Hezbollah, weakened by war and isolation, faces growing internal and external pressure to disarm and integrate into Lebanon’s political system, offering the country a rare chance to reclaim sovereignty and reform.

When U.S. Deputy Envoy to the Middle East Morgan Ortagus recently visited Lebanon, her message was unequivocal: Hezbollah must disarm. Speaking to the LBCI news outlet, Ortagus reignited a long-standing debate over the group’s weapons, a debate that has smoldered in Lebanon for decades but now arrives at a decisive juncture. In January, Lebanon’s newly elected president, former army chief Joseph Aoun, delivered an inaugural address centered on a foundational principle: the state must hold a monopoly on the use of force. His position was unambiguous—the armed power of the Lebanese state should be singular and sovereign.

This demand runs up against a stark reality. Hezbollah remains the only Lebanese faction that refused to disarm following the country’s brutal 1975–1990 civil war. Justifying its continued armament as a necessary bulwark against Israeli occupation in the south, Hezbollah entrenched itself as a parallel military power. For years, it has ignored international mandates, including United Nations Security Council Resolutions 1559 and 1701, both of which explicitly call for the group’s disarmament. It has also flouted the Taif Agreement, the accord that formally ended the civil war and required all militias, Lebanese and foreign alike, to disband. Hezbollah’s long-standing posture suggests no intention of laying down its arms voluntarily.

However, the strategic landscape has shifted. A year of sustained conflict with Israel has left Hezbollah battered, both militarily and economically. Once hailed as the most formidable non-state actor in the world, the Iran-backed Shia group now finds itself diminished. Losses on the battlefield have been staggering—most of its senior leadership has been killed, thousands of fighters have fallen, and its once-abundant weapon caches have been decimated. Key logistical assets, including control of Beirut’s airport and smuggling corridors along the Syrian border, have slipped from Hezbollah’s grasp.

Crucially, the transnational land corridor linking Lebanon to Iran via Syria and Iraq—vital for weapons transport—has been severed, disrupting the group’s supply lines and access to Iranian-supplied arms hidden in Syrian tunnels. Iran itself, grappling with mounting pressure from the United States, is no longer in a position to provide the scale of support Hezbollah has grown dependent on.

A ceasefire with Israel brokered in November introduced a new dynamic. As part of that deal, Hezbollah withdrew its heavy weaponry from its traditional stronghold south of the Litani River, roughly 18 miles from the Israeli border. In a striking display of enforcement, the Lebanese Army has begun dismantling Hezbollah’s military infrastructure in the south and even launched raids into Hezbollah-dominated suburbs of Beirut—actions previously thought unimaginable just months earlier.

Amid this new pressure, Hezbollah appears to be recalibrating. In what analysts have described as a “wait and see” posture, the group is regrouping from its losses and adjusting to a political landscape no longer tilted in its favor. Internally, it is reportedly split into two camps. One camp recognizes the gravity of its recent military defeat and is open to transitioning into a purely political movement. The other clings to the belief that Hezbollah’s raison d’être lies in its armed resistance to Israel—without that mission, the group argues, it ceases to have legitimacy.

Yet, after decades of operating as a state within a state, Hezbollah must now come to terms with a hard truth: it can no longer unilaterally drag Lebanon into regional conflicts or use its arsenal to paralyze the Lebanese state. That said, any attempt to forcibly disarm the group risks plunging the country back into conflict. A more pragmatic approach—one rooted in negotiation—is essential. Lebanon’s political leadership must persuade Hezbollah that disarmament does not have to mean dissolution. Rather, it could represent transformation.

One potential path would be for Hezbollah to place its remaining arsenal—believed to include long-range missiles—under the control of the Lebanese state. Its fighters, estimated to number in the thousands, could be integrated into the Lebanese Armed Forces. Alternatively, a new national defense strategy might create a specialized paramilitary unit within the army that incorporates Hezbollah’s personnel under state authority. Either model would aim to preserve some of Hezbollah’s organizational identity while ending its independent military command.

Hezbollah is likely to remain a significant force in Lebanese politics, but its era of hegemony is ending. The old order—marked by unchecked Iranian influence and Shia ascendancy—has collapsed under the weight of its contradictions. Lebanon now stands at a fork in the road: it can either seize this moment to restore its sovereignty and revitalize its pluralist democracy, or it can slide further into paralysis and fragmentation. The group’s defeat opens the door to long-overdue reforms—political, economic, and institutional. The question is whether Lebanon will walk through it.