Robert and Georges Abdallah: Between Memory and a Voice on the Phone
By Ana Maria Ohan Guzelian – Jul 25, 2025
Robert Abdallah, who dedicated the past 10 years of his life fighting for his brother’s release, is still in disbelief that Georges Ibrahim Abduallah, Europe’s longest-held political prisoner, is finally expected to return home to Lebanon this Saturday, July 26*.
“I haven’t yet digested the moment,” Robert says bluntly. “What I hope is something else entirely. But how Georges would look or what he might do, I have no idea. The image is blurry; I can’t anticipate anything.”
Robert, who was only 18 when his older brother was arrested in France in 1984, has lived since then in the shadows of George’s imprisonment. “Since the decision of his release was made, I haven’t fully comprehended the idea,” he admits quietly. “I have no emotions, believe me. I’m incapable of feeling anything. The moment when I see him and hug him, nothing has activated in my mind yet.”
Robert’s words and numbness are a reminder of the invisible wounds inflicted not just on political prisoners, but on the families who endure the relentless cruelty of state injustice.
The Reluctant State
Abdallah was sentenced to life in prison in 1987 for alleged involvement in the assassination of US military attache Charles Robert Ray and Israeli diplomat Yacov Barsimantov. He has been eligible for parole since 1999. Last November, a French court ordered his release, but France’s anti-terror prosecutors appealed the decision, arguing he “had not changed his political views.” That appeal suspended the decision.
This month, the Paris Appeals Court ordered that he be freed from a prison in the south of France on Friday, July 25, on the condition that he leave French territory and never return. According to Robert, Georges is expected to arrive in Lebanon around 2 PM on Saturday*.
Despite repeated legal victories and backing from international human rights groups, successive French authorities refused for decades to finalize his release, succumbing to continuous pressure from the US and the Israeli entity.
Meanwhile, the Lebanese state maintained a position of unsettling ambivalence toward Abdallah’s case. Though his family and the committee for his release consistently pushed for intervention, the state’s response remained fragmented and inadequate.
“By 2000 to 2003, at least, the state should have been able to act on with a release decision, even if preliminary,” he says. Some judges had openly stated that Georges should be released, yet, according to Robert, “the state should have supported those judges, amplified their position, expanded it, and made adjustments, but this did not happen.”
He acknowledges that some efforts by the government were made, but described them as “the bare minimum,” given the weight and duration of Georges’s case.
A Selective Memory
Rober is especially critical of what he describes as Lebanon’s selective political memory.
“The state is trends,” he says. “But even the trend of sovereignty, independence, and love for the US, most of them were part of these political experiments, whether Fatah or others,” he adds, referring to the politicians who took part in armed operations during the 1980s.
“They don’t feel the weight of the fact that this man could have been any one of them?”
In Robert’s words lies a powerful indictment of Lebanon’s broader failure to confront its own history.
“The state should act on part of its history. What is history? Either you call it a shameful stain that has followed you, and confront it publicly, or you go on remembering only fragments of it.”
Memories That Outlasted Captivity
Memories of Georges before his arrest remain vivid, a blend of admiration, nostalgia, and complexity. He was already heavily involved in national work, rarely home, yet profoundly present in shaping his younger brother’s early consciousness.
Robert recalls childhood moments steeped in both affection and discipline. Georges insisted they read constantly; education was non-negotiable.
“He used to bring us these small, enjoyable booklets,” Hassoun the Little One and others I’ve started forgetting now,” Robert says. Georges would introduce each booklet with charm and excitement, building anticipation. “He made a nice introduction, and we thought it would be fun. But no, reading was a “burden,” and if you didn’t read, you would be held accountable. He made us excited, but in his own way.”
One of Robert’s most cherished memories is the pride he felt accompanying Georges to school on his motorcycle. Georges was the supervisor, principal, and teacher at a modest rural school composed of just two rooms.
“The sound of the motorcycle was the school bell,” Robert recalls. “When he used to arrive, the kids would run after him. He taught a mixed class- sometimes all the grades together, or every three or four at once.”
In their village, Georges commanded both admiration and awe.
“People feared him and loved him at the same time,” says Robert. He was known for rising above sectarian divisions, stepping in to resolve problems that others wouldn’t dare approach. This aspect of Georges’s character profoundly influenced Robert. “Georges, to us, was someone who couldn’t be taken away. We believed anything could happen to anyone, but not him.”
That sense of invincibility disappeared with Georges’s arrest. “It had a huge impact on us,” Robert says. He vividly remembers the family’s Sunday routine, waiting by the phone for Georges to call. “Everyone had to be present. No one was allowed to answer except my mother.”
“About five years before her death, my mother stopped visiting him in prison. It was just too difficult for her,” Robert says. Breaking the news of her passing to Georges, years later, was another difficult moment. “Her death was hard for us and him.”
Georges Abdallah Freed, Returns to Lebanon After Over 40 Years in French Prison
Returning to a Changed Landscape
As Georges prepares to return to Lebanon at age 74, Robert is not sure what awaits them.
“It’s difficult for me to see him change in this regard,” he admits. “I’m disturbed by the idea that something might be off, that Georges won’t look the way I remember him.” He fears the toll of decades in prison, both physical and emotional. “What scares me most is not knowing who he’ll be now.”
He also worries about how Georges will perceive the country he’s returning to. In 2013, Lebanese journalist Talal Salman published an article titled “Georges Abdullah, don’t return to Lebanon”, painting a grim picture of the country’s reality. “Today the situation is worse than it was back then,” Robert says.
As Georges Abdallah’s return nears, the memories carried by his family speak to the long silence imposed by unjust captivity, and to the price paid by those who resist, when states would rather forget. What remains is not only the absence left behind, but the weight of a history left unanswered.
*In a sudden and unexpected decision, French authorities released Georges Abdallah today. He is now expected to arrive in Lebanon around 2:30 PM on Friday, July 25.
