## 8

## “WHO IS SAYYED HASSAN NASRALLAH?”

August 31, 1993

> In this lengthy interview with the Lebanese newspaper Nida al-Watan, Nasrallah openly describes his youth, his religious and political development, and the establishment and mission of Hezbollah—all subjects long shrouded in a relative degree of secrecy and ambiguity. On a number of critical party issues brewing at the time, however—the correctness and desirability of Iran’s Ayatollah Ali Khameini as the main spiritual and political reference for Shiites, past troubled relations with Syria, and internal divisions within Hezbollah—Nasrallah diplomatically demurs from a more pointed discussion, as he so often would when it came to matters that might exacerbate disunity or provide any sort of a window for Hezbollah’s enemies.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Who is Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah? Where did he come from? What did he study? And how does he think?

HN: Hassan Abdelkarim Nasrallah was born on August 31, 1960, in a very poor area of East Beirut, called al-Sharshabouk Quarter, near al-Khodr Mosque and the Karantina.1 There, under the bridge, is an area by the name of al-Sharshabouk, a quarter in which the best house is a ruin and whose inhabitants were a mixture of Shiites, Maslakh Arabs, Armenians, and Kurds. This is where I lived with my family until 1974, where I spent my childhood and finished my elementary school education at the al-Najah School, which is still there. At that time, this was the highest degree one could earn in that particular area, which meant that I had to go to Sin el-Fil for my secondary education.

Shortly before war broke and we went into exile, we moved to the Sin el-Fil area, though my father continued to go to al-Sharshabouk Quarter on a daily basis to work in the small shop he owned, until the area fell (…) Though I had no political leanings at that time, I had been religious since my early childhood; as you know, the age of religious maturity for us Shiites is 15, but I was already an observant Muslim at the age of nine.

NIDA AL-WATAN: What was the atmosphere like at home?

HN: Our home was observant in a traditional way, but I became particularly religious due to the milieu I lived in. During that period, I used to go from al-Sharshabouk Quarter to al-Nabaa to pray at the Usrat al-Taakhi Mosque, in which Sayyed Mohammad Hussein Fadlallah prayed (…).2 I went there to pray even as a child. Even then, I still did not have particular political leanings until our father took us out of the area, a short time before it fell, to the village of Bazourieh in the south, which is where I originally come from even though I was born elsewhere.3

Leftist and nationalist parties were very strong in Bazourieh at the time, and there were no fervent believers or religious youths, like those we call today the “Islamists”; my main interest therefore revolved around the formation of such a group of religious youths. There was a very decent, good, and respected sheikh in our town, by the name of Ali Shamseddin, who has died since (…), so we worked together to found a library at the town’s Islamic Center, where the youth could come, read, and receive lessons. It attracted a considerable number of young men and women, and I was the one who gave the lessons.

That year, I completed Grade Eleven in Tyre, joined the Amal Movement, and was only 15 years old when I was given responsibility for the Movement’s organization in our town, Bazourieh. The others who held similar positions were older than me, more my father’s age, and even my uncles were members of that organization. I also became very active in the town’s Amal Movement. We met on a weekly basis at the gatherings that Dr. Mostapha Chamran used to hold at the Professional Association in Jabal Amil.4

I had a very large appetite for learning, by which I mean religious education and subjects, and had wanted to go to Najaf to study at the religious seminary ever since my childhood—that is, since I was 13, 14, and 15, which was highly unusual. I arrived thus in Najaf on January 15, 1976, at a relatively young age, carrying a bunch of introductory letters from a number of Lebanese scholars.5

NIDA AL-WATAN: There was of course among them a letter from Sayyed Mohammad Hussein Fadlallah?

HN: No, I could not get a letter from al-Sayyed because I did not succeed in reaching him, since after our exile from Nabaa we went to Bint Jbeil6 and moved around a lot. I was in touch, at that time, however, with Sayyed Mohammad al-Faroui, a close friend from Tyre, where he still lives, and he gave me several letters to scholars in Najaf. Sayyed al-Faroui was a very close friend of the martyred Imam, Sayyed Mohammad Baqer al-Sadr,7 and one of the letters was for him personally.

I arrived in Najaf, a city in which I knew no one, around midnight on what was my first trip outside the country. I was very young, and knew only one person there, from the days of Nabaa, the martyred Sheikh Ali Karim. So I went straight to see him and I told him that I was carrying a letter to Sayyed al-Sadr, and wanted to pay him a personal visit.

At that time the Iraqi regime was bringing a lot of pressure to bear on Najaf—in particular on Sayyed Mohammad Baqer, whose movements, home, and visitors were under surveillance by the intelligence services. Some people avoided going to see him altogether, and some Lebanese students even warned me, since I was a new student, against paying him a visit lest I start my life in Najaf with a black mark on my name. I asked who could take me to see him, and Sheikh Ali said that there was a person with very close ties to Sayyed al-Sadr, by the name of Sayyed Abbas Mussawi,8 who came to visit him on a regular basis. I said, no problem.

I met Sayyed Abbas Mussawi for the first time in the street while we were on our way to see him, and, maybe because of his dark skin, I thought he was an Iraqi at first. I had already spent two days between Baghdad and Najaf, and had become accustomed to the Iraqi accent, so I started talking to Sayyed Abbas in an Iraqi-tinged Lebanese accent; but he laughed and said, I am Lebanese, not Iraqi, you can relax.

