A man from Al-Ghad films the meeting. It’s a precaution, a party official explains — in case agents provocateurs stage an incident or the government accuses Nour of saying things he has not said. “This is the only place in the constituency where we are allowed to meet,” said Nour’s wife, Gamila. “And we are having so many problems with infiltrators.”

As a step toward reform, Mubarak has agreed that more than one candidate can contest the presidential election due in the autumn. Parliament, dominated by Mubarak supporters, Tuesday overwhelmingly agreed to the necessary constitutional changes, but the new rules, which have to be approved in a yes/no referendum, create major obstacles for opposition candidates.

Parties with more than 5 percent of parliamentary seats will be able to nominate candidates, but this would rule out all the current opposition parties. Opposition members said it set impossible conditions for independents wanting to stand for election. Even recognized parties would be unable to field candidates after this year’s elections, they claimed.

Independent candidates would need 300 signatures supporting their nomination, including 65 from M.P.’s, 25 from members of the consultative council and 10 from local councilors in each of 14 provinces — a hurdle that Nour may have difficulty surmounting.

President Mubarak says he has still not decided whether to seek a fifth six-year term, but despite his age — 77 — and doubts about his health, he is widely expected to do so. Many believe he is trying to contrive an election that will pit him against a bland no-hoper from one of the tamer opposition parties.

One self-declared candidate, feminist writer Nawal el-Saadawi, said last week she had been forced to abandon a meeting after police threatened to arrest the organizers. Another candidate has been denounced as a “foreign agent” and says people have been warned not to attend his meetings.

President Mubarak, meanwhile, has been hogging the limelight with a seven-hour television interview, spread over three nights. In a speech last week, he told Egyptians: “We all have to join forces to defend the future of our democratic process.”

The trouble with Nour, from the president’s point of view, is that he will put up a lively fight even if he has little chance of winning. A 40-year-old lawyer and journalist with a glamorous TV presenter wife, he has a populist touch that has earned him support among the poorer Cairenes. Earlier this year he spent several weeks in jail on what he says were trumped-up charges of forging signatures for his party’s registration papers. He was released after pressure from the United States, but the case, which is still to be heard by the courts, could provide yet another excuse to disqualify him.

Nobody doubts President Mubarak’s ability to be reelected, but the real issue is whether his regime is serious about opening up the political system. “Mubarak would win against any candidate you could imagine,” said a Western diplomat. “The question will be under what circumstances — how much freedom he is going to allow and what sort of rules he is going to put in place for the next elections.”

Egyptian democracy at present is a very thin veneer. Electoral fraud is the norm, while opposition parties operate only with the consent of the government and lack the resources to compete with Mubarak’s National Democratic Party, which has monopolized the political scene for years. But now cracks are appearing.

It started with demonstrations by Kifaya (“Enough”), a loose alliance of pro-reform groups. Specifically, Kifaya has had enough of President Mubarak, but its name also echoes the frustrations that many Egyptians feel in other areas.

Last month there was a revolt by more than 1,000 judges who threatened not to help oversee this year’s elections unless they were given full control over the process. “We won’t allow anyone to accuse us of being part of rigging elections,” the secretary-general of the Cairo judges’ club told the press.

At Cairo University about 200 professors staged a demonstration in protest at academic meddling by the state. Smaller protests were held at several other universities. “Students demonstrate every year, but professors are not always demonstrating,” said the Western diplomat. “People are fighting on a lot of fronts.”

The press has also become more outspoken, even though editors are appointed or dismissed at the behest of the government. “You can read in Al-Ahram [the semiofficial daily] things you could not imagine reading two years ago,” said Ahmed Seif al-Islam, a lawyer and supporter of Kifaya.

So far, there have been no protests on the scale seen recently in Lebanon. The only group capable of mustering large numbers on the streets is the banned Muslim Brotherhood. Significantly, it has shifted the focus of its protests from international concerns to domestic issues and is calling for wholesale reform. It claims that 10,000 people took part in demonstrations around the country on May 6. Several hundred people were arrested and one man died when security forces used tear gas.

In a speech last weekend, President Bush once again talked of spreading democracy in the Middle East and said the Egyptian presidential election “should proceed with international monitors, and with rules that allow for a real campaign.” There are many in Cairo, though, probably including President Mubarak, who doubt that Bush will press the issue as hard as he did in Lebanon. Egypt is an important U.S. ally in the region, they say, and the last thing Washington wants is to enhance the power of the Muslim Brotherhood.

As the withdrawal neared completion, Maj. Gen. Jamil Sayyed, the powerful Lebanese security chief, announced his resignation after local press reports said he was about to be reprimanded for insubordination by the newly appointed interior minister. Gen. Sayyed stepped aside last week, supposedly temporarily, to “facilitate” a U.N. investigation into the assassination of the former Prime Minister Rafik Hariri. He has denied claims that he was involved in the killing.

