THE children crowd forward around the glass case, eager for a glimpse of the martyr's bloodstained clothes. His belt is here, and the shoes he died in, scarred with shrapnel. The battered desk where he planned military operations still has his box of pencils on it, his in-box, his mobile phone.
"May God kill the one who killed him," an old woman says, wiping tears from her eyes as she stares through the glass.
The dead man being shown such veneration is Imad Mugniyah, the shadowy Hezbollah commander. Until his death in a car bombing in S
yria in February, he was virtually unknown here, his role in the militant Shi'ite group clothed in secrecy. But since then Hezbollah has hailed him as one of its great military leaders in the struggle against Israel.
Now, the group has opened an exhibit in this southern town in honour of Mugniyah, who is widely accused in the West of masterminding devastating bombings, kidnappings and hijackings in the 1980s and 1990s. His stern, bearded face towers over the transformed parking lot where the exhibit is taking place, along with banners exalting him as "the leader of the two victories" – the Israeli withdrawal from southern Lebanon in 2000 and the 2006 summer war with Israel.
The presentation is Hezbollah's most ambitious multimedia exhibit to date, meant to dramatise the group's bitter conflict with Israel on the second anniversary of their latest war. Schoolchildren pour in throughout the day, absorbing the carefully honed message of heroic resistance. At night, light and laser shows illuminate the weaponry and tanks, and crowds have been keeping it open until after 1am.
At first glance, the exhibit could almost be taken for an outdoor children's museum. The green entrance awning is a huge replica of Mugniyah's signature cap, and visitors then pass over a "victory bridge" made partly from artillery shells. But it soon takes on a more grisly cast.
A fake skeleton stands upright in a torn uniform and helmet beneath the legend, 'The invincible Israeli soldier'. There are captured Israeli tanks jutting upward from the ground at odd angles, their hatches burned and broken. As visitors crowd from one display to another, a soundtrack blares overhead, mixing the sounds of bombs and machine-gun fire with mournful operatic voices and warlike speeches.
There is also an impressive array of Hezbollah's anti-tank missiles and artillery, all neatly labelled. There are even display cases containing the eyeglasses, letters and clothes worn by two other major Hezbollah figures, both assassinated by Israel.
But the eerie heart of the exhibit is the glass-encased room displaying Mugniyah's possessions. His prayer mat is here, his slippers, even his hairbrush, as if they were a saint's relics.
On a recent afternoon, a crowd of onlookers stared through the glass in awe, some of them weeping openly.
"Look, there's his gun," shouted a small boy dressed in army fatigues, leading his parents in for a closer look.
A young Hezbollah guide, standing nearby, explained that the gun was a modified AK-47, more powerful and capable of firing faster than the standard model. "He never went anywhere without it – it was part of his soul," said the guide, who like others working at the exhibit, declined to give his name, in accordance with Hezbollah's policy of secrecy about its members.
This is a tense moment in Lebanon. Israeli leaders have issued warnings that they would carry out a more devastating attack than the 2006 war if Hezbollah were to lead Lebanon's government. Last month, Lebanon formed a new transitional government in which the Hezbollah-led opposition has enough Cabinet seats to wield veto power. New elections are scheduled for next year.
Hezbollah officials have recently renewed warnings that they will retaliate against Israel, which they blame for Mugniyah's death. Indeed, last week, newspapers in Israel reported that intelligence agents had foiled at least five attempted kidnappings of Israeli citizens in foreign countries.
Israel has denied any role in the Mugniyah killing, which took place in Damascus, the Syrian capital. But Israeli and Western agents had spent 25 years pursuing Mugniyah, who was blamed for the suicide bombing of a US Marines barracks in Beirut that killed 241 American servicemen in 1983.
"I came here to teach my kids the culture of resistance," said a visitor who gave his name only as Ahmed, as he stood with his wife and two children. "I want them to see what the enemy is doing to us, and what we can do to fight them, because this enemy is not merciful."
The full article contains 771 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
