By Anthony Shadid
Washington Post Foreign Service
Friday, January 26, 2007; A10
BEIRUT, Jan. 25 -- The Lebanese army imposed a curfew on the capital Thursday after hundreds of government supporters and foes wielded rocks, molotov cocktails and sometimes guns in street battles that dragged on past nightfall. Four people were killed and 150 wounded, officials said, many of them soldiers who at times stood helplessly between the two sides.
The clashes, which began in a university cafeteria and spread to the surrounding neighborhood of Tariq Jedideh, offered a bitter contrast to the optimism of an international conference in Paris, where more than $7.6 billion was pledged to help Lebanon's economy recover from last summer's war between Israel and the Shiite Muslim movement Hezbollah.
As the grants and loans were announced in Paris, bursts of gunfire echoed along the airport road here and columns of black smoke rose from burning cars. The clashes were some of the worst since Lebanon's 15-year civil war ended in 1990 and followed violence Tuesday that left three people dead.
Hundreds of Hezbollah followers, in red and blue helmets, poured into Tariq Jedideh, a Sunni neighborhood, many of them carrying sticks and chains. At one point, their opponents burned a Hezbollah banner, an act that spoke to the jarring rise in tension between Sunni Muslims, largely aligned with the government, and Hezbollah supporters since the crisis began two months ago.
The army and security officers deployed in force after the clashes erupted, but often fired into the air or simply gave way. For hours, crowds surged at each other, then retreated, usually separated by soldiers crouched behind armored personnel carriers. More clashes ensued elsewhere, as Sunni crowds firebombed the headquarters of a party allied with Hezbollah and Shiite youths rampaged along a downtown street lined with bank headquarters.
The images reverberated across Beirut, uneasy since Dec. 1, when Hezbollah and its allies began their campaign to topple the government of Prime Minister Fouad Siniora with a mass protest in the downtown area. The overburdened cellphone network was paralyzed. In the streets, there were grim reminders of the civil war: Swaggering young men asked residents whether they were Sunni or Shiite; cars were attacked because of their owner's sect; and both sides questioned whether the army could protect them.
"It's going to get worse. Look at all this," said Salah al-Sheikh, a 40-year-old Sunni resident, waving his hand toward a block of incinerated or smashed vehicles, the street littered with rocks, sticks and shattered glass. "A few days ago, they were in the same schools and the same universities. Look what's happening now. Why? That's all I want to ask. Why?"
Behind him, another Sunni resident shouted, "Give us weapons! Give us weapons!"
Across the street, Shiite crowds set fire to cars and released the emergency brakes of buses, letting them slam into concrete walls. Traffic signals were broken; street signs and an iron gate were torn down.
"Let them blow off steam," said an older, bearded man, dressed in the traditional black of Hezbollah's security force.
The fighting was an episode, writ small, of an increasingly precarious Middle East, riven by growing sectarian tension, simmering civil conflict here and in the Palestinian territories, and a deepening war in Iraq that followed the U.S.-led invasion in 2003. Leaders across the political divide called on their supporters to exercise restraint. Lebanese officials said the army insisted that all sides agree to a curfew before it declared its start at 8:30 p.m.
"I call on everyone to return to the voice of reason," Siniora said from Paris, where he attended the aid conference.
Hasan Nasrallah, Hezbollah's leader, issued a religious edict to his followers to withdraw. "This is an order on everyone," he said.
Nabih Berri, the speaker of parliament, whose Amal movement is allied with Hezbollah, warned that events were spiraling out of control: "We must all be united or we have to look for our country in the graveyard of history."
Almost from the beginning of the current crisis, many in Lebanon have predicted that only bloodshed would force a break in the deadlock between the government, supported by the United States and France, and an opposition led by Hezbollah, supported by Iran and Syria. Since then, the struggle -- effectively splitting the country into two camps divided by sect, ideology, perspective and loyalty to leaders -- has escalated. On Tuesday, Hezbollah, Amal and their Christian allies, who are led by Michel Aoun, enforced a nationwide strike by blocking thousands of roads with tires, uprooted trees and barricades of dirt and dumpsters.
As Thursday's battles raged, the country's politicians frantically called one another. Lebanese officials said Berri and Walid Jumblatt, a Druze leader allied with the government, spoke for the first time since the crisis began. All agreed to try to quiet the streets, although no initiative emerged. After the curfew took effect, the army said the streets were largely calm.
The battles began around noon with an argument between Shiite and Sunni students in the cafeteria of the Beirut Arab University. Each side accused the other of provocation, but within 15 minutes, university security officers separated the two groups. Sunni students said one of their own was then attacked on campus. Shiite students said the army tried to evacuate female students. As they left, Sunni students hit them and ripped off their veils, Shiite students said.
The fighting spilled into the tense Sunni neighborhood of Tariq Jedideh. Shiite students said that residents threw rocks and that at least three people fired on them from balconies. Mohammed Abdel Satir, a 21-year-old engineering student, said he and others then called Hezbollah officials, who dispatched men in trucks and vans.
"We don't trust the Lebanese army, and we saw this today with our own eyes," he said as he stood near knots of female students, some of them crying. "It's Hezbollah's duty to protect us. The government is not protecting us anymore."
The arrival of hundreds of Shiite residents inflamed tensions. Battles spread through the surrounding streets, with the airport road serving as a front line. Troops fired tear gas; at other times, they stood idly next to rock-throwing protesters.
"The blood of Shiites is boiling!" young men shouted.
Sunni residents urged the army to push back the Shiite crowds.
"Attack them!" one man yelled at the soldiers, his face contorted in anger.
Along the street, gunfire crackled into the night. Some Sunni residents tossed molotov cocktails into a parking lot, where young Shiite men had wrecked dozens of cars. Others threw rocks, some of them hitting soldiers.
"They came to our turf," said Mohammed Kraim, 23. "We want to face them with guns," he added. "This isn't fair."
Special correspondent Alia Ibrahim contributed to this report.