On our way there—for Sayyed Abbas was going to the city mosque—I told him that I had just arrived from Lebanon, was carrying a letter for Sayyed Mohammad Baqer, and wanted the chance to see him. He said, no problem, let us go now. I am giving you all these details so that you can have an idea about Sayyed Abbas’ uncomplicated, straightforward, and particular personality. For him it was a simple matter: “Let us go now…”

We went, therefore, to see Sayyed Mohammad Baqer…

I was surprised because I thought, given his wide-ranging responsibilities, a Religious Authority’s time was very tight. Sayyed Baqer gave me a whole half-hour, which is quite a lot, during which he asked me about Lebanon, the south, Sayyed Mousa [al-Sadr], who had not been kidnapped yet, the scholars, our activities, and the situation in the country in general. He also asked me what my plans were.

I told him I did not know, and that I was leaving the matter to him; so he turned to Sayyed Abbas and said: take him under your wing. You will be responsible for everything he needs: a place to stay, special clothes, books, teachers … and let me know if there are any problems. Then he turned to me and said, “You are under Sayyed Abbas’s wing”; I actually also remember him asking me if I had any money! I told him, “The money just got me here, to Najaf.” So he reached under the mattress (…) It was the habit of people who come to see Religious Authorities to ask for money; the latter, therefore, used to stash a certain amount under the mattress, on which they sat on the floor, and would pull some out whenever their visitors needed money. The money never went into the scholars’ pockets; that was the tradition.

From that day onwards, I was under the direct supervision of Sayyed Abbas Mussawi—or rather [I was] placed for safekeeping by Sayyed Mohammad Baqer into the hands of Sayyed Abbas.

Sayyed Abbas found me a place to stay and a place to study, and there I met several students and we formed a group together. Studies at a religious seminary are different from academic or ordinary university studies; at the religious seminary studies are not regimented—students can choose their teachers and subject matter. There are no exams or academic years, and the student is personally responsible for the level of education he wants to attain. This means that everything depends on the student’s personal initiative.

There is, of course, a generally recognized program of studies, comprising three levels of knowledge: introductory, higher level, and external research, successively. Books and reference material for the first and second levels are required and predefined; the external research stage has no required reading, but needs a professor, the supreme guide, who lectures as the students take notes.

NIDA AL-WATAN: How long for?

HN: A student can spend five years or longer on the introductory level, or require only two years. This depends on the student’s energy and ability to absorb knowledge. This academic freedom, which heavily relies on research, distinguishes education at the religious seminary from other more regimented academic systems.

We spent almost one-and-a-half academic years in Najaf, during which Sayyed Abbas Mussawi was our main teacher, and the one who chose our other teachers and subjects. But the main subjects we studied, and our whole raison d’être during this one-and-a-half years of academic pursuits, were the responsibility of Sayyed Abbas Mussawi, who paid special attention to our group.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Who were the members of this group?

HN: There was Sheikh Ali Karim, who was eventually martyred; Sheikh Mohammad Khatoun, who is now the Hezbollah leader in the Bekaa; a brother by the name of Sheikh Abdul-Ilah Dabbouq [laughs as he says “we will show him”], who is now a judge at the Islamic al-Jaafari Court; and another brother by the name of Sheikh Yassin, who is now imam of the Imam Ali Mosque in the city of Baalbek. There were other brethren who are now active out of the country, and it is best if I do not mention their names for their own sakes.

Sayyed Abbas therefore took very special care of this group. This meant that this teacher did not just deliver the lesson and then go on his way, but used to deliver the lesson, engage us in discussions, help us study, come at night to check if we were alright, and give us an exam at the end of every subject and every chapter. In return, we, the members of this group, were as dedicated as he was; we prepared seriously for every exam, and were afraid before each one lest our preparation was not good enough, for we took extra care not to disappoint Sayyed Abbas. We feared him because we loved him, and because his attitude towards us as a group went beyond that of a teacher and his students—he was a father, an educator, a friend, and the authority in charge.

NIDA AL-WATAN: It did not seem as if he was much older than you?

HN: No, he was not old; I think he was at most five, six or seven years older than I was. He was martyred when he was only thirty-eight years old. In the religious seminary, however, those who are older than you, no matter by how many years, are from a qualitative point of view far more able and learned than you are. This is why the time we spent learning at the hands of Sayyed Abbas was particularly time-efficient, because it maximized our academic education. Under Sayyed Abbas, our group broke all routines, never took time off, and never rested, because Sayyed Abbas converted us into an active beehive, and made us thirsty for learning. We can say that, qualitatively, those one-and-a-half years were far more educationally fruitful than their actual time value.

NIDA AL-WATAN: How did this coincidental and remarkable seriousness come about among members of your group?

HN: This does not mean that we were the serious ones, for youth always searches for someone to look up to and be guided by, and Sayyed Abbas was extraordinary in this respect. He was all of that for us, and we loved his way of doing things, his seriousness, honesty, and sense of responsibility. And because of this particular relationship, our group was accused of having similar ties to the martyr al-Sadr.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Was your relationship only with the martyr Sayyed Abbas?

HN: No, we often visited Sayyed Mohammad Baqer al-Sadr; he had a weekly majlis [gathering] open to all those who wanted to join, and we often did. But regardless of whether we went to the majlis or not, the fact remained that the Lebanese group of students at the Najaf Religious Seminary was in contact with Sayyed Abbas Mussawi, who in turn had a very well established relationship with Sayyed Mohammad Baqer al-Sadr. It therefore follows that our group would have a special relationship also with Sayyed al-Sadr.

