Marwan Hamadeh to Asharq Al-Awsat: Rifaat Assad Mocked His Brother, Called for Partition of Lebanon, Syria

Marwan Hamadeh speaks to Asharq Al-Awsat. (Aasharq Al-Awsat)
Marwan Hamadeh speaks to Asharq Al-Awsat. (Aasharq Al-Awsat)
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Marwan Hamadeh to Asharq Al-Awsat: Rifaat Assad Mocked His Brother, Called for Partition of Lebanon, Syria

Marwan Hamadeh speaks to Asharq Al-Awsat. (Aasharq Al-Awsat)
Marwan Hamadeh speaks to Asharq Al-Awsat. (Aasharq Al-Awsat)

Hafez al-Assad did not settle for ruling Syria with an iron grip—he also sought to control Lebanon, and he got his way.

Throughout the 1980s, there was frequent talk of a second power center in Syria, represented by Rifaat al-Assad, the president’s brother and rival.

Speaking to Asharq Al-Awsat, former Lebanese lawmaker and minister Marwan Hamadeh recounts how Rifaat advocated for dividing Syria and Lebanon into sectarian mini-states and shifting alliances from the Soviet Union to the United States and Israel.

“Rifaat was ultimately exiled, but he remained untouchable. They let him leave, taking with him a trove of secrets and betrayals—betrayals against everyone, including his own brother, Hafez. Didn’t he attempt a power grab in 1983?”

“He took advantage of Hafez al-Assad’s illness and hospitalization, deploying tanks and his forces. He commanded a faction much like the sectarian and ideological militias that function as parallel armies,” said Hamadeh when asked about Rifaat.

“Dealing with Hafez al-Assad was inevitable—Lebanon shares borders with both Syria and Israel, and Syria was our gateway to the Arab world. We went to Hafez, but we never imagined we would encounter Rifaat, the man widely believed—along with Air Force Intelligence chief Mohammed al-Khouly—to have orchestrated the assassination of Kamal Jumblatt,” he added.

President Hafez al-Assad and his brother Rifaat in January 1984. (AFP file)

‘You look so much like your father’

“One day in 1983, Rifaat invited us to dinner at a villa in Eastern Mezzeh, not far from the notorious Mezzeh prison. Walid Jumblatt (son of Kamal Jumblatt) and I were stunned. How could we accept the invitation? And how could we refuse? At the time, we were in exile in Damascus during the Mountain War against the Lebanese Forces. As the saying goes, it was an offer we couldn’t refuse. We decided to go but remained extremely cautious,” Hamadeh recounted.

“The atmosphere felt more like a tavern than a formal gathering. Rifaat was heavily intoxicated but spoke freely, rambling without pause. We were eager for the evening to end when he suddenly said, ‘I have some advice for you.’”

According to Hamadeh, Rifaat proceeded and said: “You’re aligning yourselves with my brother, Hafez. That means you’re on the side of the Soviets, against America, and fighting Israel through the national resistance. But why bother? Go strike a deal with the Maronites—give them part of Mount Lebanon, take the southern part for yourselves, and establish your own state. My brother is a fool. We Alawites have the best region—mountains, coastline. We’ll set up our own state there, without all this nonsense. We’ll reconcile with the Americans, sign a peace deal with Israel, and move forward.”

After Rifaat concluded his statement, Hamadeh and Walid nudged each other under the table.

“We knew better than to react—positively or negatively. In Damascus, whether you were in a villa or a hotel, you could be certain that everything was recorded, every word monitored. We said nothing. We finished dinner and left, unharmed—or so we believed. I doubt Rifaat managed to extract anything from us, and I don’t think Hafez’s security services got anything either,” Hamadeh remarked.

Forty days after Kamal Jumblatt’s assassination in 1977, Walid traveled to Damascus to meet Hafez al-Assad, who reportedly told him, “You look so much like your father.”

When asked if the account was true, Hamadeh confirmed.

“The massacre that followed Kamal Jumblatt’s assassination, which targeted Christian civilians in the Chouf, also struck Christian Jumblatt supporters—those who considered themselves leftist or came from families aligned with the Jumblatt camp in the historic Druze rivalry between the Jumblatt and Yazbaki factions. Walid was furious when he realized the killings had reached these communities. He rushed from village to village alongside the Druze spiritual leader, trying to stop the bloodshed. It deeply affected him. He felt he had not only inherited his father’s murder but had also walked into a conspiracy designed to drive an irreversible wedge between the Druze and Christians,” recalled Hamadeh.

