BEIRUT — On one point, the United States agrees with Hezbollah's No. 2 leader, Naim Qassem, and not such allies as Britain.
Neither Qassem nor Washington distinguish between the Shiite militant group's political wing, which has members serving in the Lebanese Cabinet and parliament, and its military wing, preparing for the next round of battle against Israel. "Hezbollah has a single leadership," said the 57-year-old cleric in a rare interview with an American reporter recently.
"All political, social and jihad work is tied to the decisions of this leadership," he said. "The same leadership that directs the parliamentary and government work also leads jihad actions in the struggle against Israel."
To the alarm of Israel and the United States, Hezbollah has been enjoying increased legitimacy across the world. The British Foreign Ministry recently said it would shift course and begin talks with Hezbollah political leaders. And Latin American lawmakers and European peace activists attend Hezbollah conferences on "resistance" to Israel.
As the militant group emerges from a period of relative silence after the 2006 war with Israel and the subsequent Lebanese political crisis, its leaders appear more confident and determined than ever to represent Lebanon's Shiite Muslim population as well as challenge Israel.
This month Hezbollah's leader, Sheik Hassan Nasrallah, announced the group's candidates for parliament in crucial June general elections. In a low-key speech announcing personnel changes, he sounded more like a corporate executive than the leader of arguably the Middle East's most powerful nonstate actor.
But that does not mean Hezbollah is becoming a typical political party. It views itself as under threat and continues to maintain a militant posture and its weapons. Numerous Hezbollah leaders have been assassinated over the years, including military commander Imad Mughniyah last year.
Qassem's visitors must abide by extensive security precautions. After being swiped with a metal detector and handing over their cellphones last week, two reporters and an interpreter were placed into the back seat of a dark, late-model SUV with tinted windows, driven around south Beirut to a parking garage, then escorted into a nearly identical vehicle before being driven to yet another parking garage and guided up the elevator to a modest conference room. There, the white-bearded, white-turbaned cleric who is Nasrallah's deputy sat on a couch and outlined the Iranian-backed group's plans, vision and relations with the outside world.
