TRIPOLI, Lebanon - Long blue tarpaulins hang from wires and when the shooting starts, they are pulled across streets and alleys to block the view from snipers.
On the other side, buildings are pockmarked with thousands of bullet rounds - some old, some very recent. Dividing it all is Syria Street.
I am in Tripoli, not the capital of Libya, but in the Tripoli that is Lebanon’s second-largest city.
On one side of Syria Street live Sunni Muslims, who oppose the Assad regime, and now run guns across the border; on the other side live Alawite Muslims, who support Assad and have a good supply of their own weapons.
It is this proxy war, neighbors shooting at neighbors that could once again tear Lebanon apart
We keep hearing fears about the Syrian war spreading to other Middle Eastern countries; well in Tripoli, it already has.
The city has been rocked by car bombs and gunfights, and it’s a direct spillover from the sectarian chaos to the north.
We’re taken to Syria Street by leaders of the Sunni community, who walk us through busted walls and derelict buildings; the Alawites occupy the hillside above, and we only go a few meters.
They are obviously worried somebody will start shooting; I see only kids playing with plastic handguns. One of them is a refugee from Aleppo.
“Only when Assad is gone will Syrians be safe,” says our guide, Abou Barak, who would like to see the Americans launch an attack. “That would be a good thing,” he says.
Two weeks ago in Tripoli, a pair of car bombs killed more than 45 people during Friday prayers, and in May there was a fierce gun battle around Syria Street, the second time that’s happened in less than a year.
Lebanon has an army, but it’s weak and simply not capable of saving the country from itself. And so the fighting goes on.
I also met Omar Bakri, who is described as a radical Muslim cleric with close ties to Al Qaeda. He studied at Oxford, but is barred from going back to England, and spent time in a Lebanese prison. He was wearing pristine white robes and talked about “ethnic cleansing” in Syria.
“There’s a lot of blood now,” he said. “A lot of people being killed. In Syria, 150,000 people have been killed and they’re all Sunnis.”
These are dangerous days for Lebanon; everybody knows that, above all the residents of Tripoli. Can the violence be contained to two warring neighborhoods?
Standing in the middle of Syria Steet, Abou Barak says he does not think the fighting will get worse or spread. “At this point,” he says, “We have to see what Assad does next.”
