So it has come to this. Israeli warplanes have once again violated the sovereignty of Lebanon, striking the heart of Beirut in what is euphemistically termed a ‘targeted operation’. The British Foreign Office, ever the dutiful relic, has activated its diplomatic channels, presumably to issue stern words and look grave in photographs. One cannot help but feel a pang of historical deja vu, as if the shades of Palmerston and Cromer are shuffling in their graves, muttering about the ‘Eastern Question’.
Let us be clear: this is not a spontaneous act of aggression. It is the logical endpoint of a regional system that has, for decades, treated the Levant as a laboratory for great power ambitions. Israel, a state forged in the crucible of 1948, has long adopted a policy of pre-emptive strikes and asymmetric deterrence. The assassination of Hezbollah figures in Damascus, the bombing of Iranian assets in Syria – these are the rhythm of a perpetual low-intensity war. Now, Beirut joins the list.
But why now? The answer, as always, lies in the intricate dance of domestic politics and regional alignments. Prime Minister Netanyahu, fighting for his political survival amid corruption trials and a fractured coalition, needs a distraction. Hezbollah, flush with Iranian hardware and confidence, has been emboldened by the chaos in Syria. The result is a predictable cycle of escalation, each side testing the other’s red lines until someone in London has to activate the ‘diplomatic channels’.
And what of those channels? The British response is a masterclass in performative diplomacy. We shall issue condemnations, call for restraint, and perhaps impose symbolic sanctions. But let us not delude ourselves: the United Kingdom is a diminished power. Our influence in the Middle East has waned since the Suez Crisis, and our role today is that of a concerned bystander, not a decisive actor. The ‘special relationship’ with America ensures we are briefed but not consulted.
The irony is rich. The self-proclaimed guardian of international law, the state that lectures others about proportionality, has itself been party to far more indiscriminate bombardments in Gaza and the West Bank. The bombing of Beirut is a reminder that morality in foreign policy is a luxury of the powerful. Israel acts because it can, and because the international community, for all its hand-wringing, will do nothing of consequence.
What then of the Lebanese? They are the perennial victims of this geopolitical chess game, their sovereignty trampled by both Israel and their own feckless politicians. Hezbollah, the state within a state, drags the country into conflicts it cannot afford. The people of Beirut, who suffered through the civil war, the Israeli occupation, and the port explosion, now face another round of terror from the skies.
We are witnessing the death throes of the post-1945 order. The United Nations is impotent. The European Union is a bureaucratic talking shop. And the United States, exhausted by two decades of war in the Middle East, is retrenching. Into this vacuum steps the jackal of nationalism, cloak of religiosity, dagger of state violence.
So yes, activate the channels. Send the sternly worded notes. But do not pretend that any of it matters. In the long arc of history, the bombing of Beirut is just another skirmish in a war that has no end, a war that confirms the grim maxim that the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.
And Britain? We continue our slow decline with a stiff upper lip and a misplaced sense of moral authority. The Victorian era is dead. The world has moved on. But some of us still write columns comparing current events to the Fall of Rome. The only question is whether we are the barbarians or the decadent empire.
