THE BATTLE FOR LEBANON.

On a deceptively peaceful afternoon in the last week of July, Ali Fayyad, a Hezbollah strategist, puffed on a cigar and spooned up a dish of ice cream. Three scoops: chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. We were sitting in Lina's Cafe, on Rue Hamra, in downtown Beirut. For eleven days, the city had been shuttered, nearly empty of people and traffic, as the Israeli military pounded Beirut's southern suburbs and the south of the country, where Hezbollah, the "Party of God," had dug its tunnels and bunkers and stored thousands of Iranian-built missiles. Bridges, tunnels, roads, and apartment buildings lay in ruins, and almost three-quarters of a million Lebanese had fled their homes in fear. But for the moment, at least, Ali Fayyad ate his ice cream in peace. Some of the shops were open, and more people were out on the street, because Condoleezza Rice was in town to meet with the Lebanese leadership and everyone figured--rightly––that the Israelis would hold fire over downtown Beirut until she left.

Fayyad is a burly man in his forties. As a member of the Hezbollah politburo, he is close to the group's supreme leader, Sheikh Hassan Nasrallah, and everything he told me at Lina's, about the cross-border abduction of two Israeli soldiers and the killing of eight others on July 12th, and the all-out armed conflict that followed, was an authorized version. "Our aim is to get Israel to return Lebanese lands"--he meant Shebaa Farms, a small strip of land occupied by Israel since 1967--"and to release three of our prisoners," Fayyad said. "One of the prisoners has been held for almost thirty years." He was referring to Samir Kuntar, a Lebanese man who, in 1979, killed an Israeli man and his four-year-old daughter. (Another daughter, who was two, was accidentally smothered when her mother tried to keep her quiet in the crawl space where they were hiding.)

"We've made many efforts to have them returned, and have tried everything, including diplomacy, with no results," Fayyad said. "So we were left with no other choice but to kidnap Israeli soldiers. The idea was 'prisoners for prisoners.' And we have exchanged prisoners with Israel in the past."

If that really was Hezbollah's plan, it went wrong from the beginning. Tensions were already high, because of the Hamas kidnapping of an Israeli soldier in Gaza, two weeks earlier, and Israel responded with bombing raids, including one, the next day, on Beirut's airport. That night, a rocket fired from Hezbollah territory hit Haifa, and more missiles, in both directions, soon followed, resulting in casualties and the threat of regional war.

Fayyad seemed both surprised and offended by the scale of the Israeli attack, which he said Hezbollah never expected. Although Hezbollah's rockets were landing in Haifa, Nahariya, Safed, and Nazareth, he also claimed that it had been reluctant to target civilians. "First, for humanitarian and moral reasons, and, second, because when civilians are killed we come out as the losers," he said. "Far more of our people get killed than Israel's." Still, for Fayyad, the events had the logic of reprisal: Israel had hit "civilian infrastructure," and so Hezbollah fired rockets into "occupied Palestine," by which he meant all of Israel.

The past two weeks have represented a return to first principles for Hezbollah, which was founded in the early eighties, after Israel invaded Lebanon. The group became known internationally when it was accused of bombing the United States Marine barracks in Beirut in 1983, killing two hundred and forty-one American servicemen; that was followed by attacks on Israeli targets around the world. In Lebanon, Hezbollah draws support, in the Shiite community and beyond, for its role in driving the Israeli occupation forces out of the country in 2000. Since then, Hezbollah has presented itself as a political party, gaining two posts in the Lebanese cabinet and fourteen seats in the parliament. But, rather than disarming, it bolstered its military capacity, with Iranian and Syrian help. Now that it is under siege, the contradictions of its position--as part of the Lebanese state, but also as a clandestine body that subverts it--are plainer than ever. On July 14th, Nasrallah went on television and addressed Israel directly: "You wanted an open war. We are heading toward an open war, and we are ready for it."

The Israelis, led by Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and his novice Defense Minister, Amir Peretz, quickly shifted their aims from retrieving the soldiers to destroying, or at least crippling, Hezbollah. Hundreds of Lebanese had already been killed, most of them civilians; dozens of Israelis had been killed, about half ...