A market in the Shatila refugee camp near Beirut. A new wave of refugees from Syria and its civil war has swollen the population of Lebanon's 12 official Palestinian refugee camps. Credit:New York Times The Cairo Agreement of 1969 first created a situation where the Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon were policed internally by the militias of the various factions in Palestinian political life, on the understanding that those militias would not contest the Lebanese state's power beyond the camps. It is an arrangement that has broken down many times, most infamously during the war that destroyed Lebanon between 1975 and 1990, but now it is again being relied upon.

Munir al-Makdah is the leader of the camp's Fatah faction as well as the head of the al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades, whose fighters make up a significant number of the camp's security force. On Thursday he was appointed chief commander of the Palestinian Security Force in Lebanon. Fairfax Media met him in his compound inside Ain al-Hilweh, armed men at the gate and several grandchildren at his knee. He insists camp leaders, as well as the 250-strong multi-faction security force, are dedicated to ensuring Palestinians are "not involved with what is happening in Syria". "We are trying to embrace the youth to try and keep them away from the militants and the drugs," he says. No one, he adds, wants a repeat of the deadly clashes between the Lebanese Army and Islamists in the Nahr al-Bared refugee camp in the north of Lebanon in 2007 that left hundreds dead and the camp razed.

Fatah commander Munir al-Makdah with weapons at his home in Ain al-Hilweh. Credit:Bloomberg "We've built up a strong relationship with the Lebanese military and political parties . . . to work with them to ensure the camp is secure and stable." As well as the joint security force, civil society organisations are helping residents to deal with the ongoing economic struggle that comes with such high rates of unemployment. Smoke and fire rise from the besieged Palestinian Nahr al-Bared refugee camp near Tripoli in northern Lebanon in 2007 after it was bombarded by Lebanese forces. Credit:AFP Makdah speaks with a quiet pragmatism about the potential for young Palestinian men from the camps to get drawn into the Syrian conflict to fight for Nusra or IS. So far 52 have been lost to those battlegrounds, he says.

Unlike others interviewed for this story, Makdah willingly discusses what drew those young men and others like them to the two major jihadist groups. Aged between 17 and 20, they came from most of the 12 different Palestinian refugee camps around Lebanon. The hardship and boredom that comes with such high rates of unemployment left them vulnerable, he says. 'The Syrian fight is not our fight': Munir al-Makdah at his home in Ain al-Hilweh. Credit:Bloomberg "Most of them died in Syria, most fighting with Nusra," he says. "They were young men with their headphones on, following people on social media, focused on their computers – suddenly, they leave their homes." What he doesn't reveal is that one of his sons, then 18, reportedly tried to sneak into Syria in 2013 with four of his friends. They were caught by the Shiite Islamist group Hezbollah and sent back to the camp. Palestinian residents flee the Nahr al-Bared camp in May 2007. Credit:Reuters

It is vital that Palestinians do not get drawn into the Syrian conflict, Makdah says, regardless of the challenges and restrictions they face as long-term refugees. "We have 60 per cent of European countries supporting Palestine – this is unprecedented – and we must continue to fight for Palestine and for our land, which is disappearing under Israeli occupation. The Syrian fight is not our fight." Fairfax Media contacted several families from a number of different refugee camps whose sons had fought in Syria. Only one family was prepared to talk, expressing hurt and bewilderment at their son's sudden disappearance and helplessness when he returned, just as suddenly, months later, silent and in shock at what he had seen. Lebanese Army soldiers in position outside a cafe in Jabal Mohsen, a district of the northern city of Tripoli, that was targeted in a suicide bombing in January. Credit:Reuters For his part, the 21-year-old denies he was ever fighting in Syria. "Most probably he was fighting in the Qalamoun Mountains [that form part of the border between Lebanon and Syria]," his father says. "When he came back he was shocked, he would not disclose where he had been . . . but we know that many young men like him died in battle there." Ever since his return, he has been under heavy surveillance from the Lebanese military, his father says.

Just days after our visit to the camps, a young man called Mohamed Mabroukah from the Ain al-Hilweh camp was named as a martyr by IS. He had died in a suicide attack in Iraq on January 15, the notice read. Built - as all Palestinian refugee camps were - as temporary accommodation for some of the 750,000 Palestinians who fled or were forced from their homes during the 1948 war over the establishment of the state of Israel, Ain al-Hilweh is now a tangled maze of narrow streets, low-hanging wires and overcrowded grey buildings. It is a tightly-packed, 1.5-square kilometre neighbourhood almost entirely lacking in hope.



"The cell of Shadi Mawlawi and Osama Mansour have found refuge in this camp . . . it has created a totally new dynamic," says Mario Abou Zeid, a research analyst at the Carnegie Middle East Centre. Mawlawi is wanted for his alleged links to the perpetrators of the January 10 suicide bombings in Jabal Mohsen in the northern city of Tripoli that killed nine people and wounded more than 30, and also over his connection to a series of bomb plots last year that were uncovered by the Lebanese Army. "In addition you have the leadership of other radical movements trying to find a safe haven here, and they have started to recruit and train," Abou Zeid says. The Palestinian groups responsible for the camps "do not have a full control of these radical groups", he adds.



Having a cell inside Ain al-Hilweh, which sits next to the southern port city of Sidon, provides a potential gateway to the south for Nusra supporters, Abou Zeid says.



Elias Hanna, a retired general who now teaches strategy and geopolitics at the American University of Beirut, says while Ain al-Hilweh may be "a safe haven today" for militants like Mawlawi, it does not pose an "existential threat to Lebanon".



"He [Mawlawi] is not any more a major player – he is in hiding, he doesn't have freedom of movement, he could provide logistics but not as before," General Hanna says. "OK, he can recruit, but recruitment is not an ad hoc, one-time issue, it is a process, if he wants to recruit and really mobilise people it will take a bit of time."



After the Jabal Mohsen suicide bombings in January, the Ministry of Interior shut down the radical wing of Roumieh Prison and broke up terror cells in Tripoli, he says. In response to the raid on the so-called "terror block" of Roumieh Prison, Nusra warned on its Twitter account that all Lebanese would pay the price for the Army's "reckless acts".



"Saudi Arabia is in favour of these actions … it indicates that there is a clear decision from the Ministry to finish [Nusra and IS] in Lebanon," General Hanna says.



But despite this optimism, Palestinian security forces have so far been unable to arrest Mawlawi or other militants inside the camp. While they remain, the ingredients are in place for the security situation to deteriorate – fast.