Last week, Lebanese President Joseph Aoun stated that “the decision has been taken” to give the state a monopoly over weapons in the country, albeit through dialogue and not force. The statement was directed primarily at Hezbollah and echoed the President’s inaugural address and the government’s policy statement, at a time when there is increasing pressure on Lebanon, from inside and outside, to disarm the group.

In his comments, Mr Aoun distinguished between the usual term used to discuss a process through which Hezbollah surrenders its weapons – a national defence strategy – and what he described as a “national security strategy” that “improved Lebanon [in terms of the] economy, diplomacy, security, the judiciary, finances, and information”. In this way, the President watered down the centrality of the group’s weapons, making it part of a wider national process to enhance Lebanon’s position.

Mr Aoun is no fool. He sees the tensions that today surround Hezbollah’s retention of its weapons in a deeply divided country. His efforts to temper the rhetoric around this issue do not mean he wants to hand the group room to manoeuvre. Rather, he has no intention of making the weapons a source of greater domestic discord, which may conceivably lead to civil conflict.

In light of this, the President also revealed he would conduct the dialogue with Hezbollah himself. He added that “messages had been exchanged” between the two sides to move closer on this question, and that once things had progressed significantly, the dialogue could be ended with a more formal framework or session.

The President’s description may not have pleased hardliners who are impatient on Hezbollah’s disarmament. Yet Lebanon is caught between a rock and a hard place. If Hezbollah rejects a dialogue, Israel may intervene again and occupy more Lebanese land, making a withdrawal conditional on the group’s demilitarisation. So, Mr Aoun’s tactic is to initiate a discussion and make gains far from the limelight.

What direction might such a dialogue take? A large part of the answer will be tied to Iran’s calculations. After Israeli aircraft killed Hezbollah secretary general Hassan Nasrallah last September, even as Israel was eliminating dozens of the party's senior military commanders, Hezbollah has been largely run by Iran, which played an instrumental role in naming Naim Qassem to succeed Nasrallah last October.

If Iran rejects the idea of disarming Hezbollah, it will be difficult for Mr Aoun to advance in his plans. It was no surprise, then, that Hezbollah officials took a harder line on disarmament last Friday, on the eve of the Rome talks between Iran and the US. This underlined that the group’s weapons are really part of a broader negotiation process between Tehran and Washington that transcends Lebanon.

However, even if Iran is holding the Hezbollah card tightly, it may be willing to give it up in exchange for concessions, because its value has diminished. Hezbollah’s military role has been made redundant because of its inability to mount new attacks against Israel. The group is isolated domestically, the destruction in Shiite-majority areas is immense, and Hezbollah no longer can rearm itself through Syria.

In this context, for Iran to try to revive its devastated project of an “axis of resistance” surrounding Israel with rockets seems almost ludicrous. Most of its allies have been crippled, such as Hamas and Hezbollah; or don’t want to fight Israel, such as the Iraqi Popular Mobilisation Forces; or are too far away to matter, such as the Houthis in Yemen. Moreover, Iran doesn’t have the money to invest in such a scheme because of its profound economic crisis and sanctions.

The question, therefore, is whether Iran may be willing to put Hezbollah’s future on the table in its negotiations with the Americans. Until now, nothing indicates it would be, but these are early times in the talks. The administration of US President Donald Trump has indicated it would like to expand the scope of negotiations to cover more than Tehran’s nuclear programme and include its regional alliances.

However, even if Iran were to yield on Hezbollah’s arms in the negotiations, that would not necessarily imply a smooth disarmament process in Lebanon. Any move over its weapons could lead Hezbollah to make demands of its own to compensate, such as greater political representation in the Lebanese system.

Lebanon’s political order is indeed in need of reform, as the system put in place after the Taif Accord of 1989 is no longer really functional. Taif was never fully implemented, but even if it is, many of its shortcomings will remain. The Shiite community is entitled to more representation in Parliament than it has today, based on the country’s current demographic make-up. Organising a national forum on constitutional change may be a step in the right direction.

However, this will make for a much more intricate process than simply confiscating Hezbollah’s arms. If the Lebanese do decide to renegotiate their Constitution and establish a Third Republic, the group will have to give up its arsenal as a prerequisite for any such step. No one will negotiate with a community that is armed.

On the other hand, once Hezbollah opens the door to engage in a discussion on its community’s political representation, it will have truly looked beyond its weapons and placed itself under the authority of the Taif Accord – and therefore the Constitution – as Mr Qassem said it would in a speech last year. Was he sincere? Now is the time to test Hezbollah’s intentions.