BEIRUT, Lebanon, Jan. 16 (UPI) -- It is clear the massive bombing that killed former Prime Minister Rafik Hariri on Valentine's Day last year in one of Beirut's most beautiful streets overlooking the Mediterranean has brought changes here -- at least on the outside.
The bombed area on the Ain Mraiseh seafront, still sealed off as an international investigation continues to probe the assassination, apparently caused much bigger damage than the images seen on television screens and the first thought that comes to mind is how only 20 people perished in that explosion.
The repercussions of that deadly blast that targeted the man who was credited for rebuilding Beirut and other parts of the country destroyed by the 1975-1990 civil war continues to reverberate.
Large murals of Syrian President Bashar Assad a year ago are now replaced with even larger ones of Hariri and his son, parliament member Saad Hariri, who seeks to continue his father's legacy.
The walls where the ruling Syrian Baath Party slogans had splattered graffiti last year are now replaced with newer ones screaming "Freedom" and "Independence" -- words hundreds of thousands of Lebanese shouted in the streets of this city after Hariri's death and whose persistence, along with international pressure, led to the Syrian withdrawal from the country in late April after a 29-year military and intelligence presence.
Roads that were once virtually unused to avoid Syrian checkpoints and possibly trigger-happy soldiers are now back to life with reckless Lebanese driving.
Yet the most obvious change here is the open and loud criticism of the regime in Damascus, which so many here blame for Hariri's assassination and a series of other blasts that have killed prominent anti-Syrian journalists and a veteran communist leader.
The killing of Hariri, whom many Lebanese had previously blasted as being corrupt and accused him of plunging the country into billions of dollars in debts, has clearly unleashed the Lebanese anger at their former powerbrokers.
Never mind that the U.N.-appointed probe commission has yet to finalize its findings. Many have ruled out other possible perpetrators with hidden agendas of being behind what is here described as the "crime of the century."
It no longer seems to be the Feb. 14 assassination they want to avenge, but they appear as if they want to make Assad's regime pay for having repressed them for so long, for overstaying their welcome in "keeping the peace" following the civil war, and for having confiscated their rights.
Some even equate Israel's Ariel Sharon, who, as defense minister, orchestrated the bloody 1982 invasion of Lebanon, with Syria's Bashar Assad.
As one Druze woman and supporter of outspoken anti-Syrian Druze leader Walid Jumblatt told me, "there are two Ariel Sharons in the Middle East -- one in Tel Aviv and another in Damascus."
A large number of Lebanese want the regime to go, believing that as long as it remains in power across the border, it will continue to fiddle with Lebanon's security and stability, and will continue to maintain influence on its politics.
It would be an understatement to say that trying to make sense of Lebanese politics is a challenge.
With a national pact agreed to after independence from the French, the president must be a Maronite Christian, the prime minister a Sunni and the Speaker of the House a Shiite. The parliament is divided on a quota basis to ensure that all the country's ethnic and sectarian fabric is represented.
About 400,000 Palestinians, living and breeding in the country since they were forced to flee their homes in the 1948 Arab-Israeli war when the Jewish state was set up, basically have no rights and are confined to their refugee camps.
During the civil war, Christians fought Muslims, the Druze and each other; Syrians fought the Palestinians, Christians and their critics; Shiites fought the Palestinians, and everyone else fought everyone else.
Alliances shifted then and they continue to shift today.
Today, there is a pro-Syrian president, Emile Lahoud, who remains in power after the Syrians and the former pro-Syrian Parliament early last year extended his presidency for another three years.
He refuses to resign although his chief of the republican guard is one of the suspects arrested in connection with Hariri's assassination. The anti-Syrian Maronites want him out, but they want him to leave on his own, without popular pressure, so as not to threaten the "dignity" of the position held by one of their own.
A former staunch anti-Syrian Christian general, Michel Aoun, who lived in exile in Paris for 15 years and returned after the Syrian withdrawal, is now in cahoots with pro-Syrian politicians as he seems ambitious to become future president, elected by the 128-seat Parliament.
Another Christian leader, chief of the previously notorious and Israeli-allied Lebanese Forces, Samir Geagea, was recently released from the interior ministry's dungeon prisons after 11 years and is now talking sense about national unity and describing Israel as an enemy.
The previous anti-Syrian opposition is still called the "opposition" although its members hold the majority of parliament seats today and dominate the coalition government, which also includes the powerful Shiite Hezbollah group, the Shiite Amal organization and other so-called pro-Syrian parties and figures.
No wonder the government is in a crisis and the country is divided and stuck in a cycle of bickering.
Last month, five pro-Hezbollah and Amal ministers decided to suspend their participation because the majority in the government demanded an expansion of the international inquiry into other assassinations and attempts against anti-Syrians.
These ministers want to keep the issue at home to prevent American intervention they see as serving Israeli interests, especially that Washington is seeking to dismantle Hezbollah within Security Council Resolution 1559 that calls for disarming the "militias."
"Militia" is a description Hezbollah and most Lebanese reject for the Shiite organization since it is credited as a resistance group that was instrumental in ending the Israeli occupation of southern Lebanon in 2000 after a 22-year occupation.
Then there is the Syrian-allied Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine-General Command, which has a base outside the camps, and, every once in a while, fires a shot here and there, prompting an Israeli air strike, prompting another issue to deal with.
At least there seems to be a consensus that the Palestinians keep their weapons within their camps, and as soon as the government kicks off on the other issues, it will deal with the PFLP-GC issue.
Whenever there are signs the crisis is on the verge of being resolved -- an effort being done through negotiations among the different political players -- some political leader would say something that triggers the anger of another, threatening to sabotage what little hope this dialogue holds to avoid a much-dreaded return to a bloody sectarian civil war.
Dark memories of this war seem to be the obvious factors holding back the politicians in this politically divided country from escalating their confrontations.
But if you don't read the newspapers, watch television or bother discussing politics in Lebanon -- where the Lebanese love to discuss politics for hours on end -- one would not guess the country is in a messy situation that could, God forbid for its people and the Arabs who love Beirut, erupt into violence.
During the Muslim Eid al-Adha feast last week, the Paris of the Arab world was bustling with Arab tourists enjoying the lively cafés, clubs and restaurants where beautiful, half-naked women and well-dressed charming men decorated this special city.
One can only hope that the political struggle will not turn into an ugly sectarian one that will bring the hell of Iraq into the streets of a city that was rebuilt by the man whose assassination and repercussions threaten to destroy it once again.
