieve minimum levels of societal cohesion and solidarity amid assaults. These objectives require multiple levels of political intervention, including the “current state level,” initiatives by states, and the “broader societal level.”
At the first level, the regional state level, today this is represented by several Arab initiatives that seek to limit Netanyahu’s power and the strength of the Israeli military apparatus. At the same time, they are negotiating with Iran-backed militias in order to disarm them and unify strategic decision-making in Iraq and Lebanon. Despite some progress in disarming illegal groups, confronting Israeli aggression remains a daunting challenge. Political-diplomatic pressure alone may not suffice without clear American red lines, backed by military and economic pressure.
The second—and most crucial—level is rebuilding public opinion. Wars mute “domestic politics.” The roar of rockets and jets cements “political silence” over issues that affect workers and other harmed groups. It also sidelines those opposed to war or those wanting to influence decision-making about war’s management.
Why public opinion? Because today there are those who bet on the personality of the next prime minister. In this context, the name Nawaf Salam comes up. He has shown in earlier phases the ability to form a government that could push forward an advanced agreement with the IMF. But questions remain about President Joseph Aoun and his independence in managing the Lebanese file, given his history in brokering settlements among rival factions, especially after appointing former minister Ali Hamieh as reconstruction adviser in the context of the World Bank’s recent $250 million support for Lebanon.
Today, forces of “change” are expected to enter the existing system’s entry points, seeking opportunities to exploit internal contradictions and gain political gains. But has the war helped these forces launch their first round of negotiations about the system? The answer: no. The real answer will only emerge after the 2026 parliamentary elections, a challenge that does not appear hopeful, especially after recent municipal election results. Yet, contrary to the need to engage amid these dramatic upheavals, Lebanon’s “sectarian pole” suffers from political meekness that entrenches its inability and weak initiative.
For comparison: Samir Geagea returned from prison to active participation in the consociational system; Michel Aoun did likewise after returning from exile, becoming the senior partner in government during his presidency through his large parliamentary bloc, ministerial representation, and alliances with Hezbollah, Amal, and other “resistance axis” parties.
These significant contradictions at the presidential and executive levels confirm that public opinion—anchored in strong popular and grassroots energy—is the only guarantee for the coming phase, especially since the prime minister–designate is preparing for a political journey that requires clear differentiation from today’s dominant internal forces.
