The summertime war between Hezbollah and Israel stripped many Lebanese of their livelihoods and drained them of hope. With the economy in shreds and sectarian splits cracking open, there is a sense that the status quo is not worth preserving.
"I can see it in the eyes of my students," said Walid A. Fakherddine, a media and communications professor at the American University of Science and Technology. "The people are ready to go to war, or they want to leave the country. They can't stay where they are."
Many Lebanese even describe a sort of nostalgia for civil war, especially among youths too young to remember the bloody horrors of street battles, kidnappings and mortar attacks.
There is still hope the two sides can negotiate their way out of the crisis. But these days, many Lebanese bluntly say they expect to face another civil war; others just shrug and say "anything can happen."
Few rule out the possibility of further fighting.
Many people are afraid that if Hezbollah and its allies take to the streets in coming days to demand a change in government, as they have repeatedly pledged to do, clashes will erupt. Hezbollah members swear they will stay in the streets until the government falls. And their rivals have threatened to unleash security forces to defend government institutions attacked by demonstrators.
"We fear the reaction of the ruling majority when and if we decide to carry out these protests," said Trad Hamadeh, a Hezbollah member who resigned, along with other Shiite political officials, as labor minister this month. "They control security. They control the real power on the ground."
Lebanon's political woes deepened when Pierre Gemayel, the 34-year-old minister of industry and scion of a powerful Christian political family, was gunned down in the streets of Beirut last week.
Since Gemayel's death, the capital has become a montage of scenes of tension. Sunni and Shiite gangs have clashed in the southern suburbs. Rival Christian gangs brawled in the Christian neighborhood of Achrafieh.
During one recent rally, Christian electronics student Akouri stood on the gravel in a vacant lot during a rally in downtown Beirut. Nearby, college-age youths cupped hands around lit candles and chanted, "The one who killed Pierre, we want to drink his blood!" and, referring to Hezbollah leader Sheik Hassan Nasrallah, "Wait, Nasrallah, wait. We will dig your grave."