About a year later, on the 20th of Sifr of the lunar hijri year [the Muslim calendar], which is equivalent to July 20, there was a religious occasion by the name of the Fortieth [Day] of Imam al-Hussein. Imam al-Hussein was martyred on the 10th of Muharram, and 40 days after that is the 20th of Sifr. Every year on this occasion, the Iraqis gather in Najaf and embark on a three-day march, almost completely on foot, to Karbala.9 Soon after the march started, however, the marchers clashed with members of the Iraqi intelligence services, and Sayyed Mohammad Baqer al-Sadr was arrested and kept for a long time in detention. They also arrested several religious scholars from Najaf and raided various religious schools, including ours; but after three days of such raids, they realized that they were going to find our school continuously empty, since everyone there was participating in the march. They thus expelled all the Lebanese students whom they suspected of involvement in political activities, or of taking a certain position regarding the regime, and so on. A series of arrests of Lebanese students and professors followed, and our school was among the first victims.

I still remember when intelligence officers came to the school, gathered all the students and asked for our passports. They then divided the passports into four stacks, depending on the date of entry into the country, and started arresting and expelling us by group, according to who had entered most recently into the country: 1978, 1977, 1976, and 1975. I still remember how, after they took the first group—those [who had entered in] 1978—we hurried to close the door behind them, but they told us, “Don’t. Keep it open, they will be back shortly” (…) of course, they did not [return] because they were detained for a few days, and then expelled to Lebanon. [The authorities] continued thus, every week expelling a new group, until they reached the 1977 [group]. I managed, however, to escape by the skin of my teeth from being expelled with them—by just fifteen days, since I had entered into Iraq on January 15, 1976. I also managed to escape being arrested with the third group, because it so happened that I and a group of friends were not at the school when the intelligence services came for us. One of the students came looking for us and told us not to go back to school, so I went with a group of friends to Baghdad, and from there continued on to Beirut. We thus managed to escape the fate of all the other students, who were arrested for periods of between ten days to two months, during which time they were interrogated and tortured before being expelled.

The martyr Sayyed Abbas was out of Iraq, on a visit to Lebanon, when these arrests were taking place, so we told him not to go back to Najaf because the authorities were looking for him in particular.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Your return to Lebanon, therefore, coincided with the first [Israeli] invasion?

HN: We returned to Lebanon at the end of the first half of 1978, to be exact, without being able to continue our studies in Qom.10 The Shah’s regime was still in power in Iran, and there were after all a group of religious schools in Lebanon. However, based on our very tight relationship with Sayyed Abbas, we left it to him to decide in which of these schools we ought to enroll. Since we needed to complete our education, Sayyed Abbas thought it best to establish a new school in Baalbek—first because he hails from that region, from Nabi Sheet in particular, and second because it was far from all of the internal turmoil taking place in the country. It would therefore provide students—especially those who were forced to abandon their education—with the necessary stability and security.

We told him that the decision was his (…) and if I remember well he sought, at that time, the approval and blessing of Imam Musa al-Sadr, His Eminence Sayyed Mohammad Hussein Fadlallah, and His Eminence Sheikh Mohammad Mahdi Shamseddin11 for the establishment of the school. The Baalbek school thus opened its doors with no more than seven or eight students, and Sayyed Abbas became its principal, founder, and teacher.

NIDA AL-WATAN: What was it called, the religious seminary?

HN: Sayyed Abbas called it The Awaited Imam’s Religious School,12 and it still bears that name. We completed our studies at the school and were still there when the Israeli invasion of 1978 took place. This meant that when Imam al-Sadr was kidnapped I was still a student pursuing my education, and at the same time a teacher, since, at the religious seminary, students who completed certain subjects and were quite capable could teach them immediately.

We therefore spent this period studying our hearts out at the religious seminary under Sayyed Abbas, away from the general turmoil in the country. This meant that for an entire year after our return to Lebanon and our enrolment in the seminary in Baalbek, we had nothing to do with what was taking place in the country. A short time later, when various activities started taking place in the area, such as lectures, lessons, activities in mosques and masjids,13 and meetings with the people, we held awareness-raising activities and seminars, lectures, and lessons, and my relationships with the people of the region burgeoned—especially with those active in Islamic circles. I became a pioneer in the area, since I was a member of the Amal Movement, which was the only one holding activities in the region, and had held, since my early childhood, a great deal of affection for Imam Mousa al-Sadr. Sayyed Abbas, other brethren and I therefore started cooperating with the Amal Movement in holding awareness-raising and cultural activities in the Bekaa.

I joined the Amal Movement while we were still at the seminary, though Sayyed Abbas did not; and above and beyond the activities we held through the seminary, as a member of Amal I became active at the organizational level in the Bekaa. I kept this up, in addition to my studies, until 1982, and assumed several positions within the Movement, ranging from organizational officer for the First District, to which the Bekaa belongs, to president of the Bekaa District Court.

NIDA AL-WATAN: They have a court of their own?

HN: Yes, they have an internal organizational court.

NIDA AL-WATAN: What happened after that?

HN: The political official in charge of the Bekaa—another position I held—became a de facto member of Amal’s Political Bureau. By now it was already 1982, the year Israel invaded Lebanon. The way Amal dealt with the invasion gave rise to several internal problems, which should best remain unmentioned, since today such talk provokes particular sensitivities.14

From the organizational point of view, we in the Bekaa took issue with certain political positions taken by Amal and, at the same time, were very politically involved in thinking about the need for military operations against the occupation. This was when we decided to leave Amal. We therefore left Amal without any problem because, at least as far as we were concerned, the Movement was no longer up to the task required at that particular juncture, and we were seeking an alternative that would allow us to operate the way we wanted to. Thus, after leaving Amal we established the nucleus of a new movement, which soon became known as Hezbollah—although when it started it had no name, since no one took the time to find a suitable one for it. We were quite a large group of young men, and we all enrolled in military training camps until the arrival of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards.15

NIDA AL-WATAN: What role did the Iranian Revolutionary Guards play?

HN: Their role was limited to firing us up with the spirit that prevailed on the front in Iran, but we also benefited from their advanced abilities in our training camps. On the organizational level, they helped us delineate the operational context, and form a new movement and political line all to ourselves.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Whom do you mean by yourselves?

