Can Lebanon’s diaspora build a lasting voice in Washington?

Edward Gabriel was forty before he set foot in Lebanon, the first of his family to return in nearly a century. Now president and CEO of the American Task Force on Lebanon (ATFL), Gabriel is focused on a question that goes beyond personal history: Can a diaspora’s attachment to its ancestral homeland become a lasting force in American foreign policy?

This September, Gabriel and the ATFL marked the organization’s fortieth anniversary by launching a $10 million endowment campaign, seeded with $7.2 million in board commitments. Gabriel argues the endowment is about more than financial security. “We want to make sure that Lebanon controls its own destiny, not determined by outside forces,” he says, calling for a sustained U.S.–Lebanon partnership that outlasts shifting headlines and administrations.

His fellow board members see the endowment as a turning point for Lebanese American influence in Washington. “I want the next generation of Lebanese Americans to inherit an institution, not a fundraising problem,” says Joe Geagea. “Having an endowment fund conveys permanence,” adds Ghassan Saab, signaling credibility to policymakers and the diaspora alike. Nijad Fares emphasizes ATFL’s inclusive, nonsectarian vision: “It does not bend to special interests but rather advocates US policy that will build a sovereign, prosperous and stable Lebanon.” And François Nader sees the fund as an investment in trust and dialogue: “Building trust and maintaining dialogue require time, patience and continuity. The endowment gives ATFL a more stable foundation to pursue its mission.”

Their shared ambition is to shift Lebanese American advocacy in Washington from crisis response to an enduring presence, turning personal loyalty into a permanent constituency that keeps Lebanon on the American agenda for generations.

Two different clocks

The endowment links immediate policy ambitions to generational commitment. For Geagea, it ensures the Lebanese American voice in Washington will outlast his generation. Saab sees the endowment as a signal of credibility and seriousness for both policymakers and the Lebanese American community. Nader underscores that only with time, patience, and continuity can trust and real dialogue be built.

For decades, Lebanese Americans have played a distinctive, sometimes underestimated, role in Washington, acting as cultural ambassadors, policy advocates, and a bridge between two nations with intertwined histories. In a city where foreign policy priorities shift with each administration, a well-organized diaspora can make the difference between fleeting sympathy and sustained engagement. ATFL’s goal is not just to serve as a temporary voice for Lebanon, but to embed Lebanese American concerns into the fabric of American foreign policy, ensuring their ancestral homeland stays on the U.S. agenda regardless of shifting political winds.

This is the campaign’s central wager: permanence can create possibilities that episodic advocacy cannot. An organization that survives between crises can preserve relationships, accumulate expertise, and keep making its case even when its subject no longer commands attention.

Yet these are plausible arguments for institutional investment, not proof of policy influence. The harder question is what a more durable ATFL would enable Washington to understand or do differently.

From advocacy to strategy

Gabriel argues for a shift in how Washington views Lebanon: not simply as a recurring problem requiring assistance, but as a potential strategic partner. He envisions a relationship that includes stronger Lebanese security institutions, transparent government, private-sector opportunity, and regional infrastructure connections. “We want to make sure that Lebanon controls its own destiny, not determined by outside forces,” Gabriel says.

That vision makes sovereignty an institutional project, not just a diplomatic slogan. It requires security institutions that can protect the country, a government accountable to citizens, and conditions that let young Lebanese imagine a future at home. Gabriel hopes the U.S. will expand the relationship into a strategic regional partnership, involving cooperation not only on security and intelligence but also on energy, electricity, transportation, and regional connections.

The ambition deserves scrutiny. A diaspora organization cannot substitute for Lebanese political decisions or reconcile competing American priorities. Nor does advocating stronger state institutions guarantee they will become effective or accountable. But the endowment offers a useful lens for examining Gabriel’s argument: sustaining such an agenda requires more than a successful meeting or a favorable administration. In the crowded ecosystem of K Street and Capitol Hill, only persistent, credible advocacy can keep smaller countries like Lebanon from disappearing. It demands an American constituency, rooted in the Lebanese American community, that can translate its concerns into the language of national interest for U.S. policymakers.

Who speaks for the community?

ATFL describes itself as independent, nonsectarian, and nonpartisan, with a mission of educating policymakers and the public about the importance of the bilateral relationship. Fares highlights this bipartisan and nonsectarian approach as key to its legitimacy: “It does not bend to special interests but rather advocates US policy that will build a sovereign, prosperous, and stable Lebanon.”

Yet claiming to speak for a community raises questions that financial stability alone cannot settle. Which Lebanese American priorities shape the agenda? How are disagreements resolved? What influence do major contributors exercise? And how will younger members help define the mission rather than merely sustain it?

Twenty supporters committing millions of dollars shows strong confidence in an institution, but it does not mean every part of a diverse community shares its policy preferences. The challenge is to make participation meaningful enough that the organization’s authority can renew itself alongside its finances.

“This endowment belongs to the whole community, not to a handful of donors,” Geagea says. Making that aspiration tangible will be an important measure of the campaign’s success.

Inheriting an attachment

Gabriel’s own story complicates the assumption that ancestral connections inevitably weaken with time. He first visited Lebanon at forty, the first in his family to do so in nearly a century. He grew up with Lebanese heritage passed down through family stories rather than direct experience. ATFL helped turn that inherited identity into engagement.

“If it weren’t for ATFL,” he says, he and others whose lives the organization touched would know less about Lebanon and would not be involved in advancing the relationship.

His experience suggests institutions can do more than preserve an existing attachment; they can help create one. That possibility underpins ATFL’s Next Generation initiative, which Gabriel describes as an effort to involve people under thirty-five. Fares, too, sees the endowment as a foundation through which children and grandchildren can sustain a voice in Washington. But succession cannot mean expecting younger Lebanese Americans to reproduce their elders’ priorities unchanged. A lasting institution must give them room to decide what engagement means, and to challenge the assumptions they inherit.

What money can and cannot preserve

The endowment’s precise role needs clarification. Gabriel says it isn't intended to contribute to the annual operating budget, but to be an invested asset that can grow and support emergencies or unexpected opportunities. Geagea notes broader benefits: planning, retaining people, and responding to crises without pausing to raise money. Saab believes it enables long-term planning and strengthens ATFL’s message. Nader calls it an investment in sustaining engagement and dialogue.

These expectations may be compatible, but the distinction matters. A reserve fund, a recurring income stream, and an expansion fund offer different kinds of security. None guarantees relevance.

The most consequential inheritance these donors could leave is not simply financial. It is an institution that can earn trust, demonstrate its policy contribution, and allow new participants to reshape its purpose. If successful, ATFL’s model could serve as a template for other diaspora communities seeking to move beyond nostalgia toward concrete influence in the American policy process. The endowment can give ATFL time. Whether that time produces a more durable U.S.–Lebanon partnership will depend on what the organization does with it, and whether another generation decides the relationship is worth carrying forward.