One year after the devastating war with Israel, Hezbollah finds itself at a crossroads, battered by unprecedented military and political losses but far from defeated. The scars of the conflict, which climaxed with the assassination of its iconic leader Hassan Nasrallah in September 2024, are visible across Lebanon—from the ruined villages of the south to the shifting alliances in Beirut’s corridors of power. Yet, as the group limps into late 2025, both its supporters and adversaries are grappling with a central question: Can Hezbollah survive, regroup, and reclaim its former influence, or is its era as a dominant force truly over?
Hezbollah’s recent struggles are rooted in a war that upended the balance of power in Lebanon and the region. According to Asharq al-Awsat, the group entered 2025 “burdened by deep military and social wounds.” The latest round of hostilities, which erupted after the October 7, 2023, Hamas-led attack on Israel, saw Israel deploy a new, intelligence-driven strategy. No longer content with simply targeting rocket launchers and weapons depots, Israeli forces began striking at the homes of Hezbollah members in southern villages, raising the social cost for the group’s support base. Defense analyst Riad Kahwaji noted that this shift “greatly raised the social cost. The destroyed houses and mass displacement have left the support environment crushed by destruction and hardship, feeding back into Hezbollah’s weakening position both militarily and internally.”
Hezbollah’s once-vaunted military machine, meticulously built since 1985, was shattered in a matter of days. Retired Brigadier General Said Kozah described the scale of the initial Israeli assault: “On the first day of serious fighting, Israel struck around 1,800 targets in the Bekaa, the south, and Beirut’s southern suburb—all weapons depots and storage sites—and destroyed them all.” The group’s elite Radwan Force suffered devastating losses in a series of targeted assassinations, including the infamous “Pager Operation,” which lured fighters into a deadly trap. Israeli intelligence penetration, according to Kahwaji, now paralyzes Hezbollah, blocking it from mounting special operations.
As its arsenal dwindled, Hezbollah shifted tactics, increasingly relying on cheap drones for surveillance and sporadic attacks. Yet, even this adaptation had its limits. Kahwaji estimated that by 2025, only about 30 percent of the group’s short-range rockets remained, along with a small stock of drones and a handful of long-range missiles. “This does not constitute a sustainable firepower base, only sporadic harassment,” he observed.
The collapse of the Assad regime in Syria in December 2024 further undermined Hezbollah’s strategic depth. For years, supply lines through Damascus and a missile-production hub in Masyaf had been vital lifelines, funneling heavy rockets and Iranian support. With the loss of Masyaf and the Syrian corridor, Hezbollah was left with only limited local production of short-range rockets and drones. “Any future war,” Kahwaji warned, “could be its last.” Kozah concurred, stressing that without Syrian territory as a conduit, Hezbollah had lost its primary source of arms, funds, and logistics.
The consequences have been dire. Secretary-General Naim Qassem publicly acknowledged casualties of some 6,000 dead and 13,000 wounded or disabled—nearly 20,000 fighters removed from the battlefield. Many displaced families remain unable to return home, villages lie in ruins, and public opinion has turned sharply against the group. Some former allies are now urging Hezbollah to accept the government’s plan to place all weapons under state authority, in line with the Taif Accord and international resolutions. “Hezbollah no longer possesses the capacity to confront Israel directly,” Kozah concluded. “Its infrastructure north of the Litani has been devastated, and politically, its partners are abandoning it. The party now faces not only military attrition but a profound crisis of legitimacy.”
The most symbolic blow came with the assassination of Hassan Nasrallah, Hezbollah’s charismatic leader, in massive Israeli airstrikes on September 27, 2024. According to the Associated Press, more than 80 one-ton bombs destroyed an entire block in Beirut’s Haret Hreik suburb, killing Nasrallah, top officials, and an Iranian general. Days later, his successor Hashem Safieddine was also killed in airstrikes. The group quickly named Nasrallah’s deputy, Naim Kassem, as its new leader, but many observers believe he lacks his predecessor’s charisma and authority.
Despite these setbacks, Hezbollah’s resilience remains a subject of debate. Senior Hezbollah official Mohammed Fneish told the Associated Press, “The loss of this leader was a very painful blow to Hezbollah. However, 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.”
Israeli officials, for their part, acknowledge the group’s diminished capacity. An Israeli military official, speaking anonymously, said, “Hezbollah’s influence has declined considerably” and “the likelihood of a large-scale attack against Israel is considered low.” Yet, the official cautioned, “the organization is attempting to rebuild its capabilities; efforts are limited but expected to expand.”
Hezbollah’s financial situation is another source of intrigue. U.S. envoy Tom Barrack, in an interview with IMI Media Group, claimed the group is receiving as much as $60 million per month from unknown sources, despite international efforts to cut off funding. “Hezbollah is our enemy, Iran is our enemy. We need to cut the heads off of those snakes and chop the flow of funds,” Barrack said. Fneish dismissed concerns about funding, insisting that the group’s institutions—including healthcare, social services, and its armed wing—are functioning as before.
Inside Lebanon, the debate over Hezbollah’s future rages on. Political opponents accuse the group of being “detached from reality,” urging it to surrender its weapons and become a purely political party. Yet, as delays in reconstruction and growing pressure to disarm persist, many in Hezbollah’s Shiite base feel marginalized. According to Lebanese political writer Sultan Suleiman, this sense of siege contributed to Hezbollah and its allies winning overwhelmingly in the 2025 municipal elections in their traditional strongholds.
Some community members who once favored disarmament have reversed course, citing Israel’s ongoing regional behavior as justification for retaining weapons. “There’s a portion of this community that was psychologically worn down after this war, and started saying, fine, let’s give up the weapons and we’ll be able to relax,” Lebanese journalist Jad Hamouch explained. “But after they saw how Israel is behaving in the region, now they’re saying, no, we want to keep the weapons.”
Amira Jaafar, a resident of the border village of Kfar Kila who lost her son in the conflict, summed up the mood among Hezbollah loyalists: “We are still strong and there are many, many young men still ready to fight until their last breath.”
For the Lebanese state, the path forward is fraught with uncertainty. The government’s plan to disarm Hezbollah by the end of 2025—a key demand of the U.S. and Saudi Arabia before funding reconstruction—has been categorically rejected by the group. A Western diplomat described the dilemma: the cash-strapped and understaffed Lebanese army is ill-equipped to face Hezbollah’s battle-hardened fighters, many of whom come from the same communities. “I don’t see any coming back on this (decision), but I don’t see how it will go forward either,” the diplomat said.
As Lebanon marks the anniversary of Nasrallah’s death, Hezbollah’s future remains as uncertain as ever. The group is battered but not broken, regrouping in the shadows, its fate entwined with the shifting sands of Lebanese politics and the ever-present specter of conflict with Israel.