Netanyahu’s Plea to Lebanese Citizens Meets Indifference in Beirut
In a direct appeal to the Lebanese public, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu issued a warning on Tuesday, urging them to rise against Hezbollah or face destruction on a scale similar to Gaza. Speaking to the diverse population of Lebanon—Christians, Druze, Sunni, and Shia Muslims—Netanyahu stated that all were suffering due to Hezbollah’s ongoing conflict with Israel. “Reclaim your country,” he implored.
However, the streets of Beirut on Wednesday morning were largely unmoved by Netanyahu’s message. In neighborhoods across the city, from Shia to Sunni and Christian areas, residents expressed apathy or outright dismissal of the Israeli leader’s words.
“Yes, we heard what he said, but no one here listens to Netanyahu,” said Yusuf Habbal, 31, a shopkeeper in the Sunni neighborhood of Tariq El Jdideh. Habbal, while preparing the traditional Lebanese dessert Kunafah, voiced the frustrations of many. “It was Israel that occupied Palestine and Lebanon. They are the ones fueling this conflict.”
Despite rejecting Netanyahu’s call, Habbal admitted dissatisfaction with Hezbollah as well. “We’ve never supported Hezbollah’s actions. They are dragging us into a war we don’t want.”
The situation in Lebanon has grown more tense since Hezbollah, an armed Shia group with greater military strength than Lebanon’s own army, launched rocket attacks on northern Israel in response to Hamas’ assault on October 7. Israel, retaliating, has escalated its military operations in Lebanon, including bombing raids in Beirut.
For many, like Mohammed Khair, a 43-year-old barber in Tariq El Jdideh, the threat is ever-present. “The bombs are hitting close to us. It’s terrifying, but nobody here is going to turn on Hezbollah just because Netanyahu said so.”
Older residents like 76-year-old Tarraf Nasser echoed similar sentiments. “Netanyahu is always talking, but nobody listens. He’s not really speaking to us,” he said while passing by a local barber shop.
In the Christian neighborhood of Achrafieh, the sense of helplessness was palpable. Antoine, a 75-year-old retiree, reflected on the reality of Lebanon’s fractured political landscape. “Netanyahu isn’t our leader. He should focus on his own people. Yes, we need to free ourselves from Iran’s influence, but we don’t have the power, the weapons, or leaders who truly represent us.”
Some, like Maya Habib, a 35-year-old shop owner, acknowledged Netanyahu’s message but questioned its practicality. “He warned us not to get involved, and now it’s our war. People here are paying attention, but what can we do? We don’t even have a president.”
In neighborhoods where Hezbollah’s presence dominates, such as Mar Elias, loyalty to the group remains firm. “We stand with Hezbollah, no matter what,” said Fadi Ali Kiryani, 52, a corner shop owner. Despite Netanyahu’s warning of devastation akin to Gaza, Kiryani was unfazed. “Even if it gets worse than Gaza, we will still raise Hezbollah’s flag.”
In nearby shops, similar views prevailed. Fany Sharara, a 75-year-old store owner, declared Hezbollah as the only force protecting Lebanon. “Netanyahu will never change my mind. He’s a murderer, and Israel has the whole world behind it. We have only Hezbollah defending us.”
Yet not everyone shares such conviction. Ali Shoura, a 24-year-old jewelry shop owner, expressed a weary cynicism about the entire situation. “Nobody cares about us—whether it’s the Lebanese government, Hezbollah, Israel, or anyone else. It’s all just theater, and we are the ones paying the price.”
Despite Netanyahu’s appeal, the complex and fractured political landscape in Lebanon, combined with deep-seated mistrust of Israeli motives, leaves the likelihood of internal dissent against Hezbollah slim.
