During these parades large quantities of arms, among them Katyushas, were displayed for all to see. And as Chekhov's rule states, if you introduce a gun in the first act, it must go off by the last.

Hizbullah activists, dressed in military uniforms and holding their yellow flags, didn't come out of thin air. Many were - and still are - residents of south Lebanese cities and villages, or had relatives there. They were many, they were armed, and they had cash; lots of it.

During the past six years, the South had experienced a remarkable recovery that was sponsored mainly by Hizbullah. The organization's construction company built community centers, hospitals and schools that were needed in the area. Their hospitals were better and cheaper than the government's, their schools offered free education and free meals for kids from needy families. Their construction company also lent materials for those who wanted to build their own houses to replace their old huts.

As it turned out, not only posh villas with red roofs were erected in Bint Jbeil and Ayta ash-Shaab, but also weapons warehouses, bunkers and military bases.

Not only money, but also weapons were pouring into the South, turning it into a Hizbullah bastion. Providing a wide social network for the population and fighting for the rights of local citizens - already sympathetic to the causes of God's party - Hizbullah activists gained overwhelming support and 100 percent freedom of movement and action in the area.

Moreover, in 2001, Hizbullah, whose funding came in part from the large hashish fields in the South, openly confronted the central government that insisted on eradicating these crops in the Beqaa valley. Hizbullah's MPs used the press to attack the government and the decision to eradicate the hashish fields in Beqaa was never fully implemented. This was just one more sign of the organization's rising strength - and the Lebanese government's growing weakness.

DRIVING TO the South from Beirut just a few days prior to the breakout of hostilities in the region, it struck me that I hadn't seen even one Lebanese army post or members of the Lebanese police force since I left the outskirts of Beirut. Not even traffic police appeared. (It turns out that there are moments when you actually do want to see traffic police.)

Since Israel pulled out of the South, neither the Lebanese nor the Syrian army had filled in the gap. Here, and in the southern suburbs of Beirut, there was little sympathy for the central government dominated by Christian Marronites and Sunni Muslims who seemed insensitive to the needs of the population in the South.

Even on the day of murdered prime minister Rafiq al-Hariri's funeral, the only regions that seemed unaffected by grief and sorrow were Harat al-Hreik in the southern suburb of Beirut, and Nabatiya - the capital of the South. In the vacuum created by the IDF's 2000 withdrawal, Nabatiya has also arguably become the capital of Hizbullahland.

Why didn't the Lebanese army deploy in the South right after Israel's withdrawal in 2000? I put the question to a colleague, a Lebanese journalist who covered south Lebanon affairs at the time.

"It was never a real option," he said. "Hizbullah was always a dominating force in this region, and the Lebanese army was indeed too weak to dictate its power. Some people in the government realized what a grave mistake it was making, but were not able to make a move. You also have to remember that at the time, Syria still held Lebanon firmly in its jaws."

Although the Syrian army was never deployed in the South (it had units in Beirut, Metn, Bekaa Valley, Tripoli, Batrum and Kafr Kalous), many arms deliveries that came through the Syrian-Lebanese border were conveyed or brought with the help of the Syrian army, which felt quite at home in Lebanon.

As for public opinion in the South, many Lebanese, not only among the Hizbullah supporters, always felt threatened by Israel and believed that in the case of attack or aggression, they could only seek the protection of "the resistance." Both in Lebanese cities and in Palestinian refugee camps I heard people saying, "They [Israel] will never leave Lebanon alone." Just a few months ago, when things were still quiet at the border with Israel, a man in the Ein-Hilwe Palestinian Refugee Camp, near the Lebanese town of Saida, showed me the machine-gun on the roof of his house and explained that it was meant for the Jews, when "they come."

As for the residents of south Lebanon, who have witnessed many Israeli incursions, they always trusted the armed resistance movements where their own sons had fought. They did not trust the impotent Lebanese army.

The trouble spot
There were some Lebanese who didn't wish to see the South turning into the Hizbullahland that it eventually became. A few courageous politicians and journalists constantly warned about the phenomena that threatened both Lebanese sovereignty and stability.

Among those who incessantly spoke and wrote about this menace was An-Nahar newspaper editor, Jibran Tweini. "We want to know, honestly, who supports the exclusive right of Hizbullah to conduct operations from Lebanese territory, according to its will and the will of its regional partners. We want to hear a clear position and not 'diplomatic' declarations supporting the problem but not clarifying if they actually support the operation, the decision-making [that led to it] and its implementation - unless the ghost of fear - of whom? - has taken control of those responsible and put a dampener on them and their independent decision-making," Tweini wrote in 2003.