This is no longer a humanitarian file delayed by bureaucracy. It is a national test that Lebanon is failing in slow motion. Lebanese detainees remain locked inside Israeli prisons while their names circulate in press statements, their families count months without news, and the state responds with restraint that borders on abdication. When citizens are taken, hidden, denied Red Cross visits, and subjected to abuse, silence is not prudence. It is complicity by omission.
For an audience that understands the cost of confrontation and the meaning of deterrence, the facts are unmistakable: “Israel” is not holding detainees because it must, but because it can—because the political cost remains low.
Liberated Palestinian prisoner, Ammar al-Zaben, speaks out to free the Lebanese and Palestinian prisoners in occupation jails: a voice with the experience of decades behind "Israeli" bars. pic.twitter.com/x69YjFhq5e
— Free Lebanese Prisoners (@LebPrisoners) December 12, 2025
File That Refuses to Close
The number of Lebanese detainees currently held by the occupation stands at 19 to 20, based on the latest confirmations from released Palestinian prisoners who encountered Lebanese captives previously listed as missing. The uncertainty itself is revealing. It is the result of deliberate Israeli obstruction, including the ongoing ban on Red Cross visits and the refusal to provide any official accounting. A large group of civilians—fishermen, a shepherd, and workers arrested in their fields—some of whom were detained after the ceasefire was declared.
These are not arrests justified by war. They are acts of abduction, carried out under the cover of “security,” and sustained by international inaction and local hesitation.
The ceasefire of November 27, 2024, was supposed to mark an end. Instead, it marked a shift in method.
Ali Younes was detained after the so-called cessation of hostilities.
Ali Tarhini was arrested inside the Lebanese town of Odeisseh on January 28, 2025.
Mohammad Ali Jheir—a fisherman from Naqoura—was shot with a rubber bullet and taken from his boat by Israeli naval forces, then transferred to Ofer Prison and placed in solitary confinement.
These are not isolated incidents. They form a pattern: ‘Israel’ exploits calm to seize civilians, converting ceasefires into opportunities for leverage. Months later, families still have no official information. The International Committee of the Red Cross has confirmed that Israeli authorities are blocking access to Lebanese detainees. This is not procedural delay—it is policy.
Testimonies from released prisoners speak of severe beatings, humiliation, and sexual abuse—violations that meet the definition of war crimes. The denial of visits is meant to do one thing: keep these crimes out of sight. A prison without witnesses is not detention. It is a black site.
Families Carrying What the State Will Not
With the state moving cautiously, families stepped forward forcefully. From protests outside ESCWA to meetings in Baabda, they have said what officials have not: This is not a humanitarian appeal. It is a demand.
Former detainee Abbas Qabalan spoke of civilians arrested while farming their land.
The mother of Mohammad Abdul Karim Jawad—a civilian nurse—has waited more than a year without a single official update. The wife of Ali Younes called for action “through every legal, diplomatic, and political means.” The mother of Ali Tarhini named the date and place of her son’s arrest—inside Lebanon.
These families are not guessing. They are documenting publicly because the file has been left on their shoulders. Officials have called the detainee file a “priority.” But priorities are measured by action, not vocabulary. So far, the issue has been confined to the so-called mechanism committee, a framework chaired and constrained by U.S. oversight—hardly a venue known for pressuring ‘Israel.’ Rather than securing releases, it has allowed the occupation to freeze the issue while continuing violations.
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which should have escalated the file internationally, remains largely absent. No sustained UN campaign. No legal offensive. No international naming and shaming.
This is not incapacity. It is a political choice.
Human rights researcher Ghina Ribaai was direct: Lebanese detainees are paying the price for a state that wasted leverage. The handover of an Israeli detainee without any reciprocal release sent a dangerous message—that ‘Israel’ can detain Lebanese citizens without consequence. That message still stands.
Detainees as Bargaining Chips ‘Israel’ has made its strategy clear. Lebanese detainees are not prisoners—they are hostages, to be traded against unrelated political files: borders, negotiations, “working groups.” Lebanon has rejected this logic rhetorically. But rejection without pressure is empty. ‘Israel’ responds only to cost—political, legal, and strategic.
What Must Change—Now
This file cannot remain seasonal. It requires:
• A clear sovereign decision
• An aggressive diplomatic and legal campaign
• International escalation, not quiet mediation
• Continuous media pressure that keeps the issue alive
For an audience that understands resistance, this truth is familiar: rights are not returned through patience alone. The detainee file is not a test of sympathy. It is a test of statehood.
‘Israel’ does not release prisoners because it is reminded of morality. It releases them when detention becomes expensive. As long as Lebanese detainees remain an afterthought—raised in speeches but not imposed as a cost—’Israel’ will continue to detain, abuse, and bargain.
The families have said it plainly, and history confirms it:
A nation that does not fight for its detainees forfeits a core element of its sovereignty.
In a country whose modern identity was shaped by the principle that prisoners are never abandoned, failure here is not neutrality. It is surrender by silence.
Source: Al-Manar Website