On April 13, the Lebanese marked the 50th anniversary of the outbreak of the civil war — a conflict that profoundly reshaped the nation’s modern history. While the infamous Ain El-Remmaneh bus incident served as the spark that ignited the violence, like many civil wars, there were deeper and more complex causes rooted in a web of overlapping local, regional, and international dynamics and domestic economic, demographic, and sectarian imbalances. Though the incident resulted in a dozen deaths, it set off a 15-year war that brought immense destruction, loss of life, and mass displacement.

The human and economic toll of the war was staggering. More than 120,000 people were killed and around 300,000 wounded, while 18,000 people disappeared, and one million Lebanese were forced to migrate. An analysis by the International Monetary Fund estimated that the cumulative economic loss caused by the war between 1975 and 1993 was equivalent to at least 24 times Lebanon’s real gross domestic product in 1993. Throughout the conflict, Palestinian factions, as well as the Syrian and Israeli armies, became deeply entangled in the fighting. Beirut became the first Arab capital to be occupied by the Israeli military, and state institutions, including the Lebanese armed forces, fractured along sectarian lines.

Half a century later, the wounds remain unhealed. Even though the Lebanese have yet to fully confront, debate, or come to terms with the legacy of its civil war, they ended up grappling with the aftermath of yet another conflict. The recent Israeli attacks on Lebanon have caused more than 4,100 deaths, displaced around 1.2 million people, and inflicted over $14 billion in damage and economic loss, according to World Bank estimates. This is not the first Israeli conflict since the end of the civil war — it is the fourth. Lebanon also experienced internal armed conflict in May 2008, when Hezbollah and its allies took over parts of Beirut in response to decisions made by the government at the time, led by Prime Minister Fouad Siniora.

The April 13 remembrance is an opportunity for the Lebanese and Lebanon’s friends to reflect on a difficult question: Why is Lebanon so prone to violence? Why does this country remain trapped in a cycle of crises and missed opportunities? And what would it take for Lebanon to finally enjoy sustainable peace, inclusive prosperity, and a functioning, accountable state?

The Lebanese civil war exposed the country’s vulnerable position in a deeply fractured regional context. Lebanon was one of the first casualties of the strategic divergence between Syria and Egypt following the 1973 war and, later, one of the first recipients of the exportation of the Iranian revolution in 1979. The war did not officially end until October 1990, only after the geopolitical balance shifted with the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait.

Efforts to mediate a resolution to the war began just months after it started. In October 1976, Saudi Arabia hosted the Riyadh Conference to secure a ceasefire, reaffirm Lebanon’s sovereignty, reject partition, and regulate the Palestinian presence. Unfortunately, the ceasefire was short-lived. In the following years, the Kingdom and other Arab and international actors encouraged Lebanese leaders to meet in Geneva (1983) and Lausanne (1984) in search of national reconciliation, but without lasting success.

By 1989, Lebanon was on the brink of institutional collapse, with rival governments claiming legitimacy and the conflict showing no signs of resolution. At its Casablanca summit that May, the Arab League established a Tripartite High Committee — comprising Saudi Arabia, Algeria, and Morocco — tasked with mediating an end to the war. The final diplomatic breakthrough came in the Saudi city of Taif, where the Kingdom hosted the 62 surviving members of Lebanon’s 1972 parliament for intensive negotiations. On Oct. 22, 1989, they signed the Document of National Accord, widely known as the Taif Agreement. This was ratified by the parliament on Nov. 5, 1989, and its provisions incorporated into the constitution in 1990.

Today, one may ask whether Lebanon is once again standing at a “post-Taif” crossroads. The country is emerging from yet another devastating war, while its institutions have crumbled under the weight of prolonged paralysis, fragmentation, and political vacuum. As in the aftermath of the Taif Agreement, a central and unequivocal demand has resurfaced: the disbandment and disarmament of Hezbollah and all Lebanese and non-Lebanese armed groups operating outside the authority of the state — a prerequisite for restoring credibility, stability, trust, and the prospect of renewed economic support.

For the past 50 years, the Lebanese have often invoked the phrase “tenzakar wa ma ten’ad” — “let it be remembered but never repeated” — as a collective expression of sorrow, regret, and hope. But for this hope to translate into reality, the Lebanese government, and perhaps the Lebanese people, must deliver on its own commitments, including those it pledged to in its ministerial statement. This means reclaiming the state’s monopoly over the use of force, and asserting exclusive authority over decisions of war and peace.

Another key commitment is the enforcement of a comprehensive plan to rebuild an economy devastated by the recent war and one of the worst financial collapses in modern history. The World Bank has characterized Lebanon’s economic crisis as one of the most severe globally since the 19th century. Since October 2019, more than $80 billion in deposits have been wiped out, erasing the savings of residents, nonresidents, and foreign depositors alike.

The Lebanese people have the right to live in peace, dignity, and stability. That right has long been denied — by their own political elites, by competing regional and international agendas, and because of Lebanon’s geopolitical position. On the 50th anniversary of the civil war, the Lebanese are not only remembering the past — they are asserting their right to a present and a future that breaks the cycle.