HN: I mean the group of young Lebanese men, among whom were Sayyed Abbas Mussawi, Sayyed Jimmy al Tufeili, Sayyed Ibrahim al Amin, and Sheikh Mohammad Yazbek,16 all of whom were religious scholars from the Bekaa, in addition to another large group of people whose names are known mostly in the Bekaa.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Given that your new movement did not have a name, an address, or a political line yet, how did you introduce yourselves? Who were you, and who are you? Were you looking for an identity?

HN: We were looking for a name. But there are people who give the child a name even before he is born—we left the name until after the birth. This way, if he is born too long, we would give him a long name, if he is graceful and delicate, we would certainly not give [him] a rough name (…) so we said, let the baby be born first, let us see what nature, size, and tendencies it has, then we will find a suitable name for it.

NIDA AL-WATAN: What made you choose the name of Hezbollah for this core entity?

HN: The nature of the movement that saw the light played a determining role at that time. The movement did not seek worldly pursuits, and both its young and old members had dedicated themselves to God. So what decision could we have reached? What was this movement all about? It was a resistance movement, pure and simple. There was never talk or questions raised about the system in Lebanon or the future of the regime, parliament or the government (…) there was no talk about Lebanese political life. At the time, all these issues were out of context for us. The only reality for us was the fact that there was a country under occupation whose future and fate nobody knew.

We are therefore a movement born as a reaction to the occupation of part of our country; and the rest of Lebanon is now under the threat of a similar fate (…). Even when we were in Baalbek and Israel was in the western Bekaa, there was uncertainty as to whether or not Israel would push further inland and occupy the entire Bekaa Valley. We therefore had certain priorities imposed on us, not only as a consequence of our ideological position visà-vis Israel, but also because of the everyday living conditions of the people. You thus had a situation in which there was an occupied country—our own to be exact; Israel the victor that had managed to achieve its grand objectives; [there was] a defeated Arab nation; and there was, of course, us, the young movement getting ready to fight against a legendary army.

Such aspirations need particular kinds of men and youths who do not fear the destruction of their homes, hunger, thirst, wounds or injury (…). There was a need for a jihadi spirit, for a sense of sacrifice, for giving without restraint, and for transcending all calculations, selfishness, and personal temptations. People who are born with such tendencies and have such a spirit deserve the best name of all—a name that befits them best. A group of people who dedicate themselves to God Almighty and decide to become martyrs in the fight against the enemy, in spite of the obvious fact that there is no balance of power either militarily or in fighting abilities, these people deserve to call themselves Hezbollah—the Party of God.

This is how the name came to be (…)

At that time, I was one of the founders, and assumed several positions within Hezbollah while we were still in the Bekaa.

NIDA AL-WATAN: How did you form the party, and how did Sayyed Nasrallah and others develop within the party? Do any of you still have a personal life or a separate identity from the party?

HN: After 1982, our youth, years, life, and time became part of Hezbollah.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Did politics ever take over, or did the military aspect of the resistance remain your only focus?

HN: The main effort was at the time concentrated on recruiting young men, enrolling them into the military training camps, and organizing them into small groups to enable them to carry out resistance operations against the occupation. This is exactly how things were then; in other words, there were no institutions, no wide-ranging internal organizational structure, or specialized services, [as there are] now. There was only a collective system, which essentially focused on performing two tasks: first, recruiting, training, and organizing young men in groups, and infiltrating into the occupied territories to carry out operations; and second, launching an awareness-raising campaign among the people to lift their morale, re-energize them, instill in them the feeling of enmity towards Israel, and spread among them the policy and objectives of the resistance regarding the occupation. It was necessary to address the people about this issue, using proper mobilizing language rather than giving them theories and political analyses.

This is why, if you go back to the political archives, you will notice that our early rhetoric leaned strongly towards mobilization rather than politics. People at that time needed instigation, not lectures; they also needed freedom (…)

NIDA AL-WATAN: How many recruits did you have then? Can we know that now, given that some time has passed?

HN: As far as public support went, we developed a relatively wide base after we started our work in the Bekaa. As to the number of people in our core organization, they were at most 2,000 people, all young men who were ready and willing to follow and persevere on our path, and who sought martyrdom in their confrontation with the occupation.

Also at that time, we started gradually building up our organizational infrastructure, and I assumed several positions within it, the last being at the level of developing the basic cadres. I was in charge of the Bekaa region at a time when we only had a central command, and were present only in three areas of the country, namely the Bekaa, Beirut, and the south. In early 1985 they asked me to leave the Bekaa and take over responsibility for Beirut.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Was it not strange to have someone in charge of the Bekaa while Sayyed Abbas Mussawi was there?

HN: Sayyed Abbas was a member of the Central Command.

NIDA AL-WATAN: So you went to Beirut—why did they take that decision?

HN: We went to Beirut because our initial organizational efforts focused on the Bekaa, since it was the only area not under occupation. However, when the Israelis withdrew from Beirut, those founders [of Hezbollah] who had gained some experience building the organization and developing its political line in the Bekaa were chosen to start developing the still nascent cadres in Beirut. Since I was responsible for the Bekaa, and therefore well aware of the various plans, policies, programs, and capabilities of the party, in addition to my organizational skills, I was asked to take over responsibility for Beirut.

