When the first of seven Israeli bombs detonated in south Beirut on Wednesday afternoon, six soldiers of the Lebanese Army were the first to flee. They had been standing around at a temporary cemetery where 41 victims of a bombing attack were about to be buried.

After the bombs hit, the six men rushed down the street in their two Jeeps, passing other vehicles and loudly honking their horns -- clearly in a hurry to return to the northern sections of the Lebanese capital.

By the time the soldiers had presumably reached downtown Beirut, considered safe against Israeli bombs, Hezbollah officials were still organizing the orderly departure of the funeral guests. The officials, all young men wearing jeans and T-shirts, could only be identified as members of Sheikh Hassan Nasrallah's forces by the bulges on the sides of their trousers, evidence of the radios and pistols they were carrying. Instead of fleeing, they made a show of being unafraid of Israel's bombs. "Stay here," one of them shouted into my ear over the sound of the next detonation, "Allah will protect us. After all, we are at a funeral."

When asked about the Lebanese Army soldiers, young Hezbollah fighters at the site suddenly developed a talent for irony. "Well," said Hassan, "they do their job and we do ours." And what is this job? "You have to look at it this way," said the young man, with a big grin on his face, "the military is something like the police here, while we are protecting our country against Israel." Then one of his superiors appeared and pulled him back, apologizing that only Hezbollah spokesmen are authorized to give statements to the press. He handed me a mobile phone number.

Nasrallah's reaction is feeding doubts

The Lebanese Army, for which the men of Hezbollah have nothing but derision, is at the center of many conversations these days. Since the government in Beirut wholeheartedly proposed that its own military should secure a buffer zone between Hezbollah and Israel, the idea has gained support in many quarters. Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert called the proposal "interesting," his foreign minister said she was "pleased" to hear about it, and even Hezbollah leader Sheikh Hassan Nasrallah seemed open to the idea. It appeared as if an agreement was in the making.

But Nasrallah's comments, in particular, raised doubts about the seemingly brilliant idea. Western diplomats quickly deduced the militia leader's true motives. "Nasrallah knows that the army is in a very weak position compared to his militias, and to some extent may even have been infiltrated by his fighters," says a European envoy, "which explains why he would be so pleased to hear about their possible deployment." In reality, however, a mission without international support, says the envoy, would be completely unthinkable.

Throughout this war, the Lebanese Army has only made it into the headlines when its troops inadvertently ended up between the two fronts. Despite grandiose announcements from Beirut that Lebanon would not permit an Israeli invasion of its south, the country's troops have played no role in the conflict so far. Israel has only encountered resistance from Hezbollah, while the Lebanese Army has stayed put on its few military bases. Indeed, after four weeks of war, the only news the military's Web site can report is about soldiers being killed almost daily during enemy air attacks on army bases in the south.

Any force deployed in the south, be it local or international, will not face an easy task. Hezbollah has spent the last six years literally digging itself into the region's mountainous terrain. Bunker systems, weapons caches and small, camouflaged positions will have to be found and destroyed. Even if Hezbollah ultimately agrees to withdraw from the south, which some observers say is at least possible, judging by Nasrallah's most recent statements, the force deployed there will have a long and difficult job to do.

And if Nasrallah's fighters won't go voluntarily, the protective force will have to deal with the same type of guerilla warfare the Israelis already face today. That is something for which the Lebanese Army is poorly equipped. According to observers, the army numbers about 72,000 troops, while Israeli sources estimate its numbers at 61,000. Officials in Beirut have been unwilling to provide figures in recent days.

Ministry officials have only stressed, repeatedly, that the 15,000 troops for the protective force are almost ready for deployment.

The past as the most convincing argument

The equipment Lebanese soldiers will use to perform their duties is outdated, in some cases even dating back to the 1950s and 60s. Many of the army's 300 tanks are more than 20 years old, and its artillery doesn't pack much of a punch. Military officials concede that they currently lack even a single serviceable combat jet. The navy has been sailing more or less blindly since Israel's air force disabled its radar systems. Besides, the few ships it has stationed in the south are more or less ineffective. Indeed, many doubt that the Lebanese military will have much of an effect at all.

Israel has already made it clear that it will not agree to the deployment of an exclusively Lebanese military force to secure a buffer zone in southern Lebanon. The Olmert government's strongest argument is Israel's experience in the recent past. Despite a 2004 United Nations resolution that calls for the Lebanese army to patrol the south, Hezbollah has been expanding its dominant position since the Israeli withdrawal in 2000. No one expects Lebanese security forces to be capable of controlling or disarming Hezbollah's fighters.

What's more, Israel sees the Lebanese army itself as a risk. Despite having been trained by American and French officers, the army represents a cross-section of Lebanese society. About 50 percent of its soldiers are Shiites and many are likely supporters of Hezbollah, both in their hearts and at the polls. It seems highly unlikely that such a force will be take a tough stance against Sheikh Nasrallah's fighters.