BEIRUT — Last month’s bloody gun battle in the streets of a heavily populated Beirut neighborhood may have been triggered by an individual incident; its sectarian dimension, however, has once again highlighted the underlying battle of two currents – two visions of Lebanon that have been tearing the country apart for the last four years.

Last month, street battles involving automatic weapons and rocket-propelled grenades rattled Bourj Abi Haidar, a crowded Beirut suburb inhabited by both Sunni and Shi’a communities. The confrontation, triggered by a fight over parking space, pitted supporters of Hizbullah against those of Al-Ahbash – a radical Sunni group – and left three dead.

“A governing system based on consensus among warring religious sects can’t prevail much longer in such a heated regional context. The country will eventually need to define its identity and agree on the nature of its enemies,” says Nadim Mohsen, political science and philosophy professor at the Lebanese American University (LAU).

Since 2008, all the sects and political factions have been represented by a so-called “unity government,” which was formed after three years of political instability and deep-rooted divisions in the wake of the 2005 assassination of former prime minister Rafik Hariri.

The ruling March 14 coalition, named after the massive anti-Syrian rally held on that date in 2005, is led by Saad al-Hariri, younger son of the former PM and is dominated by the Sunni Future movement. It has repeatedly demanded an investigation into the murder of Hariri, and an international tribunal was established shortly after his death.

The opposition March 8 faction, which is generally regarded as pro-Syrian, is spearheaded by the Hizbullah. It has criticized the tribunal, calling it a political tool against their organization after rumors spread of possible indictment of Hizbullah members. March 8 has also refused to discuss disarmament which they claim is another attempt to weaken the party.

The clashes have once again jeopardized the precarious peace now reigning over Lebanon. “The street battles have nothing to do with the tribunal. Everyone agrees on uncovering the truth about the Hariri murder,” says the Sunni owner of a jewelry store in Bourj Abi Haidar, who spoke on condition of anonymity. “It has, however, everything to do with Hizbullah being the only faction overly armed in Lebanon. I do not feel safe any more. Last week, my neighbor shot down my store’s banner,” he complains as he points to his holstered gun, which he has been carrying for over a week.

Many of his neighbors share this sentiment. “The weapons held by both parties are endangering the city,” says Ariss, another Sunni merchant.

On the other side of the street, members of the Shi’a community deny any sectarian dimension to the recent violence. Many believe that the clashes were blown out of proportion to force the issue of disarmament on the Hizbullah.

“The real problem resides in the fact that the government is being pushed into supporting the tribunal at whatever cost. This is very dangerous for us and especially for Hizbullah,” says Mohammad, another Shi’a resident of the area.

His neighbor, Naim Rizk, head of the jewelry association, says that the rift had no religious or political dimensions. He underlines that it was a fight between political allies, since both factions are pro-Syrian.

“It is true, however, that people in Beirut do not understand how important the arms of the resistance are to us southerners. We never felt secure until 2000, when Hizbullah put an end to the Israeli occupation of South Lebanon,” he explains.

According to Mohsen, Lebanese history is peppered with such dichotomies, contradictions that have left the country treading dangerous waters. The first dispute started with Lebanon’s independence and whether or not the country should be integrated with greater Syria. During the 1975-1990 Civil War the country was split in two once again, this time over the Palestinian cause.

“The coexistence of various religious communities has always been considered a Lebanese strength due to its multi-confessional (tolerant of many religions) aspect and the openness it has generated. However, it is also perceived as a weakness,” admits sociologist Talal Atrissi.

Unfortunately, says the professor, it also means that communities tend to coalesce around their leaders regardless of the validity of their political decisions. “This implies that every community has different enemies; it is essential that we agree on one,” he emphasizes.

But for Mohsen, a happy consensus around Lebanon’s two visions is very difficult, if not impossible, to achieve. “For peace to become sustainable, one vision will have to prevail over the other.”