You cannot have a ceasefire from one side
A ceasefire brokered by the United States between Israel and Lebanon dissolved almost before the ink could dry, as Hezbollah's leader rejected the agreement as humiliation rather than peace. The framework — which would have required Hezbollah to withdraw from southern Lebanon under Lebanese Armed Forces oversight — was announced Wednesday night, but by Thursday morning strikes continued and a UN peacekeeper lay dead. In the long arc of Lebanon's suffering, this moment joins a familiar sequence: agreements that promise relief, and a ground that refuses to hold them.
- Hezbollah's leader Naim Qassem called the US-brokered deal 'futile' and 'humiliating,' rejecting it outright before the ink had dried — leaving the ceasefire without the consent of the most powerful armed actor in Lebanon.
- Israeli strikes pressed on through Thursday regardless, killing at least eight people across southern Lebanese towns and wounding fifteen more, while a Serbian UN peacekeeper died from mortar wounds near Marjayoun.
- The agreement itself was skeletal — no maps, no implementation mechanism, only a concept of 'pilot' security zones stretching 30 kilometers north of the Israeli border — making enforcement nearly impossible even if all parties had agreed.
- Lebanon's president said the deal could take effect within 24 hours of final approval, but that approval remains absent; the next scheduled round of talks is not until June 22.
- With over 3,500 dead, more than a million displaced, and Hezbollah calculating that resistance carries more political capital than a peace it did not negotiate, the prospects for this agreement are fragile at best.
The United States announced a ceasefire between Israel and Lebanon on Wednesday night, but by Thursday morning the agreement was already coming apart. Hezbollah's leader Naim Qassem rejected it outright, calling the negotiations humiliating and characterizing the deal — which would require Hezbollah to withdraw from southern Lebanon and stop attacking Israel — as surrender dressed in diplomatic language. He claimed to speak for broad segments of the Lebanese people who saw it the same way.
The framework envisioned "pilot" security zones between the Israeli border and the Litani River, roughly 30 kilometers deep, to be controlled exclusively by the Lebanese Armed Forces. In exchange, Israel would halt strikes on Beirut and Hezbollah would cease firing into Israel. The deal emerged from a fourth round of US-mediated talks in Washington — but it came with no maps, no implementation details, and no buy-in from the group that holds the most guns in southern Lebanon.
On the streets of Dahieh, Hezbollah's stronghold in Beirut's southern suburbs, the reaction was immediate. A shopkeeper who has worked there for 25 years told the BBC the deal was not peace but surrender, and that a ceasefire could not hold if only one side observed it. Across the street, a man whose family has run a store for 35 years said his generation, his father's, and his grandfather's had all lived without hope from such negotiations — not from the Israeli people, he was careful to say, but from the Israeli government.
Donald Trump said he had spoken with both Hezbollah and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and that progress was being made, expressing hope that Lebanon might finally know peace. But the ground told a different story. Israeli strikes on Thursday killed at least eight people and wounded fifteen across southern Lebanese towns. A UN peacekeeper — Senior Sergeant Milovan Jovanovic of Serbia — died from mortar wounds sustained near Marjayoun. An Israeli soldier was also killed. Hezbollah said it had struck Israeli troops and vehicles with drones and rockets.
Israeli Defence Minister Israel Katz announced the military would continue its operations to dismantle what he called terrorist infrastructure. Lebanon's president said the agreement could be implemented within 24 hours of final approval — but that approval was nowhere in sight, with the next round of talks not scheduled until June 22.
The rejection was not surprising in context. The war began in March when Hezbollah launched rockets into Israel following an Israeli strike that killed Iran's supreme leader. A previous ceasefire in April had already failed. At least 3,526 people have been killed in Lebanon since the fighting began, and more than one million have been displaced. By refusing the deal, Hezbollah was making a political calculation: that being seen as the only force resisting Israel held more value than being carried along by an agreement it had no hand in shaping. In the space between an unpopular invasion and an unpopular militia, the group found room to maneuver — and Lebanon found itself, once again, caught in between.
The United States announced a ceasefire agreement on Wednesday night, but by Thursday morning it was already unraveling. Hezbollah's leader Naim Qassem released a statement calling the negotiations "futile" and "humiliating" for Lebanon, and rejected the deal outright. He characterized what Israel and Lebanon had agreed to—a framework that would require Hezbollah to withdraw from southern Lebanon and stop attacking Israel—as nothing more than surrender dressed up in diplomatic language. The group, he said, spoke for broad segments of the Lebanese people who saw the agreement the same way.
The ceasefire itself was supposed to work like this: Israel and Lebanon would establish "pilot" security zones in southern Lebanon, areas between the Israeli border and the Litani River stretching roughly 30 kilometers north. The Lebanese Armed Forces would take exclusive control of these zones, and Hezbollah operatives would be banned from them entirely. In exchange, Israel would refrain from bombing Beirut, and Hezbollah would stop firing on Israel. The agreement came after a fourth round of US-mediated talks in Washington. But the deal contained no maps showing where these pilot zones would actually be, and no explanation of how they would function in practice.
