It is neither a coincidence nor a mere repetition of the past: since the constitutional amendments

resulting from the Taif Agreement in 1989, every Lebanese president has, after experiencing it

firsthand, lamented the numerous flaws that hinder the functioning of governance in Lebanon.

The first to make this observation was Elias Hrawi, who participated in the Taif negotiations and

was the second president elected after the assassination of René Moawad. His successors—Émile

Lahoud, Michel Sleiman, and Michel Aoun—followed suit, all pointing to the same deficiencies.

Even the newly elected president, Joseph Aoun, alluded in his inaugural speech to the need for

reforming the Taif Agreement to get the state back on track.

One of the major flaws that has led to three presidential vacuums since 1989 is the absence of a

deadline for the designated prime minister to form a government. Nawaf Salam, like his

predecessors, can take as much time as he deems necessary—even an entire year, as was the case

with Tammam Salam. Furthermore, since the Doha Agreement in 2008, national unity

governments have turned the Council of Ministers into a mini-parliament, where each faction is

simultaneously the opponent and the judge. No political, sectarian, or communal component can

be sidelined without triggering a major crisis with unpredictable consequences.

The current government formation process is facing the same obstacles. The initial optimism

surrounding Nawaf Salam’s appointment as prime minister has quickly run up against a series of

roadblocks, slowing the momentum that had characterized the start of Joseph Aoun’s presidency.

The new president had swiftly conducted parliamentary consultations in a single day, leading to

Salam’s nomination. Salam, in turn, immediately launched his own non-binding consultations.

However, after an initial boycott by the Shiite duo, Amal and Hezbollah, a meeting with Speaker

of the Parliament of Lebanon Nabih Berri helped mend the rift over the failed agreement that

would have seen Najib Mikati, not Salam, return to the premiership.

Now, the designated prime minister is caught between the demands of parliamentary blocs and

his own vision for governance. He is attempting to reconcile both, mindful of the usual political

dynamics at the beginning of a presidential term. However, he is determined not to let his

choices be dictated by political parties and MPs, even if that means prolonging the government

formation process.

Technically, Salam is still within a reasonable timeframe for forming his cabinet. He is moving

quickly but cautiously, shaping his vision independently of partisan demands. But beneath the

surface, the reality remains: grand statements about state-building often conceal deeply rooted

sectarian and tribal ambitions. As the parliamentary elections of May 2026 approach, tribal

logic—driven by electoral calculations and personal interests—continues to override the general

interest.

If Nawaf Salam refuses to bow to political pressures and instead assembles an independent

government, will he secure the confidence of Parliament? If he fails, will he step down? Would

he agree to be reappointed? And if not, who would replace him?

Beyond Salam’s own political fate, the broader question is what this means for Lebanon’s new

presidential term. What stance will Lebanon’s allies and regional sponsors take?

Lebanon’s modern history—from the pre-independence era through the decades leading up to the

civil war in 1975—has always been shaped by the dominance of sectarian and tribal factions

vying for power and influence. Even during the presidency of Fouad Chehab, who attempted to

modernize the state and curb sectarian power struggles, the tribal mindset never truly

disappeared.

During the civil war, and until 1990, militias took over the reins of power, monopolizing wealth

and forging a new political and social elite that partially replaced the traditional ruling class

without eliminating it entirely.

Since the establishment of the so-called "Second Republic" under the Taif Agreement, Lebanon

has remained under the influence of external powers—mainly the United States, Saudi Arabia,

and Syria—who shaped the post-war power-sharing model. This era saw the rise of a new ruling

elite, where financial oligarchs merged with the country’s political and religious feudal lords,

alongside former militia leaders from the war.

And what about the factions that, over the decades, have consistently aligned themselves with

every foreign occupier, guardian, or ruling power? These opportunists, devoid of national

identity, have never hesitated to shift allegiances based on changing political winds.

Since the withdrawal of Syrian troops in 2005—though the UN peacekeeping forces in southern

Lebanon remain in place—the country has become even more fragmented, exacerbated by the

Arab Spring’s upheavals. New sectarian and ideological rifts have emerged, fueled by

extremism, exclusion, and isolationism.

Even today, tribalism remains the guiding force in Lebanese politics, shaping alliances, rivalries,

and power struggles. How, then, can Lebanon claim to be building a functional state?

The solution, however, might be simple: a return to a political model based on broad, cross-

sectarian blocs, similar to the constitutional framework of Lebanon’s past. At one time, the

country’s politics were divided between two major groups—the "Constitutional Bloc" and the

"National Bloc"—each representing members from all sects and regions.

Why not implement a similar system today, with two competing political coalitions vying for

power under a proportional electoral law? The winning bloc would take full responsibility for

governing, while the opposition would act as a counterbalance. This approach would eliminate

the inefficiency of national unity governments and the entrenched culture of sectarian power-

sharing.

Until that transformation happens, Lebanon remains trapped in its tribal divisions—where state-

building remains a distant dream.