Through every episode of violence and displacement, every long night of uncertainty, it has been Lebanese women who held the line by steadying households, sustaining communities, and keeping the quiet architecture of daily life from collapsing entirely. Their contributions to peace have rarely been honored and almost never rewarded with power. As Lebanon works its way through this war and looks toward whatever comes next, it would do well to remember who kept it standing.
Across 163 developed and developing countries, a 2024 study published in Kyklos, a Switzerland economics and social sciences journal confirmed that greater female political empowerment measurably reduces military spending. Countries where women hold meaningful legislative seats are less likely to resort to armed force in international disputes, more likely to pursue a de-escalatory foreign policy, and statistically associated with lower rates of civil war and state-perpetrated human rights abuses. When democratic nations are entangled in active international rivalries, female parliamentary representation can be cut in half — from roughly 20 percent to 10 percent — and falls further still as conflicts multiply. The inverse is equally powerful: remove the machinery of war from the equation, and women’s voices tend to fill the space. Research published in the Journal of Politics found that greater female representation in post-conflict governments reduces the risk of conflict recurrence through two clear pathways: a preference for social welfare spending over military allocations, and improved public perceptions of governance. Peace, it turns out, is a demographic achievement as well as a diplomatic one.
The relationship between militarization and gender inequality flows in both directions, and both directions are damaging. A 2022 UN Women analysis of militarization and gender equality found that when governments prioritize military expenditure over social expenditure, women’s labor force participation contracts, their economic autonomy narrows, and the political architecture tilts toward figures who benefit from perpetual insecurity. According to the Uppsala Conflict Data Program (UCDP) at the Swedish Uppsala University, 61 active state-based armed conflicts were recorded in 2024 — up from 59 the previous year — and this is the highest number since statistics began in 1946. Eleven of these reached the threshold of war.
The Council on Foreign Relations‘ Women’s Power Index has noted that when women reach a critical mass of roughly 30 percent of legislative seats, they are significantly more likely to shift budget priorities toward health, education, and social protection. The peace agreements that endure, research consistently shows, are those that include women as signatories and architects. In Northern Ireland, women’s cross-community coalitions helped forge an agreement that held across a sectarian divide once thought immovable. In Rwanda, Colombia, South Africa and East Timor, women shaped post-conflict constitutions that outlasted the men who had waged the wars. When women are at the negotiating table, peace accords are more likely to be implemented and more likely to last. And yet, militarized societies systematically push women out of exactly these positions. As security anxiety rises, electorates are manipulated into choosing perceived toughness over competence and masculine aggression over inclusive governance.
Unless they are sidelined by war, parliamentary elections will take place in 2026, and with them comes an opening to begin building a country that reflects the full breadth of those who have sacrificed for it. Until then, we honor the war-weary women of the country who will no doubt pick up the pieces of the country’s ruin once again.