Gen. Sayyed is one of seven pro-Syrian officials whose resignations have been demanded by the Lebanese opposition. Of the others, Ali al-Hajj, head of internal security, put himself “at the disposal” of the prime minister last week. A third, Raymond Azar, the head of military intelligence, has left Lebanon for what was described as a “mission” in Paris.

Syria sent its troops into Lebanon in 1976 and has maintained political hegemony over the country since its civil war ended in 1990. By early this year it had already reduced its forces from a peak of about 40,000 five years ago to about 14,000.

Last September, when Damascus leaned heavily on the Lebanese Parliament to extend the term of Syrian-backed President Emil Lahoud, the U.N. Security Council responded with Resolution 1559, calling for an end to Syria’s interference, including a total withdrawal of its forces.

Pressure on Damascus intensified following Hariri’s death in a huge explosion on Feb. 14 — an act widely blamed on Syria or its Lebanese allies. Faced with mass demonstrations in Beirut and international calls for a speedy withdrawal, Syria had little option but to pull its forces out. Anxious to save face, Damascus has sought to portray its withdrawal as implementation of the 1989 Taif accord that ended the Lebanese civil war.

Tuesday’s ceremony is likely to provide Syria with more face-saving spin and may also distract some attention from a U.N. report, due to be delivered Tuesday by Kofi Annan, on the extent of Syrian compliance with Resolution 1559.

Syrian influence helped to bring stability to Lebanon in the aftermath of the 15-year civil war but has become increasingly unpopular with many Lebanese. Last year, when Damascus forced the Lebanese Parliament to extend the term of Emile Lahoud, the Syrian-backed president, the Security Council approved Resolution 1559, calling for all foreign forces to leave the country.

Demands for Syria to comply increased dramatically after the assassination of Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri on Feb. 14 — an act widely blamed on Syria or its Lebanese allies.

To save face, Syria has been seeking to portray its withdrawal as a phased fulfillment of the 1989 Taif accord, which ended the Lebanese civil war, rather than as a submission to international pressure. Last month, it pulled back its forces from western parts of Lebanon to the Bekaa Valley in the east. About 6,000 of the 14,000 troops who were in the country when the process began are thought to have returned to Syria.

The United States has been pressing Damascus to pull out its forces and intelligence agents before the end of this month so that Lebanese parliamentary elections, which are due to be spread over several weeks in May, can take place without interference. In previous elections, Syria has played a major role in selecting candidates. However, the elections now look almost certain to be delayed because Lebanon has no effective government to organize them.

The Syrian-backed government of Omar Karami resigned on Feb. 28 amid mass demonstrations, but 10 days later President Emile Lahoud, another ally of Syria, reappointed him as prime minister designate. After failing to form a new government Karami said he would step down, but so far he has not done so. The opposition has accused him of procrastinating to delay the elections. Karami blames the opposition for refusing to join him in a unity government.

The interim government in Beirut is likely to accept a U.N. team to verify Syria’s withdrawal if advised to do so by Damascus. Even without a formal presence, Syria would still be able to exert influence — especially through its allies in the Lebanese security services. The Lebanese opposition is demanding the resignations of several key security officials, but so far only the chief of military intelligence has gone.

The balance of evidence appears to point to the explosion having been caused by a bomb under the road — a method that some analysts are suggesting points conclusively to Syrian involvement. In Beirut, though, the pro-Syrian authorities prefer to focus on a possible Islamist connection, in particular a white van that was captured on the closed-circuit television cameras of a nearby bank. Another camera, at the Phoenicia Hotel, which might have had a better view of what happened, went out of service a couple of weeks before the blast and repairing it proved unusually difficult.

The Lebanese have been reluctant investigators from the start. Syrian-backed President Emile Lahoud was eager to fill in the bomb site, reasphalt the road and get the diverted traffic moving again as soon as possible. It was only when the Interior Ministry intervened that he had second thoughts.

The U.N. report may also give the first official indications of whether the Lebanese tried to cover up what happened. In the absence of hard information, theories about what happened have been highly politicized, with the pro-Syrians advocating an Islamist car bomb, while the anti-Syrian opposition suspects a meticulously prepared underground explosion.

There are several pointers to a bomb placed under the road. One is that workmen dug a hole there a few days before. Another is that the blast appears to have traveled along the sewers, damaging pipework in a building nearby. Whatever the actual method, making a bomb to kill Hariri needed careful planning and a lot of expertise.

His Mercedes was similar to one that had ensured the survival of Pervez Musharraf, the Pakistani president, in a bomb attack. It was heavily armored with a titanium-steel alloy and also had an electronic jamming system designed to frustrate a remote-controlled detonation as well as disable mobile phones in the area.

Theories circulating in Beirut are that an underground bomb must have been triggered by wire from nearby, or alternatively that Hariri’s electronic defenses were sabotaged so that the bomb could be triggered remotely.

In accordance with security advice, Hariri varied the routes of his journeys in the city, but there were only a limited number of roads he could choose. Normally he would pass the assassination spot once or twice in a fortnight, an associate said. If the bomb was indeed planted underground, it was only a matter of watching and waiting.