They asked three of us to go to Beirut: Sayyed Ibrahim al-Amin, myself, and (…).17 Sayyed Ibrahim al-Amin was required to play a political role, and I myself assumed an organizational role. Sayyed Ibrahim was also the official spokesman for the party when it issued its “Open Letter,” containing Hezbollah’s first ever complete and comprehensive vision regarding the political situation, the regime in power, the Christians, political parties, the Palestinians, Israel, the United Nations, the emergency forces, and the resistance. All this talk today about a new Hezbollah policy is inaccurate; the letter, which Sayyed Ibrahim read as spokesman on the occasion of the anniversary of Sheikh Ragheb Harb’s martyrdom, contained Hezbollah’s entire political program.18 As for the reasons behind choosing me for the organizational and semi-founding role in Beirut, it was due to the good relations I had developed with a number of essential cadres in Beirut.

NIDA AL-WATAN: How did this relationship start, through Amal or… ?

HN: (…) Partly through Amal, partly not, and some links were developed through the religious seminary in Baalbek. Studying in Baalbek did not mean that we were out of touch with the south or with Beirut.

We launched a movement in Beirut aimed at the youth and the population in general, and the Israeli withdrawal from parts of the south provided us with the opportunity to do the same there; Beirut, however, was the main center of our activity. A period of great activity in the Bekaa, Beirut, and the south took off, and our institutions and secret committees were established. We were thus no longer able to continue working at a simple organizational infrastructure level, comprising a single central command and three regions. We had to build up this basic infrastructure due to the growth and spread of our movement, and instead established what can be best described as an “Executive Committee,” at the head of which we appointed a wise member of our command structure. This Committee was responsible for all executive duties within the party with the exception of political relations, including issues relating to organization, jihad, publicity, culture, social affairs, and extra-curricular activities.

I therefore became a member of the Central Command, at a time when that position’s existence was not known, and I was simply introduced as the president of the Executive Council. I remained in that position for a time, until I traveled to Qom in order to continue my education at its religious seminary.19

NIDA AL-WATAN: This is rather strange—was there a political crisis of some sort?

HN: In spite of my involvement in politics, I was very eager to continue my education, and I still feel that way (…). I wish someone else were secretary-general in my place, so that I could fulfill this personal desire. Naturally, press analyses said that internal disagreements were behind my departure for Qom, but none of that was true; my brothers had actually insisted that I stay on account of the very sensitive nature of my responsibilities, which required experience and awareness. I was afraid to miss the boat, as far as educational opportunities available to me were concerned, and afraid that with age and time I would also lose the necessary mental abilities.

When I left, my intention was to stay a minimum of five years in Qom, which was the minimum number of years necessary to finish my education. That particular year, the party passed through difficult circumstances due to the various sensitive incidents that took place in Lebanon—including the problems between the Amal Movement and the party—and this made it necessary for me to return home.20 Relationships among us party-members are not simply political, but brotherly, transparent, and existential in nature; I therefore could not morally justify my absence or ignore the difficulties that my brethren were going through, regardless of how eager and convinced I was about the need to pursue my education, and I hastened back to Beirut.

Sheik Naim al-Qassem21 had been selected as president of the Executive Committee and as a member of the Central Command, so I assisted him in various fields until it was again time for elections in Hezbollah. Sayyed Abbas was elected secretary-general, Sheikh Naim al-Qassem was appointed as the deputy secretary-general, and I returned to my position as president of the Executive Council. On February 16, 1992—on that same day—both Sheikh Ragheb Harb and Sheik Abbas Mussawi were martyred,22 and I was unanimously elected secretary-general.

NIDA AL-WATAN: How do you explain this unanimity? Was it due to your personal attributes or to objective circumstances?

HN: Although what I am about to tell you is one of the party’s secrets, I will nevertheless speak about it openly. Members of the Shura Council discuss among themselves a number of names regarding the post of secretary-general, to determine whether there are any obstacles to prevent them from occupying that particular position. As far as I was concerned, and from the very beginning, there were no obstacles to my assuming that position. Some of the brethren proposed that I fill that position, and then my name was proposed a second time; we always took into consideration extraordinary circumstances, and my name was always there, regardless of whether or not these extraordinary circumstances had taken place, or whether the legal period had simply elapsed.

NIDA AL-WATAN: What are the limits of the legal period?

HN: It is two terms, or a period of between four and five years.

NIDA AL-WATAN: What are the considerations and restrictions that govern the choice of a secretary-general? Should he be the most learned, or the most scholarly?

HN: The secretary-general of Hezbollah sits at the movement’s summit, and at the same time plays a political role. Today the party has no official spokesman, so the secretary-general assumes that role; this means that when he expresses an opinion he also commits the party to it. He is also responsible for the supervision of the party’s internal activities. He therefore has to have cultural and scientific abilities, political acumen and administrative skills, and he must have the trust of the party’s leaders, since they have entrusted him with an important responsibility.

An individual from within, not outside, the leadership structure is chosen for the position, and the command structure should be convinced as a whole that this man’s attributes and abilities qualify him for this position of responsibility. This does not mean that he is the only one who possesses these attributes, or that others in the leadership structure are any less capable.

NIDA AL-WATAN: A relationship undoubtedly exists between Iran and Hezbollah. What is the nature and size of this relationship, and what are its limits?

HN: First, since Hezbollah is an Islamic movement, it falls under a de facto relationship with a supreme leader known as the “holder of religious leadership, commitment and authority.” This person does not necessarily have to be from a particular nationality or tribe: he could be the first or the second [of the] Lebanese martyrs; he could be Sayyed Mohsen al-Hakim, who is an Iraqi; Sayyed Al-Khoei; or Imam al-Khomeini, who is an Iranian; or, one day, maybe even a Pakistani or a Bahraini.23 You will therefore notice that the Constitution of the Islamic Republic says that the president of the Republic has to be an Iranian, but not necessarily the wilayat al-faqih.24 This means that the wilayat al-faqih, who is at the very head of the Islamic Republic and of all the Muslims, can be from the Hijaz, Bahrain, Lebanon, or Iraq; and the president of the Republic, who is an Iranian, would therefore be under his command.

