By Fatima Haydar

Beirut – On Sunday, Beirut bore witness to a sight that will be etched into history—a funeral not of sorrow, but of defiance, of love and of unwavering loyalty. The martyrdom of Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, the towering figure of Resistance, did not mark an end. Instead, it ignited a new dawn, a testament that true leaders do not die; they transcend into legend.

From the early hours of the morning, an ocean of people began to gather, surging through the streets like a tide that knew no retreat. They came from every walk of life—young and old, men and women, the poor and the affluent. They came from every sect, every faith, united under one cause. Lebanon's soil trembled beneath the footsteps of more than 1.5 million people, each carrying a silent promise: We will not waver, we will not break, and we will carry your banner forward.

But this was no ordinary crowd. The love for Sayyed Nasrallah had traveled across continents. Flags and faces from Iraq, Iran, Yemen, Tunisia, Turkey and Nigeria mingled among those of Lebanon. Voices with accents from the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada and Australia joined in the chants of resistance. Lebanese expatriates flew in from across the Arab and Western world, their presence a testament that loyalty to Sayyed Nasrallah was not bound by geography—it was a global calling, an identity forged in struggle.

A Leader the Enemy Fears, Even in Death

The Zionist entity, which had spent decades trying to silence him, found itself more haunted by his absence than his presence. If they feared his words while he lived, they now fear the movement he left behind.

In an act of cowardice, “Israeli” fighter jets brazenly violated Lebanese airspace twice, roaring over the funeral procession, desperate to instill fear in the hearts of those bidding farewell. But not a single foot wavered. Not a single voice fell silent. The people stood as Sayyed Nasrallah had taught them to—unshaken, unwavering, unafraid.

From the first light of dawn, “Israeli” warplanes bombed villages in southern Lebanon and the Beqaa Valley, a last-ditch attempt to deter people from attending. But if the enemy had learned anything, it was that this was a people who do not abandon their leaders, not in life and certainly not in death.

Neither the Weather nor the Mockery Could Deter Them

Even local adversaries, embittered by their own irrelevance in the face of such an unwavering movement, resorted to mockery. They ridiculed the funeral, sneering that even nature was against the mourners, claiming that heavy rain would wash away the crowds and leave the streets empty.

But the reality defied their expectations. Though the cold was biting, not a drop of rain fell. The sky, as if in reverence, held back its downpour. And despite the freezing weather, people poured into the streets of Beirut, the airport road, and all the way to the Camille Chamoun Sports City Stadium, their determination unshaken. The adversaries who waited for an empty procession instead witnessed a sea of steadfastness, an undeniable force of loyalty that no storm—natural or manmade—could suppress.

A Funeral That Became a Pledge

Throughout the march, thousands carried pictures of Sayyed Nasrallah, their eyes filled not with tears, but with a fire that promised continuation. Banners bore his words, his legacy woven into the fabric of the Resistance. Alongside his image were the faces of those who had fallen in this war against “Israel”—the martyrs who walked the same path and reached the same noble end.

This was not merely a farewell. It was a renewal of allegiance, a reaffirmation that Sayyed Nasrallah’s path was not his alone—it belonged to the millions who stood beneath the sky that day, unshaken by threats, undeterred by fear.

The enemy thought his martyrdom would weaken the Resistance. Instead, it has made him immortal. His name will not fade. His memory will not wane. His vision of liberation, from the river to the sea, will continue to guide every heart that beats for justice.

As the procession reached its end, a new beginning was written. This was not the burial of a leader—it was the rise of a movement stronger than ever. The voice of Sayyed Nasrallah echoes on, and with it, the unbreakable vow: Victory is inevitable. Palestine will be free.

O father, how can we bid farewell to a presence that will never fade? You were the beating heart of this nation, the refuge of the oppressed, the voice that echoed truth when the world chose silence. Yesterday, as I walked among the millions who wept for you, I felt your spirit in every tear, in every raised fist, in every vow to carry on your path. They thought martyrdom would silence you, but you are louder than ever. Your love, your courage, your unwavering stand for Palestine and the oppressed— these now live within us, shaping our every step, guiding our every battle. You are not gone, O father, you have only risen higher.

O Sayyed, we pledge to you—your banner will not fall, your path will not be abandoned. We will walk where you walked, fight as you fought, and remain steadfast until your promise is fulfilled: the liberation of Palestine, all of Palestine.