The whispers from Geneva are contradictory. A framework for a US-Iran understanding is reportedly taking shape. But the small print is the problem. And the small print, for Lebanon, is everything.
Sources familiar with the backchannel talks tell me the core bargain is straightforward enough. Tehran limits uranium enrichment. Washington eases some oil sanctions. Both sides save face. But the peripheral issues, the ones that keep regional strongmen awake at night, are left deliberately vague.
Hezbollah is the elephant in the room. The party's military wing is the most powerful force in Lebanon. Its political arm dominates the cabinet. No deal that ignores the Shia militia's arsenal can be called a peace settlement. Yet the emerging agreement reportedly contains no explicit demand for disarmament. The language, I am told, is 'aspirational.' A word diplomats use when they want to kick a can down a very long road.
What does this mean for Beirut? Nothing good. The Lebanese state is in freefall. The currency has lost 98% of its value. The presidency is vacant. The army can't pay its soldiers. Into this vacuum steps Hezbollah, as it always does. Without a binding international commitment to roll back its influence, the party will simply wait out the diplomatic storm.
There is chatter in Whitehall of 'sequencing'. First the nuclear deal, then a push on Hezbollah's role. But that assumes Iran will forget the $20 billion it has invested in the group's missile programme. It won't. And the Biden administration has little appetite for another Middle Eastern quagmire. Yemen taught them that.
The Israeli calculation is harder. Jerusalem views Hezbollah's precision-guided munitions as a red line. If the US deal allows Iran to divert funds to Lebanon, a pre-emptive strike becomes more likely. That would shatter any hope of a Lebanese respite. The British Embassy in Beirut is bracing for a summer of tensions.
So where does this leave the ordinary Lebanese? Stuck. Trapped between a bankrupt state and a heavily armed faction that answers to Tehran. The deal, if it comes, will be greeted with relief in world capitals. But on the streets of Tripoli and Sidon, the mood is cynical. They have seen this movie before. The pause button is pressed. The underlying crisis remains.
One senior diplomat put it to me bluntly: 'Everyone wants a headline. No one wants a solution.' Lebanon's tragedy is that it is always the footnote.