This relationship with this religious supreme leader is very important for our Islamic movement, regardless of whether he is in Najaf or Neauphlesle-Chateau,25 or whether he is a leader holding sway over an entire country. The point I am trying to make is that our relationship to that leading, scholarly, and legal position is very important to us, regardless of whether the Islamic Republic [of Iran] exists or not. But this relationship does not mean that if this person is in Najaf we have to have a relationship with Iraq, regardless of whether this person has a positive or negative personal relationship with the regime. Right now, this person happens to be in Iran; therefore our relationship now is with someone in Iran. The same principle would apply if this religious and legally appointed supreme leader, the wilayat alfaqih in whom we believe, lived in Mecca, for example. The relationship is therefore not subject to geography or nationality; it is a matter of religious scholarship and legality, regardless of where it is located.

From the very beginning, we believed in the wilayat al-faqih, the guiding supreme leader, as someone who can lead the Islamic nation towards regaining its identity, its existence as an entity, and its self-esteem. We believed that Imam al-Khomeini, to whom we gave the name of “Imam of the Dispossessed,” could have helped the weak and dispossessed of this world get rid of their oppressors, even if they were not Muslims and had not chosen him as their leader, simply because they were persecuted, abandoned, and mistreated. We believed in him as supreme leader and mentor, even when he was still living in exile, and before there was an Islamic Republic in Iran.

Then the Islamic Republic was established, and contrary to [the practice of] other parties that forge relationships with one country or another, Hezbollah did not form any such relationship with a ministry, institution, or state administration. Our relationship was only with the Imam in his capacity as the Imam of all Muslims, from whom we sought guidance and blessings. Today, Ayatollah Sayyed Khameini has succeeded Imam Khomeini,26 and we still do not deal with him as the leader of Iran or of the Islamic Republic, but simply as the holder of a certain religious status, regardless of his position within the structure of power in Iran.

Contrary to rumors, today, as during Imam al-Khomeini’s time, the Iranians do not interfere at all in our movement (…) our leaders are elected by a special body, and not appointed by Iran—not at all. In fact, we believe that the wilayat al-faqih does in fact have the right to appoint our leaders, because our movement has voluntarily handed its reins over to him; but what did Khameini the supreme leader say to that? He said, “No, your own Congress should be the one to elect your leaders” (…). Hezbollah’s leadership, plans, programs, and the entire movement, are under our orders. We do not receive instructions from any ministry, nor any other authority. The same goes for the supreme leader and the Imam; they do not interfere in our personal affairs—they just formulate the general policy line. For example, both the supreme leader and the Imam, who wields legal authority, believe that we are an occupied country and that, as such, it is our legal right to resist this occupation. As to how we do it, they leave the matter for us to decide whether we throw a bomb or attack a position with Katyushas, and do not interfere at all. Iran, as a state, has nothing to do with this issue; on the other hand, the supreme leader, who has the right to interfere, does not do so at all; he only says that there should be a resistance, and Hezbollah does the rest.

For example, some people linked the vote of no confidence in the government, cast by Hezbollah’s deputies in parliament,27 to the current tensions between Saudi Arabia and Iran (…). Iran learned about our position regarding the government at the same time as everyone else, through the usual media channels. All these internal Lebanese political issues, such as opposition or support, strategy and tactics, are our own business, and we view and deal with them as we see fit.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Then what happened in Damascus?

HN: Even when Dr. Wilayati came to Damascus, all he did was ask a few questions, for which he wanted answers to take back home in order to help find a solution. He asked a question and we answered, but in the end we will be the ones to decide.

Hezbollah is therefore an Islamic, Lebanese jihadist movement that has its own independent internal and local decision-making process, and its own independent leadership and cadres. Its relationship is with the supreme leader, who draws general policy lines not only for Hezbollah but for the nation as a whole, of which Hezbollah is only a part. Since this fundamental relationship is with the wilayat al-faqih, it is only natural for the Islamic Republic to feel comfortable in its relationship with us, and to be especially interested in mentoring and assisting us in certain cases. It is also natural because the Islamic Republic is the wilayat al-faqih’s authority structure, and we have a relationship with him (…) this is the nature of our relationship with Iran.

NIDA AL-WATAN: How about funding?

HN: They help us in certain respects, and we also secure our own funding through donations. Donations that go to institutions that support the supreme leader’s activities are very generous, while other activities are covered by legitimate funds from religious charitable donations, such as the Zakat and Akhmas.28 Our religious scholars have permission to benefit from legitimate funds donated by Shia religious authorities.

NIDA AL-WATAN: For example?

HN: For example, someone who has legal religious authority to donate funds approaches one of the religious scholars or sheikhs, and there are major donors among the world’s Shia, whose Akhmas add up to enormous amounts. This person can give us the entire sum he wishes to donate, and we will decide what to do with it and whether to use it all or in part. It is the same with the current construction project, for which we obtained a general license, and for individuals whose shares have reached maturity; they can now go to the south and help in the reconstruction. The permission is comprehensive enough for that.

NIDA AL-WATAN: A final question: the Western media always focus on the “appointment” of the learned scholar, Sayyed Mohammad Hussein Fadlallah,29 as Hezbollah’s supreme spiritual guide, which His Eminence has regularly denied. What is the nature of the party’s relationship with Sayyed Fadlallah?

HN: What His Eminence says is very exact: there is no organizational link between the leadership and decision-making process of the party and His Eminence. However, apart from the organizational aspect, Sayyed Mohammad Hussein Fadlallah has a very special position in what we call the “Islamic scene” in Lebanon—a position he earned thanks to his high level of education, personality, and broadmindedness, and his secular, social, and organizational activities throughout the years.

