Lebanon: Between Historic Basketball Triumph and Fear of the Next War

I'm sitting here at my usual spot in Berlin, the night is long, the coffee is cold. But I just can't sleep because I can't shake the images and news from Lebanon. We're not just talking about another flashpoint in the Middle East here. We're talking about a country going through an emotional rollercoaster unlike anything I've seen in a long time. On one side, a sports-induced high; on the other, the dark rumble of a war that could spill over the border at any second.

An Evening in Zouk Mikaël: When Basketball Saved the State

Let's think back to this past Friday. While diplomats in Geneva and Washington were frantically on the phone, the suburb of Zouk Mikaël wasn't shaking from bombs, but from cheers. The Lebanese men's national basketball team accomplished something that feels like a small miracle in this country: they made us all forget the nightmare for 90 minutes. They absolutely demolished Saudi Arabia, 94-64. This wasn't just any qualifier for the 2027 World Cup in Qatar – it was a statement. Wael Arakji, the maestro, ran the show like it was the last symphony before the apocalypse. And then there was Jihad Elkhatib – the son of legend Fadi Elkhatib – delivering in his very first quarter with the national team as if it were the most natural thing in the world. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is.

The Other Side of the Coin: The Shadow Over Beirut

But anyone who thinks sports can pull Lebanon out of its precarious situation is seriously mistaken. Just a few kilometres from the arena, in the southern suburbs, preparations are in full swing. The assassination of key figures in the Iranian leadership by coordinated US and Israeli attacks has lit the fuse on the powder keg. Hezbollah, still deeply scarred by the last war in 2024, is under immense pressure. Their new Secretary-General, Naim Qassem, has already vowed retaliation. He speaks of the "duty to confront the aggression." You can figure out what that means: rockets from South Lebanon, retaliatory strikes on Beirut, on Tripoli, on the Bekaa Valley.

The warnings are unmistakable. Lebanon's Foreign Minister, Youssef Rajji, laid out the situation clearly in Geneva: if Hezbollah gets dragged into a war between Iran and the West, Israel won't hesitate this time. It won't just be MTV Lebanon or a Hezbollah office that gets hit. Then it gets down to brass tacks: civilian infrastructure, Beirut's airport, the power grids. Just imagine: a city that's only just starting to clear the rubble from the last disaster, being levelled? That's the reality Lebanese people live in. They watch basketball while simultaneously wondering if they'll still have a home tomorrow.

Football Keeps Dreaming: The U-23s Make History

And then there's a third story that shows just how much this country is built on contradictions. While Hezbollah flexes its muscles and the West threatens sanctions, the Lebanon national football team – specifically the U-23s – is making its own headlines. In Bangkok, this squad under Anthony Maasry made history. With a confident 3-0 win over Mongolia, they qualified for the final stage of the U-23 Asian Cup for the first time ever. A young Danny Istambouli, scoring two, and then captain Ali Elfadel, putting the lid on it. This is the stuff heroes are made of. A small glimmer of light in a sea of hopelessness. These kids are heading to the 2026 finals in Saudi Arabia, while their fathers might already be back in the trenches. That's the crazy, beautiful, and tragic poetry of the Middle East.

The Invisible Hand of Tehran

Let's not be naive. All these developments – the sports, the politics, the daily skirmishes – are just the tip of the iceberg. There's a massive simmer beneath the surface. According to internal sources who have provided me with reliable information for years, Iranian Revolutionary Guard officers are back in Lebanon, preparing Hezbollah for a potential strike. They're in command rooms in the Bekaa, checking on rocket units, issuing directives. Iran's new ambassador to Beirut, Mohammad-Reza Raouf Sheibani, is a veteran who knows the game and knows how to pull the strings. Lebanon is and remains Tehran's chess piece in the game against the West. Ignoring that would be reckless.

What's Left for Us? A Country in Free Fall – or on the Rise?

I want to give you an honest assessment, the kind I've been giving for twenty years. Lebanon stands at a crossroads. The sporting successes are balm for the soul of a traumatized nation. They show that this country is capable of more than just chaos and corruption. They are an incredibly strong signal for investment in youth, in infrastructure, in a future.

But at the same time, the sword of Damocles hangs over everything. One wrong move, one accidentally fired rocket, one political murder could trigger the next major conflagration. For us as observers, and especially for companies active or looking to be active in the region, this means one thing: maximum alert. The situation is more unpredictable than ever. Anyone investing in Lebanon today – whether in media rights for the Lebanon national football team, in sponsoring the basketball team, or in reconstruction – has to calculate with ice-cold precision. And they have to understand that the risk isn't in the numbers, but in Hezbollah's bunkers and the US aircraft carriers.

I'll be keeping a close eye on it. And I advise you: keep Lebanon on your radar. Not just because of the headlines, but because of the people. Because they never give up.

• The Sports Euphoria: Men's national basketball team celebrates a 94-64 blowout win against Saudi Arabia, dreaming of the 2027 World Cup.
• The Historic Football Debut: U-23 national team qualifies for the Asian Cup for the first time – a beacon of hope.
• The Geopolitical Bomb: Hezbollah threatens retaliation after US-Israeli strikes on Iran; Israel warns of attacks on civilian infrastructure like Beirut's airport.
• The Economic Calculation: The balancing act between sporting potential and political collapse becomes a severe test for investors and the population.