Shortly after noon on Feb. 14, Najib Friji, the U.N.’s press spokesman in Beirut, was meeting in the Place de l’Etoile cafe with a few Arab journalists to talk about a forthcoming visit to the region by Terje Roed Larsen, the U.N. envoy charged with trying to implement Security Council Resolution 1559, aimed at ending Syrian influence in Lebanon. Hariri, who had been in the Parliament building nearby, joined the discussion, bantering with the journalists. Five minutes after leaving the cafe he was dead.

Hariri had not always been an enemy of Damascus. As prime minister, he had found ways of coexisting with the unwelcome Syrian influence. He sometimes extended his financial largess to Syrian officials, and he got on well with the Syrian vice president, Abdel-Halim Khaddam. After his death, Khaddam — a fellow Sunni Muslim — visited Beirut to pay respects to Hariri’s family, but avoided the funeral for fear of being lynched.

Sometime last year, Hariri’s patience with Syria finally snapped. The moment was probably last August when he had an “inspiration” — the Lebanese euphemism for a summons to Damascus — and was told that the presidential term of Lahoud, which was due to expire in November, had to be extended. Hariri was furious, but decided to play along, voting in Parliament for a constitutional amendment that gave Lahoud three more years in office.

Just 24 hours before the parliamentary vote in Beirut, however, the U.N. Security Council approved Resolution 1559, which called for all foreign troops to leave Lebanon. The Syrians were convinced that Hariri had instigated 1559 by way of revenge — and they may have been right in that. He was a close friend of French President Jacques Chirac, and France, along with the United States, was the main driving force behind the resolution.

By now, Hariri was moving more and more into the anti-Syrian camp. With parliamentary elections scheduled for May, he had also made another fateful decision. By long-established custom, Lebanese political groupings were expected to accept Syrian-approved candidates on their electoral lists, but Hariri had decided that this time he not only would refuse to accept them but also would encourage other groups to do the same.

As far as Damascus was concerned, his defiance had gone much too far, and he began to receive warnings from various quarters that his life was in danger, along with that of Walid Jumblatt, the anti-Syrian Druze leader.

Hariri and Jumblatt met urgently to discuss what they should do. To ensure the survival of the Lebanese opposition, they agreed that one of them had to leave the country. Jumblatt offered to stay behind on the grounds that he was more dispensable, but for Hariri it was already too late to escape.

Two hours before the official start of the protest — called to mark the moment a month earlier when former Prime Minister Rafik al-Hariri was assassinated — Martyrs Square was packed with people and Lebanese flags.

Many of the flags were attached to broom handles, others rose above the crowds on the ends of fishing rods, and one demonstrator flew a kite with a flag attached. Among the placards were many that read: “100 Percent Lebanese” or “United Colors of Lebanon.”

Before long, the crowds spilled over from Martyrs Square and began filling the nearby Riad al-Solh Square, where Hezbollah’s demonstration was held last week. As the rally began, half a mile from its center motorists in cars decorated with flags and pictures of Hariri were still edging through crowded streets looking for a place to park. Across town, the normally bustling Hamra district was ghostly, with almost all the shops closed and a few straggling demonstrators with flags.

For a country with a population of only 3.5 million, the scale of the recent protests has been unprecedented, raising fears about how long they will remain peaceful.

In a sermon on Sunday, the Maronite (Christian) patriarch warned: “If shows of force continue in the streets, no one knows where this will lead us to, and this is what spiteful people are looking for.”

Syrian-backed President Emile Lahoud has also been trying to dampen the fervor of street protests.

In Sidon, 25 miles south of the capital, Hezbollah and the opposition agreed to call off rival demonstrations after meetings over the weekend, the Beirut-based Daily Star reported Monday.

Syria’s military withdrawal continued Monday, with intelligence agents closing offices in the northern towns of Amyoun and Deir Ammar, on the coastal road between the port city of Tripoli and the Syrian border. Intelligence agents also dismantled two checkpoints in the Akkar area. More than 70 agents are believed to have left.

The number of Syrian troops in Lebanon is now 10,000, after the departure of 4,000 over the past week. A Lebanese security source told Reuters the Syrian forces were expected to complete the first phase of a two-stage pullout in the next two or three days.

The presence of Syrian intelligence agents, who have wielded influence over many aspects of life in Lebanon, is generally of more concern to the Lebanese than the troops, whose role has been largely symbolic. The agents’ complete withdrawal may prove more difficult to confirm, however.

Controversial former Lebanese Prime Minister Michel Aoun announced Monday that he would return from exile “in the next weeks.” Speaking at a news conference in Paris, Gen. Aoun, a Christian who has organized anti-Syrian agitation from France, said he would set his return date after a timetable for a complete Syrian withdrawal was announced. He said he would go back to Lebanon with Edgar Maalouf and Issam Abu Jamra, who were part of a military government he formed in 1988.