What was his first reaction? Was he surprised? Angry? Did he panic? Was he satisfied? What exactly did he know that morning about the plan that had been meticulously rustled up for months by Yahya Sinwar and Mohammad Deif, the masterminds behind Al-Aqsa Flood Operation? Did he know what it meant for his party?
These questions remain largely unanswered nearly a year and a half later. We know that Hassan Nasrallah played a key role in fully integrating Hamas into the “Axis of Resistance” and that several meetings took place in Beirut in the months leading up to Oct. 7 to prepare for a large-scale attack on Israel that could change the balance of power.
But, how detailed were these discussions? And if they were truly extensive, wouldn’t Israeli intelligence — that seemed tracking even the color of Hassan Nasrallah’s socks —have been aware?
Very little is known about that crucial moment when Nasrallah made the choice — or followed the Iranian order — to open a “support front for Gaza,” which ultimately cost him his life.
What is known, however, is that Nasrallah had grown so influential within the Iranian axis in recent years that it seems highly unlikely he did not play a significant role in the decision-making process. More importantly, whoever made the final call committed a monumental miscalculation — something Hezbollah’s senior officials now acknowledge in private — by underestimating Israel’s determination to change the regional equation after the Oct. 7 attack, regardless of the political, diplomatic and human cost, including its hostages’ lives.
Nasrallah believed he could wage war halfway — reaping the benefits without facing the consequences. The reality was quite the opposite: on Oct. 8, 2023, Nasrallah signed his own death warrant. And to a lesser extent, he also sealed the fate of the party and the axis he had spent his life building.
One hundred and forty-nine days. That’s how long it took Hezbollah to bury its leader in the absence of the risk of being bombed by Israeli warplanes. In what seems as a bid to drive the humiliation to its peak and underscore that a new era had begun, Israeli jets flew low over the Camille Chamoun Sports City Stadium as the funeral was taking place.
This Sunday was marked by fervor, devotional trance, prayers, tears, grand speeches and proudly chanted slogans. Tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of people filled the streets, allowing Hezbollah to prove that it still has significant popular support — though this assessment comes with many nuances.
Delegations from across the “Axis of Resistance”— from Iraq, Yemen and Iran — were present to remind whoever had doubts, when the party was under relentless bombardment, that Hezbollah still has, at least on paper, some “allies.”
Hezbollah sought to stage a show of popular, symbolic and political strength. In terms of the first two, it largely succeeded. But on the political front, much more will be needed to silence the lingering question on the lips of all Lebanese, both supporters and opponents, that Sunday: was it a man or a militia that was buried?
Hezbollah will, of course, outlive its leader — just as other Lebanese parties and non-state organizations have before, with varying degrees of success. But, it will never be the same.
At the height of his glory, Nasrallah had turned it into an “invincible” hydra — a regional army, a political party, a social organization, and an international mafia at the same time. His genius did not lie in military strategy, organizational prowess, or sheer political acumen. Rather, it was his charisma and bonhomie that enabled him to make his supporters accept anything in the name of the fight against Israel and the defense of a long-marginalized community.
He invited himself into the living rooms and into the heads of all those who so sacralized one or other of these causes as to make them forget everything else: the raised finger, the threats, the assassinations, the coups de force, the massacres and the pointless wars. He was able to make the Shiite community forget that Hezbollah was an Iranian creation, at odds with Lebanese Shiite history, and that although the party had restored their pride, it demanded ever greater sacrifice in return.
He was able to make the Palestinian progressive factions forget that he was leading a fundamentalist Islamist organization which, both in its ideology and in its actions, is as good as its Sunni counterparts.
Nasrallah was the voice and face of Hezbollah and the Axis. That Axis has collapsed, just as the party’s regional influence has waned. But what remains of this today? What does the post-Nasrallah era hold?
Once again, the questions are many. Its high command has been decimated. Its founder is on his knees. Other Lebanese fear and/or despise it. The Arab states have cast it into disgrace. Its coffers are empty. Anger is rising. And the Israeli-American tutelage leaves it no room to breathe. Can it reinvent itself?
Could it become just another Lebanese political party? Nothing in its words or actions suggests so. While significant tactical divisions exist within the party — between those advocating compromise and those who see it as an existential threat — this does not, for now, amount to a real challenge to the core vision of the Iran-backed militia-party.
Hezbollah will be committing suicide if it turns its weapons against the state. It will betray its own identity if it agrees to lay them down. It is like a wounded beast— still capable of striking a fatal blow to its opponent but no longer able to save itself.
This is Nasrallah’s main legacy: isolating the Shiites in Lebanon and the region; dragging the country into two devastating wars, with even greater losses for his own community; aiding Bashar al-Assad in massacring his people; allowing Israel to occupy southern Lebanon once again; and, above all, enabling the Israel- U.S. duo. to impose tutelage over Lebanon.
Is that not reason enough to finally turn the page?
This article was originally published in French in L'Orient Le-Jour and was translated by Joelle El Khoury.