Nasrallah’s Funeral Buries Western Lies

1.4 million mourners defy decades of propaganda, honoring a resistance icon the West tried to erase.

Nearly nine months after the assassination of Hassan Nasrallah, the world is beginning to reckon with the life and legacy of a man long cast as a villain in Western narratives — but mourned as a national hero, resistance leader, and political icon by millions across the Middle East and beyond.

To many in the West, Nasrallah’s death was seen as a victory — one less “terrorist” to deal with. It was welcomed as the conclusion of a narrative spun to serve the interests of the US, Israel, and the marauding architects of chaos who have long ruled the global order.

But Nasrallah was a figure Western leaders could never truly contain. Like Hamas’s Yahya Sinwar, he represented something they lacked: moral clarity, integrity, and unyielding dedication to the defence of his people. While presidents and prime ministers sent bombs or silence, these men stood defiantly against terror inflicted upon their populations.

Nasrallah’s funeral in February this year, became one of the largest public gatherings in Lebanese history. Over 1.4 million mourners from across the globe filled the streets of Beirut and the southern suburbs, waving Hezbollah flags, chanting tributes, and honoring a man who, in their eyes, stood against foreign aggression and Western interference. The scale of the outpouring could not be ignored — yet Western media barely acknowledged it.

Their silence spoke volumes.

For more than two decades, Nasrallah led Hezbollah — the Shia political and paramilitary organisation that rose from the rubble of Lebanon’s 15-year civil war and the 1982 Israeli invasion. Under his leadership, Hezbollah became not only a potent military force, but also the most effective deterrent to Israeli incursions into Lebanon.

To the West, he was the face of a “terrorist organisation.” To his supporters, Nasrallah was something far more complex: a strategist, a spiritual figurehead, and above all, a resistance leader — not unlike the French partisans who fought Nazi occupation during World War II.

Western governments — particularly the US, Canada, and Israel — have long designated Hezbollah a terrorist group. This classification disregards Hezbollah’s political legitimacy in Lebanon, where it holds parliamentary seats and forms part of governing coalitions. Its vast social infrastructure — from hospitals and schools to disaster relief and food distribution — fills critical voids left by a faltering, corrupt, and sectarian Lebanese state.

Nasrallah’s leadership brought tangible improvements to the lives of many Lebanese. In rural regions abandoned by central authorities, Hezbollah built roads and delivered water. During the 2020 Beirut port explosion, Hezbollah-backed groups mobilised faster than state agencies. During COVID-19, its health network proved to be one of the most organised in the country. While government agencies failed to respond to growing poverty, Hezbollah expanded free clinics and food relief programs.

This wasn’t just resistance through arms — it was resistance through service. And that’s what made Nasrallah dangerous to the West: he offered a functioning, grassroots alternative.

The West’s demonisation of Nasrallah intensified after the 2006 war between Hezbollah and Israel, sparked by a cross-border raid that led to a massive Israeli military response. Over 1,100 Lebanese civilians were killed and more than a million displaced during Israel’s 34-day bombardment. Western media parroted Israeli claims of self-defence — yet across Lebanon and much of the Arab world, Hezbollah was seen as the side that had not only endured, but prevailed.

Hezbollah’s ability to resist and withstand Israel’s assault shifted the power dynamics in the region. That’s when the West realised Nasrallah wasn’t just a nuisance. He was a threat to the narrative.

The term “terrorist” has long been deployed selectively by Western powers. The African National Congress, the Irish Republican Army — even Nelson Mandela — were once smeared with the same label. In time, these movements were recognised as legitimate struggles against occupation and oppression. Hezbollah may be on the same trajectory.

Critics cite Hezbollah’s alignment with Iran, its role in Syria, and its independent military infrastructure. But these critiques often ignore the context: Israel’s repeated violations of Lebanese sovereignty, the Lebanese army’s incapacity to defend its borders, and Hezbollah’s crucial role in repelling ISIS-aligned militants.

This is not a simple story of good and evil. It is a story about who gets to define resistance, sovereignty, and legitimacy. The West calls it terrorism when it suits its interests — but for many Lebanese, Hezbollah was the only line of defence.

Nasrallah’s assassination, reportedly carried out by Israeli intelligence with Western complicity, triggered both celebration and condemnation. In Washington and parts of Europe, silence prevailed. In Tel Aviv, there were cheers. But in Beirut, Tehran, Damascus, Baghdad, Sanaa, and refugee camps across Palestine, grief turned into collective resolve.

His funeral was not only a farewell — it was a rejection of the propaganda that tried to erase him.

Western portrayals of their adversaries — Hezbollah, Hamas, Iran, Russia’s Vladimir Putin, China’s Xi Jinping, even Gaddafi — are increasingly crumbling under global scrutiny. The war in Ukraine has accelerated this collapse. As NATO and the US funnel weapons into an unwinnable proxy war, and Israel continues to bomb Gaza with impunity, it becomes harder to maintain the illusion of moral superiority.

The old narrative of “freedom versus terrorism” is losing its grip. More people are now asking: who really fuels global instability? Who defines terror — and who benefits from the definition?

Nasrallah’s legacy is now being reappraised, not just as a Lebanese figure, but as a symbol of broader resistance — against imperialism, Zionism, and Western militarism cloaked in the rhetoric of democracy and human rights.

What cannot be denied is Nasrallah’s funeral shattered the lie that he was a fringe figure driven by sectarian dogma. His death, and the global mourning it sparked, exposed the fragility of the Western narrative — a narrative that could never see him as his people did.

It's easier to brand an enemy a monster than to confront the legitimacy of their struggle.

But if the streets of Beirut showed anything in February it’s that no empire, no headline, no silence can bury the truth carried by 1.4 million mourners — united not by hate, but by honor, memory, and the enduring will to resist.