Lebanon-Israel Tripartite Framework

“The United States, Israel, and Lebanon Sign the Trilateral Framework”. “Israel, Lebanon sign initial agreement after US-mediated talks”. It was a great way to turn on my phone on Saturday night after 25 hours without hearing any news.

There is something deeply appealing about a clean agreement. A tripartite framework. Clear responsibilities. A sense that, this time, the pieces might align. The emerging arrangement with Lebanon has all of those qualities. It also carries with it the weight of experience, and experience is far less forgiving than hope.

At its core, the agreement rests on a bold, even transformative premise. Lebanon commits to disarming Hezbollah. On paper, that single sentence redraws the map of the region. Hezbollah is not merely a militia operating in Lebanon. It is embedded in the Lebanese state, politically and militarily. Asking Lebanon to disarm Hezbollah is, in effect, asking a government to dismantle one of its own organs. That is not impossible. But it is extraordinarily difficult.

There are other strategic advantages. A Lebanon that asserts sovereignty over all armed groups is, almost by definition, a Lebanon less tethered to Iran. Hezbollah has long served as Tehran’s forward operating arm. Indeed, it was created for precisely this purpose. If it is weakened or dismantled, Iran’s reach into the eastern Mediterranean shrinks accordingly. For Israel, this would not only reduce an immediate military threat but would also shift the broader regional balance.

The mechanism is equally important. The Lebanese Army is tasked with disarming Hezbollah. This is meant to anchor the process in Lebanese legitimacy rather than impose it from outside. In theory, it offers a path to internal stability without the stigma of foreign occupation or coercion.

In theory.

We do not operate in theory. We operate in history. And history is unambiguous. This has been tried before. After the Second Lebanon War in 2005, United Nations Security Council Resolution 1701 established a framework in which the Lebanese Army, supported by international forces, would assert control in the south and prevent Hezbollah from rearming. It did not happen. More recently, after the November 2024 ceasefire, similar expectations were placed on the Lebanese state, with similarly disappointing results.

The reason is not difficult to identify. The Lebanese Army is not a neutral instrument. It is, to varying degrees, penetrated by Hezbollah. This is not a criticism of individual soldiers, many of whom serve honorably. It is a structural reality of a country where sectarian identities and political affiliations blur the lines between state and non-state actors. Expecting such an institution to “defang” Hezbollah is not just optimistic. It borders on wishful thinking.

There is an old saying, often attributed to Stephen King: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. By the time we reach a third attempt, responsibility is shared. The agreement with Lebanon risks becoming that third attempt.

None of this means that the effort is misguided. On the contrary, it may be the best available option. Diplomacy often involves choosing the least imperfect path. But choosing that path does not absolve us of the responsibility to prepare for its likely failure.

And here is where the current discourse is lacking. Much of the public conversation focuses on whether the Lebanese Army will succeed. That is the wrong question. The right question is what happens when it does not.

This is not cynicism. It is planning.

The Israel Defense Forces have reportedly begun repositioning in limited “pilot” areas, creating space for the Lebanese Army to operate while maintaining the ability to reengage if necessary. This is a sensible first step. It tests capability without relinquishing control entirely. But a pilot is not a strategy. It is an experiment. Experiments are useful only if there is a plan for what comes next.

That plan must be defined now, not improvised later. It must be communicated clearly, not only within Israel but also to international partners. It does not have to default to a full-scale Israeli military takeover of southern Lebanon. There are other options. Intensive Israeli support from the air. Training and equipping Lebanese units that prove reliable. Coordinated American involvement to bolster credibility and capacity. Each of these carries risks and costs. All of them, however, are preferable to strategic ambiguity.

Because ambiguity, in this context, is not neutral. It is destabilizing. If Hezbollah believes that failure by the Lebanese Army will not trigger a decisive response, it has every incentive to wait out the process. If international partners are uncertain about Israel’s endgame, their support will be tentative at best. And if Israeli citizens – especially those that live on the Northern Border – are left without a clear sense of the plan, their confidence will erode accordingly.

Agreements are not judged by their intentions. They are judged by their outcomes. The tripartite framework with Lebanon may yet produce a positive outcome. But hope is not a strategy, and optimism is not a plan.

The real test is not whether we can imagine success. It is whether we are prepared for failure.

Good things,

Ari Sacher