Lebanon, everyone keeps on telling me, is a complex country. I can easily believe it. The road signs, hangovers from colonial times, are in French and Arabic (marking streets as military sectors with numbers rather then names).

The people speak French as readily as they speak Arabic. Drive through south Beruit or southern Lebanon - Hizb Allah strongholds - and you will see women dressed as if they have come straight from the French riviera talking to mohajjabat (women who wear the hijab or Islamic headscarf.)

Alongside Shi'a and Sunni Muslims you will see Christians and Druze. "Here in the Middle East" a journalist friend told me yesterday "we have had multi-culturism for many many years - it is not a new phenomenon, like in Europe." But, of course, the picture is not so simple as all that.

Lebanon still has many old wounds from the time of the civil war - when the Palestinian Liberation Organisation fought against Phalangist Lebanese Christians. Then toss the Israeli occupation (borne out of a desire to fight the PLO and allied with the Christians) and also Hizb Allah's resistance to it into the mix and you begin to get a sense of how many players, agendas and actors are here trying to upset whatever delicate balance exists in this tiny country.

And some balance did exist - we have all heard how Lebanon had begun to transform itself (despite governmental corruption and old sectarian feelings) - that is why this most recent wound is even more difficult to accept. In untouched downtown Beruit the dusty stone of the buildings [in an area where tourists would once have sat in the French style street cafes] is a testimony to economic recovery.

But Israel's recent war has halted that. An Israeli general said during the war that Israel would send Lebanon back 20 years - and they have. The Israeli military carried out an intensive bombardment of south Lebanon, southern Beruit, the Bekka Valley (to the east) and the north of Lebanon. They also launched a massive ground incursion accross the south. But, by now, this should all be old news.

In the midst of all of this - destroyed roads, bridges, villages, towns and lives - organisations like Trocaire's partner Caritas Lebanon responded to help those who were affected by the war (irrespective of creed). Almost a thousand volunteers accross Lebanon delivered food packages, and water to isolated families and communities.

Stand at a high vantage point in hilly Beruit and it is almost impossible to imagine what it must have been like during the bombardment. However, drive into the heart of south Beruit and it becomes impossible to imagine what it looked like before.

I can not begin to estimate the scale of the destruction wreaked in these areas - or in villages such as Bint Jbael in south Lebanon.

The Israeli bulldozers have left these areas - now the bulldozers of Hizb Allah and the Lebanese government are dragging the slabs of rubble and dumping them - to be delivered to an unknown elsewhere. The dust of destruction clings to the humid air.

At certain street junctions men with walkie-talkies stand barring entrance to anyone who is not known - we are certain they are Hizb Allah. We see other men in Hizb Allah bibs and baseball caps walking from the doors of the few high-rise apartments which are still standing. It is not clear what they are doing but their clipboards and pens give them a sense of authority.

People have returned back to find their homes, their offices - the spaces that filled their lives - have been destroyed. My stomach is sick of such wanton destruction. Metal spines of buildings twist into the air from the rubble.

My words lie in ruins like the buildings around me. This is extensive. This is appalling. This is upsetting. Exactly which adjective is appropriate?

Here in Beruit's Ground Zero , there is none.