The Gaza Scenario Repeats in Lebanon, with Similar and Dramatic Themes

The occupation of Gaza is being repeated in Lebanon, with similar and dramatic themes. The southern region of Lebanon is being emptied of its inhabitants, occupied militarily, and its territory is being fragmented. Tanks and other armored vehicles are stationed, waiting for the slightest movement or gesture, ready to fire without warning.

Last Sunday, the Lebanese Ministry of Health announced that Israeli army strikes on the south of the country had killed 14 people, despite the recent extension of the ceasefire. Meanwhile, "diplomacy" is being staged with the usual speeches and carefully crafted words. However, to evoke diplomacy in this context of occupation is a misnomer, and it would be more accurate to say that it is a discussion between the dominant and the dominated.

The temptation is great to speak of repetition, as if history were unfolding mechanically. However, what is happening in southern Lebanon is not a simple copy of a text already written elsewhere, but rather a reconfiguration of the same logic, adapted to a different terrain and recognizable in its effects: the depopulation of border areas, dense militarization, and constant surveillance.

In these conditions, words falter. To say and express the word diplomacy is almost an abuse of language. Diplomacy implies, in principle, a certain symmetry between the parties, or at least the mutual recognition of a legitimacy to negotiate. However, when a territory like southern Lebanon is under direct military pressure, when its inhabitants are forced to flee, when force dictates the rhythm, what opens up is not a balanced negotiation space; rather, it is a framework where one imposes and the other tries to limit losses.

The often-cited parallel with Gaza is less about a strict identity of situations than about a common perception: that of a fragmented territory, under surveillance, where the continuity of civilian life is broken. In both cases, the central question remains that of the status of the populations. What becomes of a society when its inhabitants are displaced, dispersed, and kept at a distance from their own places of life? This is not just a humanitarian crisis; it is a profound transformation of the relationship to the territory, to memory, and to the future.

In southern Lebanon, as in Gaza, as in the West Bank, this reality produces a double effect. On the one hand, it installs a form of numbness, and on the other hand, it fuels dynamics of resistance, political or symbolic, that inscribe themselves in the long term.

The question that remains is: how to get out of this circle? As long as force remains the primary language, "discussions" risk being mere suspensions, moments of management rather than resolution. To give meaning to the word diplomacy would require reintroducing real guarantees, recognized frameworks, and the ability to enforce commitments. In other words, to shift the center of gravity from the power relationship to the law.

Until then, the inhabitants of Lebanon (and, of course, Gaza) live in this uncertain in-between, where occupation is not always declared, but never really absent. And each passing day prolongs a situation whose outcome remains, for many, out of reach.