Lebanon & Israel: Time to Normalize, Time to Heal

For as long as I can remember, the border with Israel wasn’t just a line on a map. It was a wall in our minds. We’ve been told the same story over and over: that we are enemies. That peace is impossible. That hatred defines who we are. And for too long, we believed it.

But I don’t anymore.

There’s another truth. One I didn’t see until I left Lebanon. One I didn’t feel until I met people on the other side of that wall—people who, like me, wanted more than war stories and sirens.
This isn’t just about what Lebanon deserves—it’s about what’s possible if both sides are ready.

We Are Not Bound by the Past

We’ve spent decades avoiding eye contact, pretending the other didn’t exist—or worse, hoping they didn’t.
And then there’s that time Miss Lebanon took a photo with Miss Israel and definitely did not come up with a lame excuse about being “photobombed.” Sure. Totally believable.

Miss Israel’s Selfie-Photobomb With Miss Lebanon Instagram via Daily Star

That’s how absurd it’s gotten. A photo, a handshake, a polite nod—and suddenly it’s treason. We’ve been taught to panic at any sign of normalcy. And honestly? It’s exhausting.

I’ve seen enough war to know it doesn’t bring dignity. And I’ve seen enough peace elsewhere to know it brings life. If you strip away the propaganda and fear, what’s left is the truth: Lebanon has everything to gain by choosing peace.
And maybe—just maybe—Israel gains something too.

Lebanon Deserves More Than This

I’m from the South. I grew up hearing the Lebanese Army’s air defenses firing to repel Israeli spy planes. The blasts from anti-aircraft guns echoed through our school windows—during exams.
Our breaks were cut short so we could run—not walk—to shelters. That was normal. That was childhood.

But why? Why should another generation grow up in that same fear?
Why should Marjayoun and Nabatieh remain stuck in time, waiting for the next war?
Why should Beirut keep paying the price for decisions made by others, at our expense?

Israel has moved on.
But we haven’t.
And here’s the thing—Israelis might not realize just how much our survival depends on breaking free from this endless cycle.
And we, as Lebanese, have to realize it’s on us to end it.

Beirut, the Phoenix We Forgot We Are

Beirut was the Paris of the Middle East. A hub of culture, trade, energy.
Now, we’re a city fighting just to keep the lights on.

Peace isn’t charity. It’s not surrender. It’s survival.
Normalization with Israel doesn’t erase Lebanon’s identity—it restores its potential. Trade, tourism, energy partnerships—these are opportunities we can take, not because we’re desperate, but because we are ready to rebuild on our terms.

And Israelis? Many of you get this. Some of you still see Beirut the way it was, and the way it can be again. Maybe it’s time we met halfway.

We Are Closer Than We Dare Admit

I’ve met Israelis with Lebanese roots. Jews from Beirut, Tyre, Sidon. Families who still speak the same Arabic dialect my grandmother spoke.
And I’ve met Lebanese people who, quietly, want to visit Tel Aviv—not to provoke anyone, but because they’re curious. Because they wonder if what they’ve heard their entire lives is true.

And then there’s that fear of being caught.
Ah… the famous selfie.
“Oh, I didn’t know they were Israeli!”
Oh, totally. You had no idea. The name ‘Cohen’ didn’t give you the slightest clue, right?
But we keep playing that game. And for what?
We are already closer than we dare admit.
Some of us have worked together. Some of us have shared ideas.
We are not strangers. We just act like we are.

Breaking Free from the Chains of Hatred

Hezbollah doesn’t speak for me. They don’t speak for millions of Lebanese who are tired of burying their futures in someone else’s war.
We’ve been trapped by the belief that we are only strong if we are armed. That we are only free if we are fighting.
But I’ve come to believe the strongest thing we can do is put down the weapons and build something different.

Our parents and grandparents lived through 1948, 1982, 2006.
They inherited wars and passed them down.
We don’t have to.

We can be the generation that breaks the chain.
And no, that’s not betrayal. That’s survival.
For Lebanon.
And yes, for Israel too.

A Lebanon That Chooses Life

One day, there will be flights between Beirut and Tel Aviv.
One day, our students will study in Israeli universities, our businesses will partner openly with Israeli companies, and our hospitals will proudly use Israeli innovations to save lives.

And Israel? You don’t need to extend a hand.
You’ve already done your part. Just stand strong—when we’re ready, we’ll come to you.

We Are the Generation That Can End This

This isn’t about forgetting the past. It’s about ending its hold on us.
This isn’t about erasing history. It’s about choosing to write a new chapter.

Lebanon, you are the cedar tree.
Israel, you are the olive branch.

Both of you stand tall.
Maybe it’s time we grow something together.

Signed,
A Lebanese who believes we deserve better.
And maybe you do, too.

A selection of visuals were created using AI, guided by my direction, to complement the message of this piece.