Zeina Musselmani and her family of nine arrived in this refugee camp of about 17,000 Palestinians seven days ago after fleeing the southern Lebanese town of Ech Chaaitiye. For two weeks, the family endured Israeli air strikes that destroyed their home and others nearby. Everyone told them to head for the nearby Palestinian camp, which they believed hadn't been attacked, even though five Israeli shells killed one person and wounded six here almost two weeks ago.

The Musselmanis and about 1,000 displaced southerners now live in a school under the protection of people who often were scorned before the latest conflict with Israel.

That's in the past, says 17-year-old Zeina. "We are all Muslim, all of us," she said with a glittering smile. "And we have the same enemy, which is Israel."

The approximately 300,000 Palestinians in Lebanon -- many of them descendents of refugees from the original 1948 exodus from British-ruled Palestine as Israel fought its war of independence -- have lived for decades in squalid camps, with little access to social services and with employment limited to menial jobs such as day labor. The United Nations gives them relief supplies. The Lebanese government sees them chiefly as a headache that won't go away, many observers say.

But now, as in other parts of the country with other sects and ethnic groups, a surprising unity has emerged in the face of Israeli attacks.

"The Palestinians are my brothers," said Yusif Ghanam, 43, of the nearby village of Ismaieyeh.

Alia Zamzam, 55, a tiny woman who practically disappears under her traditional head-covering and robe, is one of many camp residents helping displaced Lebanese. As she prepared meals for new arrivals, she spoke of families now being cared for by the camp's Palestinian Women's Organization.

"In the beginning, it was about 15 families," she said. "When they came here, they had nothing."

Zamzam estimated that the camp's supply of rice, yogurt, milk and sugar would last for only three or four more days. She and her friends have offered their own rations for the displaced.

"If there is no cease-fire, I don't think they are going to make it," said Zamzam.

Other Palestinians are taking a more bellicose view of solidarity.

"We will be partners in this victory," said Sultan Abul-Aynayn, the head of the Palestine Liberation Organization's Fatah faction in Lebanon and the boss of Rachidiye refugee camp. Should the Israelis cross the Litani River, which many Lebanese fear, he promises to fight them in the camps, as he did in 1982. "We will be part of this battle," he vowed.

He expressed admiration for Hezbollah -- and possibly even a little envy, pointing out that the Shiite militant group has financial resources and sophisticated weaponry that Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank lack.

"The people in the Palestinian camps, they see a Hezbollah victory as a victory for them as well," said Abul-Aynayn. "And they would view the failure of Hezbollah as their failure."

Other would-be warriors echoed his enthusiasm.

"We are waiting very anxiously for this (invasion)," said Abu Chawqi, a mustachioed officer in Fatah's military wing. "If we can't get to them, at least they can do us a favor and come here."

This article appeared on page A - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle