In the turbulent landscape of Lebanese politics and regional conflict, few groups have commanded as much attention, fear, and debate as Hezbollah. Now, one year after the dramatic assassination of its longtime leader Hassan Nasrallah by Israeli airstrikes in a Beirut suburb, the organization stands at a crossroads—battered, diminished, but far from vanquished.
September 28, 2025, marks a full year since the Israeli military unleashed a devastating campaign against Hezbollah, culminating in Nasrallah’s death. The strikes, which destroyed an entire block and killed not only Nasrallah but also several top officials and an Iranian general, were followed days later by the killing of his successor, Hashem Safieddine. As AP reported, the group’s leadership was decimated, its communications penetrated, and its supply routes from Iran severed after the fall of Bashar Assad’s regime in Syria. Yet, despite these blows, Hezbollah’s story has not ended.
“The loss of this leader was a very painful blow to Hezbollah,” admitted senior Hezbollah political official Mohammed Fneish in an interview with AP. But he insisted, “Hezbollah is not a party in the usual sense that when it loses its leader, the party becomes weak... In a relatively short period of time, it was able to fill all the positions it lost when [leaders] were martyred, and it continued the confrontation.”
This resilience is echoed—albeit with skepticism—by both supporters and adversaries. According to an Israeli military official, Hezbollah’s “influence has declined considerably” and “the likelihood of a large-scale attack against Israel is considered low.” However, the same official warned that the group “is attempting to rebuild its capabilities; efforts are limited but expected to expand.”
The events that followed Nasrallah’s assassination were nothing short of seismic for Lebanon. After the October 8, 2023, Hamas-led attack on southern Israel, Hezbollah opened a “support front” with rocket fire into Israel. The subsequent Israeli invasion of southern Lebanon in October 2024, and a U.S.-brokered ceasefire in late November, left the country scarred. As Al Jazeera noted, about 4,000 people in Lebanon were killed, thousands more injured, and hundreds of thousands displaced during the conflict. The ceasefire’s terms, according to diplomatic sources, were poorly defined—Hezbollah was to disarm in southern Lebanon, and Israel was to withdraw its forces.
Yet, the violence didn’t truly stop. Israeli airstrikes have continued almost daily, targeting what Israel claims are Hezbollah militants and facilities. The United Nations peacekeeping force, UNIFIL, has accused Israel of “continuous violations of this [ceasefire] arrangement, including air and drone strikes on Lebanese territory.”
For Hezbollah, the war’s aftermath brought existential questions. The group lost not just its charismatic leader but also a vital supply route from Iran, with the collapse of Assad’s government in Syria. Despite these setbacks, Hezbollah’s institutions—from healthcare to social services and its armed wing—remain operational. Fneish told AP that the group’s financial situation is “normal,” even as Western officials claim it is receiving up to $60 million per month from undisclosed sources, despite international efforts to cut off funding.
Hezbollah’s political influence, long a defining feature of Lebanese life, has also been tested. The Lebanese government, under pressure from the United States and Saudi Arabia, announced on September 5, 2025, that the Lebanese armed forces would be tasked with planning the group’s disarmament by year’s end—a demand Hezbollah has categorically rejected. “We will never abandon our weapons, nor will we relinquish them,” Naim Qassem, Hezbollah’s newly appointed leader, declared to thousands gathered at Nasrallah’s tomb on the anniversary of his assassination, as reported by Al Jazeera. He vowed the group would “confront any project that serves Israel.”
Such defiance is not without risk. Analysts and diplomats warn that too much pressure to disarm could push Hezbollah toward internal strife. As Michael Young, a Lebanese analyst, observed for Al Jazeera, “No military or political force will not regroup after suffering a major defeat as [Hezbollah] did last year. But are they in a position to mount rockets and bomb northern Israel along the border? No. Are they in a position to fire missiles at towns and cities? No.” Young and others believe that Hezbollah’s “regrouping” is more about tactical survival and maintaining political leverage than preparing for another major confrontation with Israel.
Indeed, the group’s strategy appears to be shifting. With its military capabilities degraded, Hezbollah has turned to diplomacy, sending signals to longtime foes such as Saudi Arabia in an apparent bid to preserve its clout. “We assure you that the arms of the resistance are pointed at the Israeli enemy, not Lebanon, Saudi Arabia or any other place or entity in the world,” Qassem said in a speech on September 19, as cited by Al Jazeera. This outreach, analysts say, reflects a new political reality: Israel and the U.S. have ascended in regional power, while Iran—Hezbollah’s main backer—has been weakened.
Still, the group’s base remains fiercely loyal. In 2025’s municipal elections, Hezbollah and its allies scored overwhelming victories in their traditional strongholds. Many Shiite Lebanese, feeling marginalized and traumatized by war, have rallied around the group, even those who once favored disarmament. As Lebanese journalist Jad Hamouch told AP, “After they saw how Israel is behaving in the region, now they’re saying, no, we want to keep the weapons.”
The Lebanese army, meanwhile, faces its own dilemma. Under-resourced and poorly equipped, it is tasked with disarming a force whose fighters are often better paid, more experienced, and, in many cases, drawn from the same communities as the soldiers themselves. A Western diplomat, speaking to AP on condition of anonymity, summed up the predicament: “I don’t see any coming back on this [decision], but I don’t see how it will go forward either.”
In the streets, the standoff is palpable. Supporters projected Nasrallah’s image onto Beirut’s Raouche Rocks in defiance of government orders, a move seen as both an expression of love and a provocation. Yet, apart from sporadic roadblocks and public demonstrations, Hezbollah has largely avoided open confrontation since the war.
As Lebanon grapples with reconstruction, foreign aid remains elusive. International donors have tied funding to Hezbollah’s disarmament and political reforms, leaving war-battered communities in limbo. The U.S., for its part, has announced a $14.2 million aid package for the Lebanese military, a move viewed by some in Lebanon as an attempt to use the army to further Israeli interests. Parliament Speaker Nabih Berri, a Hezbollah ally, insisted, “[The Lebanese army] will never serve as a border guard for Israel. Its weapons are not weapons of discord, and its mission is sacred: to protect Lebanon and the Lebanese people.”
One year after Nasrallah’s death, Hezbollah is no longer the unassailable power it once was. Its arsenal is diminished, its leadership shaken, and its political future uncertain. Yet, as history has shown, in Lebanon’s ever-shifting landscape, neither victory nor defeat is ever absolute. The group’s next chapter—whether as a diminished militia, a political party, or something entirely unexpected—remains unwritten, but the stakes for Lebanon and the region could not be higher.