Drawing New Lines in the Dust

By Mohamad Hammoud

How “Israel’s” Security Plans and American Aid Could Reshape South Lebanon

When guns fell silent after the 2024 clash between “Israel” and Hezbollah, the calm proved deceptive. UNIFIL officers monitoring the Blue Line reported bulldozers reshaping ridgelines near Deir Mimas, including a new tower forming part of a “360-degree surveillance ring” extending kilometers into Lebanese territory.

Reuters satellite imagery confirmed newly reinforced “Israeli” positions linked by fiber-optic lines. While Tel Aviv insists they are temporary, UN officials noted that the design mirrors fortifications once seen in the Golan Heights and southern Gaza. From above, the changes appear methodical—concrete, steel, and sensors creeping northward. One Lebanese observer remarked, “Whenever ‘Israel’ speaks of security, the map starts to move.”

The Economic Blueprint

Another initiative is unfolding on paper. The Associated Press obtained a three-page concept note circulating among Western embassies in Beirut, proposing an eight-kilometer “special economic zone” stretching from the Blue Line to the Litani River.

Written in USAID-style language, the memo envisions tax-exempt industrial parks, a 1,500-member US security contingent, and “freedom of movement for “Israeli” reconstruction teams.” A senior State Department official told CNN the plan is “modeled loosely on post-war Kosovo,” noting that “stability through capital” may be cheaper than military occupation.

The Guardian cited a European diplomat who warned that promises of “voluntary relocation with compensation” verge on coercion when homes lie in rubble and funds come from foreign accounts.

According to some reports, Lebanon is being pushed toward “a nineteenth-century protectorate dressed in twenty-first-century jargon,” with the plan’s legal structure channeling disputes to Dubai arbitration courts and allowing foreign investors to bypass Lebanese judicial institutions.

Critics argue it quietly “outsources the republic,” eroding sovereignty under the guise of administrative reform. Lebanese analysts now describe the initiative as “a buffer with a bank account”—an economic curtain replacing checkpoints with corporate rules and investor protections.

Three Layers of Control

Combined, the military footprint and the proposed economic corridor effectively divide South Lebanon into three functional bands. The first is the “Israeli” footprint, a network of fortified posts and watchtowers extending surveillance and quick-strike capability beyond the frontier.

Closely linked is the American enclave, an economic buffer under US protection and foreign investment law, stretching up to the Litani River and monitored by a security contingent under special regulations designed to attract international capital.

Beyond it lies the subcontracted north, nominally under Beirut’s authority but potentially policed by multinational contractors vetted by Washington rather than the Lebanese state itself.

A Dream That Never Slept

The blueprint is not new. Declassified “Israeli” minutes from 1949 show David Ben-Gurion arguing that the Litani River should serve as a northern security line, with geography and water substituting for strategic depth. That ambition resurfaced in the 1978 Litani operation and the 1985–2000 South Lebanon Security Zone, which “Israeli” treasury data placed at roughly one billion dollars a year in today’s terms.

A retired “Israeli” general told “Haaretz” that direct occupation proved too costly, while “outsourcing control through economics and legal frameworks is sustainable.” With Washington now offering funds and administrative scaffolding, the result is a hybrid model: fewer boots on the ground, more contracts, courts, and infrastructure.

Water and Power

Water underscores the deeper stakes. Al-Akhbar published maps showing planned pumping stations south of the Litani to supply industrial zones within the proposed strip. US engineers told AP the works are “purely civilian,” but Lebanese hydrologists warn even modest diversions could push summer flows to crisis levels. “First they secure the land,” a retired Lebanese officer said, “then they secure the water.”

The impact is already visible. In Khiyam, Mayor Muhammad Qasim says drones map ruins more often than reconstruction teams appear. Officials request land and utility records but provide little clarity on returns or compensation. Across villages, graffiti reads, “We Will Not Be Another Palestine”—a defiant echo of collective memory.

Maps Drawn in Pencil

Diplomats in Beirut insist no final deal has been signed, yet discussions among US, “Israeli” and European envoys continue. Reuters quoted a Western official who described the plans as “still in pencil,” admitting each revision pushes the line slightly northward.

The challenge for policymakers is as moral as it is strategic. If stability depends on drawing lines that rearrange lives, Western capitals must ask whether short-term calm justifies long-term displacement. Lebanese sovereignty, local livelihoods and the region’s water security require explicit consent—not quiet redesign. Otherwise, peace may arrive not through reconciliation, but through paperwork, blueprints and foreign bank accounts.