As a Creditor, Not a Victim

Lawyer Rabih Hanna Tannous

In a country where politics intertwines with money to the extent that the boundaries between public decision-making and financial administration dissolve, the bank is no longer merely a credit institution but has become a mirror reflecting a system in which the balance of responsibility has been disrupted. An organic relationship has developed between the political class and the banking sector, along with the Central Bank of Lebanon, making financing a condition of governance and governance a shelter for financing. From this interdependence, a single system was born, not separate parties, in which benefits were distributed and mistakes accumulated, while the depositor was pushed to the margins, outside their natural position.

A deposit, in its essence, is neither an emotional concept nor an act of risk-taking, but a precise legal relationship: a fixed debt owed by the bank, governed by clear legal rules from the Currency and Credit Law, the Commercial Law, and the Obligations and Contracts Law. It is based on a fundamental obligation to return the money upon request. There is no participation in losses, no open delegation, and no suspension of the right due to circumstances. Nevertheless, at the moment of collapse, the equation was reversed, turning the right into a burden, and the creditor was asked to understand the debtor's inability, as if the obligation were negotiable rather than a binding duty.

With the exposure of this imbalance, instead of moving toward accountability and determining responsibilities, the system resorted to redefining the rights holders themselves. Artificial divisions appeared among depositors as "large," "small," "old," "new," "beneficiaries," and "non-beneficiaries"—without any legal or scientific economic standard. The truth is that the status of creditor is singular and indivisible, differing only in quantitative terms that do not affect the principle. These classifications were attempts to weaken the right by fragmenting its holders and to reduce responsibility by dispersing claims.

Over time, the crisis was not addressed as a breach of contracts and obligations but as a political file subject to management and postponement. The discussion shifted from "Who is responsible?" to "How are the losses distributed?" as if the deposit were a negotiable commodity rather than a debt that must be paid. Thus, the rule gave way to the exception, and accountability disappeared behind technical language managing the crisis, while trust—the capital of any banking system—was the first to erode. However, no matter how long time passes, error does not become right. Debt may be subject to statutes of limitations, but rights do not lapse due to moral expiration. What was lost was not merely numbers that can be erased but the fruit of long effort and legitimate confidence in a state and institutions that were supposed to be more solid than the fragility of politics. Trust, once broken, is not restored by statements or technical plans but by restoring the law as a reference and accountability as the only path to justice.

At the end of this path, the depositor regains their true position: a creditor, not a victim. Rights do not reverse due to crisis, nor do they become symbolic claims, and deposits are not erased because they became a burden on a troubled authority. They remain debts that must be paid by those who received, managed, and benefited from them. Can a society reclaim its rights if it does not first reclaim its awareness and insist on remaining a creditor, not a victim?