NIDA AL-WATAN: You were one of his students in al-Nabaa Quarter. How much were you influenced by him?

HN: This is true. From this important perspective we can appreciate the status of Sayyed Mohammad Hussein as far as the Islamic scholars, leaders, cadres, bases, and youth are concerned; they all have a lot of respect, love, and appreciation for him. Hezbollah, however, made no commitment towards him from the organizational point of view, although he holds a lofty position among Muslims, and one feels compelled to consult him and benefit from his wisdom. Sayyed Fadlallah himself does not give his opinion in the expectation that Hezbollah or any other organization will commit to it; neither does Hezbollah feel committed. It can, of course, benefit from his opinion, though the final decision remains solely in the hands of [Hezbollah’s] leadership.

Undoubtedly, there is a feeling of common fate between Hezbollah and Sayyed Mohammad Hussein, due to our common spiritual and intellectual way of thinking and the historical relationship that exists between us. This sense of common fate gives the observer the impression that Sayyed Mohammad Fadlallah is no stranger to Hezbollah, and is its spiritual guide. The Sayyed is a highly learned Islamic personality, who has a great deal of influence on the Islamic scene in general; but Hezbollah, its cadres and decision-makers are entirely separate.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Your participation in the National Assembly—in other words, your entry into the Lebanese political game—has given rise to a sensitive debate within Hezbollah and a lot of speculation from outside the party. What are the reasons behind your decision to participate in the Lebanese body politic?

HN: The National Assembly issue is one of the items on our priority list, at the top of which lies the resistance; but we also live in a community that has its own political and social life, as well as its own daily worries and problems. We fight on mountain-tops and in the valleys, but live in this community and are a part of it. We are not a foreign army that has come from elsewhere to liberate another people’s land; we are part of this people, our own land is occupied, and we want to liberate it.

Once we had succeeded in liberating our territory in 1982, and from then until 1985, we said that we wanted to pursue our resistance and start a process of political openness and participation in Lebanon’s political life, and considered this to be one of our responsibilities; because apart from the resistance, solving people’s problems, reconstruction, education and culture are also high on our priority list. We shoulder these responsibilities because we are not simply an armed movement; when we said from the very beginning that we are an Islamic jihadist movement, it meant that we also have a civilized social program that goes beyond the mere carrying of a gun.

Based on that, we opened up politically, launched our political movement, established political relationships, and expressed our opinion on several matters through various statements.30 Then it was time for new elections, and we found that we could make our voices heard by the Lebanese people through the National Assembly and the usual parliamentary press coverage. Furthermore, our relationship with others through parliament would be less complicated than if it was directly with the secretary-general. Relationships with a parliamentarian, for example, would not have the same repercussions as a direct relationship with Hezbollah. We also wanted to make the extent of our public support known to all in response to some foreign speculation that had spread rumors to the effect that Hezbollah is merely a group of armed men in Baalbek, the Southern Suburb, and the south, when it has, in fact, a large popular base. Our presence in parliament could also provide the resistance, in which we strongly believe, with the political support and endorsement it needs.

Our presence in parliament, therefore, provides us with a platform from which we can defend public causes, and gives us the opportunity to serve the people’s interests from within the very institution that issues legislation and enacts laws. We are convinced that our participation in enacting laws will be very useful, because we are among those who have the people’s interests most at heart. We are also the furthest from factional and partisan self-interest, and the most steadfast in what we believe.

Furthermore, and with all due respect to the deputies, there are probably some who could be bought (I respect the deputies, but this could happen) with $5,000 or $10,000, whereas billions of dollars would not buy our deputies’ positions; we have absolute confidence in our brothers in parliament. These are the reasons for which we entered parliament.

NIDA AL-WATAN: Is it true that Christians voted for you in large numbers in the Bekaa?

HN: We have [voting] tabulations, which I do not have with me now, that show that a certain Christian town, whose name I do not recall, gave our list 304 out of its 365 votes, while another Christian town did not give us a single vote.

NIDA AL-WATAN: In spite of all the assurances that you have nothing to do with the kidnapping of the hostages, there is still a general perception, inside and outside the country, that Hezbollah is responsible. What is the truth of the matter?

HN: I cannot of course say that the Islamic scene is a total stranger to the incident, and that the kidnappers were Arab nationalists or communists. In fact, a group of young men had been arrested in Kuwait because they had targeted a number of American and French interests there; some were condemned to death and others sentenced to life imprisonment.31 Some might even have been handed over to the Americans (…). These detainees had friends and brothers in Islamic circles, but not in Hezbollah, because the party had not yet been established when the incident occurred. Therefore, a group of people did indeed carry out the operation, but the fact remains that they were not members of Hezbollah, and they acted on an individual basis. They believed that this method was the only one available to them to secure the release of their friends, or at least to prevent the death penalty from being carried out or to stop their being handed over to the United States.

Any further speculation would be completely wrong. This group had planned and studied the impact of their action on the political situation. But to say that the incident happened as the result of a decision by Iran, Syria, or Lebanon is completely wrong; the matter is much simpler than people think. But it is possible that certain people’s behavior during the Lebanese civil war, which saw tit-for-tat kidnappings between East and West Beirut, has influenced these young men’s behavior to some degree. Still, the fact remains that the Americans, French, and Germans can bring a lot of influence to bear on the issue of the detainees in Kuwait, which probably explains why American, French, and German citizens were kidnapped in Beirut.

