Hezbollah, a year after Hassan Nasrallah

The first anniversary of Hassan Nasrallah’s assassination passed with Hezbollah in a state of profound transition. A year ago, on September 27, Israel carried out what it described as a decapitation strategy, killing Nasrallah and, weeks later, his heir-apparent Hashem Safieddine.

The strikes stripped Hezbollah of its command structure and deprived the movement of its most recognisable figure, a man who had led it for more than three decades.

What was once an unrivalled centre of Lebanese politics and a feared regional actor now finds itself diminished, focused on survival and an uncertain recalibration.

The shock of Nasrallah’s death was compounded by the war that followed, which resulted in thousands of casualties and immense devastation across Lebanon. Many had long believed that eliminating the Hezbollah leader would ignite a regional inferno.

Although all-out war never came, Hezbollah absorbed one blow after another. It was weakened militarily, eroded politically and further isolated by the collapse of the allied Bashar al-Assad regime in Syria in December.

With Damascus no longer under Assad’s control, Hezbollah lost a vital land corridor through which Iranian arms and funds had flowed for years.

Left with no leader

At home, the movement has been left without a figure of comparable stature. Nasrallah was considered a statesman-warrior who embodied the movement’s defiance of both Israel and the United States.

His successor, Sheikh Naim Qassem, has sought to project steadiness but lacks his predecessor’s charisma and authority. Qassem is seen as a softer, more cautious voice.

Across Hezbollah’s strongholds, images of Nasrallah remain far more prominent than those of the new leader, and chants pledging loyalty to the dead commander echo in the streets.

Even Nasrallah’s son, Mahdi, has been able to draw a following by invoking the memory of his father.

Strategically, Hezbollah is at one of its lowest points since its formation. Analysts argue that the movement no longer has the deterrent power it once held over Israel and is unlikely to mount significant attacks. It no longer dictates Lebanon’s political agenda or sets the rules of engagement with its neighbour. For the organisation, simply remaining intact has become the new measure of success.

Domestically, Hezbollah faces growing hostility. Lebanon’s economy has collapsed, the lira is worthless, and public patience with the group’s claim to be the country’s shield has worn thin. Instead, many see Hezbollah as deepening Lebanon’s isolation. The frustration was evident when Nasrallah’s image was projected onto Beirut’s Raouché Rock a few days ago. What once would have been an untouchable display of strength provoked condemnation from senior officials, including the prime minister.

The most pressing issue is disarmament.

Under pressure from the United States and Israel, the Lebanese government instructed the national army earlier this month to prepare a plan for centralising control over weapons.

‘Loyal to the covenant’

Hezbollah has rejected the demand outright, with Qassem insisting that the group will never surrender its arsenal. The resulting stalemate has delayed badly needed foreign aid for reconstruction, while diplomats warn that any attempt to confront Hezbollah by force risks destabilising the army itself.

Yet Hezbollah is not finished. The group insists that its finances remain stable and its institutions, including social services, continue to function. It has worked to close intelligence gaps exposed by the assassinations, reducing reliance on technology and operating more covertly.

It is also seeking to rebuild its base of support by providing compensation and rent assistance to war-affected residents.

On the diplomatic front, it has signalled to rivals such as Saudi Arabia that its weapons are aimed only at Israel, while some allies have floated renewed discussions of the Ta’ef Accord in the hope of trading political representation for a future dialogue on arms.

As Hezbollah marks the anniversary with rallies and a speech from Qassem under the slogan ‘We are loyal to the covenant’, the movement is still standing. But its greatest challenge may no longer be fighting Israel. It is the risk of drifting into irrelevance within a fractured domestic arena and a shifting regional order.