On the streets of Beirut's southern suburbs—Dahieh, a Hezbollah stronghold—the skepticism was immediate and visceral. Sami, who has run a shop there for 25 years, told the BBC that a ceasefire cannot work one-sided. "You cannot have a ceasefire from one side, it's going to be an all side or no ceasefire," he said. Israeli strikes had continued on Thursday despite the agreement. "This is surrender. This is not a peace agreement. This is a surrender agreement," he added. Across the street, Hadi, whose family store has operated for 35 years, expressed a deeper hopelessness. He said his generation, his father's generation, and his grandfather's generation had all lived without hope from these negotiations—not from the Israeli people, he clarified, but from the Israeli government.
Donald Trump, who had been brokering the talks, said he had spoken to both Hezbollah and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and that progress was being made. "I think you're going to see things happen over there," he said. He added that it would be nice if Lebanon could finally have peace, noting that the country had been under attack for years and always seemed to be the underdog. But his optimism collided immediately with the reality on the ground.
On Thursday, Israeli strikes continued across southern Lebanon. The Lebanese health ministry reported at least eight people killed and 15 injured in a series of strikes targeting the towns of Sohmor, Masaken, and Arab Al-Jalil. The state-run National News Agency had reported five deaths in Sohmor alone, and another person killed when an Israeli aircraft targeted a motorcycle in Maaroub near Tyre. A UN peacekeeper—Senior Sergeant Milovan Jovanovic, a Serbian—died from wounds sustained when mortar shells struck his position near Marjayoun late Wednesday. The Israeli military said Hezbollah had fired those mortars. An Israeli soldier, Captain Eitan Shmuel Lemberg, was also killed in southern Lebanon. Hezbollah, for its part, said it had targeted Israeli troops and military vehicles with attack drones and rockets in the towns of Qantara and near Beaufort Castle.
Israeli Defence Minister Israel Katz announced that the military would "for the time being, continue its fire and operations on the ground" to "dismantle terrorist infrastructure in the area." The ceasefire, in other words, was not actually a ceasefire—at least not yet. Lebanon's President Joseph Aoun said the agreement "could be implemented within 24 hours of its final approval" by all concerned parties, but that approval was nowhere in sight. The two countries' representatives were scheduled to meet again on June 22 to continue talks toward a comprehensive agreement.
The broader context made the rejection unsurprising. This war began on March 2 when Hezbollah launched rockets into Israel in retaliation for an Israeli strike that killed Iran's supreme leader. Israel responded with an air campaign across Lebanon and a ground invasion in the south. A previous US-brokered ceasefire on April 16 had failed to stop the fighting. Last week, Netanyahu ordered the military to intensify strikes and advance deeper into Lebanon. At least 3,526 people have been killed in Lebanon since the war began, according to the country's health ministry. More than one million people have registered themselves as displaced. Israeli evacuation orders cover more than an eighth of the country. Israel says 26 of its soldiers and four Israeli civilians have been killed.
Hezbollah, a Shia Muslim militia, political party, and social movement, is Lebanon's most powerful group. With support from Iran, it has built an armed force more formidable than the Lebanese army itself. By rejecting the ceasefire outright, the group was making a political calculation: that portraying itself as the only force capable of resisting Israel and fighting on held more advantage than being swept along by a peace agreement it had no hand in negotiating. A majority of Lebanon's population does not support Hezbollah, but there is also little enthusiasm for Israel's invasion. In that space between two unpopular forces, Hezbollah saw room to maneuver.
Citações Notáveis
You cannot have a ceasefire from one side, it's going to be an all side or no ceasefire.— Sami, shopkeeper in Beirut's southern suburbs
This is surrender. This is not a peace agreement. This is a surrender agreement.— Sami, shopkeeper in Beirut's southern suburbs
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why would Hezbollah reject a ceasefire? Isn't that what most people want?
Because they weren't at the table when it was negotiated. Israel and Lebanon made a deal without them, and the deal essentially asks Hezbollah to disarm from a specific territory and stop fighting. From their perspective, that's not peace—that's capitulation.
But the people in Beirut seemed to want it. Didn't they?
Some did. But the people in Dahieh, Hezbollah's stronghold, saw it differently. They'd lived through failed ceasefires before. They watched Israeli strikes continue even as the agreement was being announced. Hard to call that peace.
So what does Hezbollah actually want?
To keep fighting, essentially. Or at least to maintain the option to fight. By rejecting the deal, they position themselves as the only force still resisting Israel. That's politically powerful in Lebanon, even if most people don't support them.
And the Americans? What were they trying to do?
They were trying to broker a broader peace with Iran, which insisted any deal had to include Lebanon. But they didn't have leverage over Hezbollah because Hezbollah wasn't in the room. You can't negotiate with someone who refuses to show up.
So this ceasefire is already dead?
It was dead before it was born. The fighting continued Thursday—eight people killed, a UN peacekeeper dead. The agreement exists on paper. Implementation is another matter entirely.