No Islamist organization has any connection with this incident, including Hezbollah, none whatsoever; but like everyone else in Lebanon, Hezbollah was privy to information about these kidnapping operations. The only [way] in which Hezbollah has interfered—yes, interfered—is by seeing to it that the release of the hostages is part of a solution to the problem as a whole, and Syria and Iran interfered for this same reason. Our efforts to take advantage of the incident to secure the release of our own detainees in Khiam and other Israeli prisons are our own business.32 Furthermore, Hezbollah is eager to see the end of this hostage issue, since its fallout ended up entirely on the party’s shoulders. Given that there are indeed young men languishing in prison, our interest in the matter did not at all cause us to consider using force against these groups to compel them to release the hostages. However, although we never contemplated using force, we did want various parties to put their efforts behind finding a political solution to the problem.

The truth is that simple, and I believe that any Lebanese citizen who followed what happened in Lebanon since 1974, and then in 1983–84, is aware of how we do things in this country, and would therefore simply accept this scenario. A Westerner, on the other hand, might not (…). In any case, they are free to accept or reject it.

NIDA AL-WATAN: There were reports in the press recently that Hezbollah might target American and Western interests abroad. Is this based on something you have said?

HN: Even at the height of the Israeli violence against Lebanese civilians during the Seven-Day War, we never said anything of the sort. We will never use that language in the future either.

NIDA AL-WATAN: The relationship between Hezbollah and Syria has had many ups and downs, from extreme disagreement to close friendship, so to speak.

HN: Our relationship with Syria is a strategic one. Hezbollah’s strategic cause is its resistance against occupation, for which it has sacrificed a great deal. Since 1982 we have considered the Syrian position as being supportive of the resistance as a right and a practice, which is a supportive and genuine position towards us. In this regard, we agree with the Syrian leadership on the general broad lines; but when an incident takes place between them and us in Baalbek, West Beirut or the Southern Suburb, we look at it as we look at other such incidents that have happened between them and their so-called best friends.33 We are now in 1993, and we know very well who is genuinely behind the resistance and who is not, and who is disposed to use the resistance as a bargaining chip and who is not (…)

I would like to say, in all honesty, that Syria has a big role to play in Lebanon on both the political and official levels, especially in relation to garnering more support for the resistance and rectifying certain attitudes and convictions. We therefore believe, regardless of the proper protocol to follow or the right number of visits to exchange, that Hezbollah and Syria are standing together in the same genuine, existentialist and jihadist trench. This is why our relationship with the Syrian leadership is important to us.

We have been trying to improve our relations with Syria for a long time now, and especially in recent days, because several issues on which we had not acted before in Lebanon have now been placed on our priority list, because we have become part of the National Assembly. During the Seven-Day War, both our relationship and our trust in each other improved, and we in Hezbollah have noticed that the Syrian rhetoric has become more reassuring.

NIDA AL-WATAN: What if negotiations are successful and a peace agreement is concluded with Israel? This puts you face to face with the question as to what you really want to achieve through the resistance. Do you want to liberate the south? Do you want to liberate the entire land of Palestine? Or maybe you want to thwart the negotiations, to serve Iran’s interests in the region?

HN: There is more than one aspect to this issue. One of them [is] that resistance is a jihadist activity and a reaction to occupation, which means that there is a resistance against occupation; this resistance had started before negotiations did. We have therefore not launched our resistance movement as a negotiating tool to put pressure on the parties around the table of negotiations. If the Arab negotiator wishes to benefit by using our resistance as a negotiating card, he is free to do so; but when I fight Israel, carry out operations, or launch the Shihine operation, I do not do so in order to weaken or strengthen the people around the negotiating table. I act with the mentality of a resistance fighter.

The objective of the resistance is the liberation of the land. It is true that we do not believe in negotiations, and consider them more than just a mistake; but just as we want to guarantee the future of the resistance on the ground, we also have the best interests of the people at heart. Because we read the future very clearly, the path we have chosen does not involve dragging the region into a war with the intention of ruining the negotiations. Neither do I place my resistance movement at the service of regional or Iranian interests, even if this is our path. The Seven-Day War was a good opportunity for us to drag the region into an all-out war, and we did not do so. One needs to ponder deeply the response to the following question: In whose interest would dragging the region into an all-out war be? Is it in our own people’s interest, or the Israeli enemy’s?

We do not think about the negotiating table, but about the occupied land and an enemy who threatens the entire region. I want to fight this enemy any way I can, until I achieve victory. In our private discussions, we say that while martyrdom is an individual project, Hezbollah’s objective is to achieve victory; there is also an occupied territory that needs to be liberated, and a nation that should not submit to Israel. The individual act of martyrdom should not therefore entail the martyrdom of the entire nation; my ultimate aim as Hezbollah, and my ultimate aim as a nation, is victory, not martyrdom.

If a solution is ever reached, a number of questions will inevitably start being asked regarding the future of the resistance and the negotiations—by the enemy as well as by friends and supporters. We in Hezbollah have the answers to these questions but prefer to keep them to ourselves, for it is not right from strategic or tactical points of view to announce one’s program, movements, tactics or strategy if there is not yet a solution (…). It does not make sense to announce them now or in the near future, for I believe that there will be a right time to do this with clarity and precision. We have the answers figured out in multiple scenarios, and we are not at all confused (…) rest assured.

[Conclusion by Nida Al Watan] Sayyed Nasrallah is married to Mrs. Fatima Yassin from Abbasiya, in southern Lebanon, and when we asked him if it was a love match he said, laughing: “Something of this sort.” As to how this love blossomed between Baalbek and Abbasiya, and whether it was love by correspondence, Nasrallah said:

You are right to be surprised, but I was not a prisoner in Baalbek, and used to go to the south every now and then. I did not know her at the beginning, but met her through my friendship with her brothers. Her brother is Sheikh Hassan Yassin, who was in the same group with me in Najaf. I gradually got to know her better, thanks to my friendship with her brother.