On the bustling outskirts of Beirut, a convoy of trucks loaded with wooden crates rumbled out of the Burj al-Barajneh refugee camp last week, drawing the attention of both local residents and international observers. Inside those crates: machine guns, rocket-propelled grenades, and even Grad rockets—once symbols of the long-standing militarization within Lebanon’s Palestinian refugee camps. Their destination? The custody of the Lebanese army, in a move that many are calling historic, and perhaps, a first step toward a new future for Lebanon’s roughly 200,000 Palestinian refugees.
The disarmament, which began in earnest in late August 2025, is the result of a deal struck in May between Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas and Lebanese President Joseph Aoun. Their agreement, as reported by AFP and multiple regional outlets, called for the surrender of weapons from Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) factions in Lebanon’s refugee camps—a move that officials hope will transform these spaces from semi-autonomous, often volatile enclaves into civil societies governed by law rather than by the gun.
“The Palestine Liberation Organisation handed over three truckloads of weapons to the Lebanese army,” confirmed Ramez Dimashkieh, chairman of the Lebanese-Palestinian Dialogue Committee, to AFP. The shipments included weapons from the Mar Elias and Shatila camps, as well as two truckloads from Burj al-Barajneh. “This completes the process of handing over PLO weapons from the Beirut camps,” Dimashkieh added, noting that Lebanese troops were on hand to inspect the cargo before it was whisked away.
But the process is far from over. On August 28, 2025, three more camps in southern Lebanon—Rashidieh, Al-Bass, and Burj al-Shemali—followed suit, handing over heavy weapons, including surface-to-surface missiles and RPGs, to the Lebanese army. According to the official Lebanese National News Agency, the weapons were transported in a fleet of eight trucks, a logistical feat that underscored the seriousness of the operation.
Yet, as Dimashkieh readily admits, the initiative is only just beginning. “There are still other factions that have not surrendered their weapons but the process has started,” he stated. Notably, Hamas and Islamic Jihad—two groups with significant armed presence in the camps and close ties to Lebanon’s Hezbollah—have not participated in the disarmament. Their absence highlights the delicate political and security landscape in which this process unfolds.
“We are talking about the weapons of the PLO factions, with whom we negotiated and reached an agreement. As for the weapons of Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and Palestinian forces orbiting around them, the matter requires negotiations with them,” Dimashkieh explained to Arab News. He added that while initial talks with Hamas had been “positive,” the situation remains complicated, especially after Hezbollah’s public refusal to disarm.
The disarmament of Palestinian factions is widely seen as a precursor to the much more contentious issue of Hezbollah’s arsenal. The Lebanese army is reportedly drawing up its own plan to disarm Hezbollah by the end of the year, a move commissioned by the government under intense U.S. pressure and against the backdrop of fears over renewed conflict with Israel. As reported by Arab News, the plan is expected to be presented to the Lebanese cabinet by the end of August, though few expect Hezbollah to relinquish its weapons without significant political changes.
For the Palestinian refugees themselves, the stakes couldn’t be higher. Since the creation of the state of Israel in 1948, Palestinians in Lebanon have lived in a legal limbo—denied citizenship, barred from many professions, unable to own property, and with few legal protections. The camps, numbering twelve in all, have long been outside the direct control of Lebanese authorities, governed instead by a patchwork of rival Palestinian factions. This autonomy has often come at a steep price, with internecine clashes—such as the deadly fighting in Ein el Hilweh camp in 2023—leaving scores dead, hundreds wounded, and vital infrastructure like UNRWA-run schools in ruins.
Now, Lebanese officials hope that the disarmament will lay the groundwork for a new era. “If people see a serious move forward in terms of arms delivery and they see the Palestinians here … are serious about transforming into a civil society rather than militarized camps, it will make the discourse much easier,” Dimashkieh told The Associated Press. He revealed that his committee is drafting proposed legislation, aiming to introduce it by the end of 2025, that would strengthen labor and property rights for Palestinian refugees—though not confer Lebanese nationality, which remains a political red line.
“Whatever weapons are given, they’re weapons which are now in the possession of the Lebanese Armed Forces,” Dimashkieh said. “So we should be happy about that.”
The plan, according to multiple sources, envisions a gradual transition: first, the camps would be patrolled by Lebanese police or internal security forces, while governance would shift to civilian Palestinian officials. This would require the election of new “popular committees”—de facto municipal authorities—following the recent overhaul of the Palestinian Authority’s leadership in Lebanon. However, Dimashkieh cautioned that there would be “a transitional period” before the full handover of security and administration could be realized.
Not everyone is on board. Palestinian factions opposed to Abbas, including Hamas and its allies, have rejected the plan to hand over weapons. Even within Abbas’s own Fatah movement, there has been internal dissent, with some officials stating that only “illegal” weapons would be surrendered, not those belonging to organized factions. Nonetheless, Sobhi Abu Arab, head of the Palestinian National Security Forces in Lebanon, insisted on August 28, “We are doing our part as the Fatah movement and the Palestinian Liberation Organization to implement” Abbas’s decision.
The significance of these events is not lost on the international community. Nabil Abu Rudeineh, spokesman for the Palestinian presidency, confirmed to WAFA that the “relevant Palestinian authorities in Lebanon have handed over the third batch of weapons belonging to the PLO that were present in the Palestinian camps in Beirut, to be placed in the custody of the Lebanese army.” He emphasized that this step was taken in line with the May 21 agreement between Abbas and Aoun, which also established a joint Lebanese-Palestinian committee to monitor camp conditions and work toward improving the lives of refugees—while scrupulously respecting Lebanese sovereignty and the refugees’ right of return.
As the dust settles over the emptied weapons crates and the Lebanese army readies for the next phase—disarmament in northern Lebanon, the Bekaa, and eventually camps north of the Litani River—the sense is one of cautious optimism. The process, as the Lebanese–Palestinian Dialogue Committee put it, “reflects a transition to a new phase of Lebanese–Palestinian relations, based on partnership and cooperation in safeguarding national stability and respecting Lebanese sovereignty.”
For now, the handover of weapons marks a rare moment of progress in a region too often defined by stalemate. Whether it will truly open the door to greater rights and dignity for Lebanon’s Palestinian refugees remains to be seen, but for the first time in decades, the conversation has shifted—from what must be surrendered, to what might finally be gained.