“Investigations later revealed the identities of the Syrian operatives behind the assassination. A respected judge from Sidon, Hassan al-Qawas, conducted a thorough probe—his findings remain locked away in Walid Jumblatt’s personal safe and in Lebanon’s Justice Palace, but no action was ever taken against the killers,” he added.

‘Larger conspiracy’

As per Hamadeh, the inquiry found that four Syrian intelligence officers hijacked a Christian man’s car. He escaped and reached Baakline, where he revealed the assassins’ escape route. They had fled toward Jdeideh, in the outskirts of Beirut.

The operation was carried out by Syrian intelligence under the command of Maj. Ibrahim Hweiji, who reported to al-Khouly. The details of the murder became clear.

Walid then gathered his party members and senior Druze clerics, telling them: “I know who killed my father. You know that I know. And I know that you know.”

But he warned them that a larger conspiracy was at play—one aimed at driving the Arab presence out of Mount Lebanon and dismantling the Druze stronghold, either by forcing them into exile in southern Syria’s Jabal al-Arab or pushing them into the sea.

“I cannot let this happen,” Walid told them. “I will go to Syria—it is our only Arab gateway, the only Arab route. I will not turn to Israel, and I refuse to be cast into the sea,” he added.

When he arrived in Damascus, Hafez received him with remarkable courtesy—whether genuine or laced with deception was unclear. The Syrian leader feigned surprise at what had happened, distancing himself from the crime even though it was carried out by his own men.

“You look so much like your father,” Hafez told Walid, before offering reassurances about the fate of the Druze in Mount Lebanon, describing them as the guardians of Arab frontiers since the Crusades.

This initial dialogue opened a narrow pathway for cooperation, which later expanded, particularly after Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon.

In the battles for Beirut, Walid’s forces fought alongside remnants of the Syrian army—specifically the 82nd Brigade, led by Gen. Mohammed Halal, a Sunni officer from Daraa—who, despite limited manpower, resisted the Israeli advance alongside Amal Movement fighters.

Bashar al-Assad and Walid Jumblatt. (AFP file)

‘No chemistry’

Hamadeh touched on the fraught relationship between Walid Jumblatt and Hafez’s successor, Bashar al-Assad, and said:

“The first open rejection of Bashar’s policies by Walid led to a major crisis in 2000. Syria, under Bashar’s leadership and through Lebanese intelligence, launched an all-out electoral war against us—and against Rafik al-Hariri in Beirut. They incited opposition against him, but we won all the seats in Mount Lebanon, and Hariri secured a sweeping victory in Beirut.”

At the same time, Israel withdrew from southern Lebanon.

“Hezbollah realized that Israel was looking to cut its losses and decided to pull out,” Hamadeh said.

“Among Christians, discussions soon followed, leading to the issuance of the Maronite bishops' statement. Their position aligned with ours: if the enemy (Israel) had withdrawn, then the brother (Syria) should also reconsider its presence. The Christian clergy explicitly called for a Syrian military withdrawal. We, on the other hand, took a more measured stance, urging a reduction in Syria’s presence. In parliament, Walid called for a Syrian redeployment,” he added.

This triggered an immediate backlash. Assem Kanso, a former colleague and then-secretary of Lebanon’s Baath Party, accused Walid of treason and called for his execution.

“That was the first major crisis of Bashar’s rule, right at the start of his presidency,” Hamadeh said.

“Frankly, I can say that relations between Walid and Bashar were never good. From their very first meeting, there was simply no chemistry between them,” explained Hamadeh.

“We always knew that Hafez al-Assad was behind decisions involving assassinations and kidnappings. At An-Nahar, we were well aware of the abduction of Michel Abu Jaoudeh.”

“But Hafez’s son, Bashar, was a different story—closed off, detached. He brought his wife from London, projected a modern image, and claimed to be the champion of the internet in the Middle East. Yet within three months, he couldn’t tolerate the cafes and clubs he had allowed to open in Damascus. Do you remember what happened to the intellectuals? He briefly opened the door for them, then slammed it shut. Many ended up in Seydnaya and Tadmur prisons.”

“There was never any chemistry between Bashar and Walid,” Hamadeh reiterated.

Lahoud’s extension

“Bashar began tightening the screws on us, and we started looking for a way out. In 2003, he forced Rafik al-Hariri to reshuffle the government, removing some of his key allies. He then tried to push us out as well, but neither Hariri nor Walid gave in. We remained in the cabinet that oversaw the 2004 presidential election. At the time, Hariri had famously declared, ‘I would cut off my hand before extending Emile Lahoud’s term.’ Walid shared the same conviction.”

“We spoke with Bashar, who tried to offer reassurances, but we knew he was orchestrating Lahoud’s extension. There were figures with strong ties to Syria, though not necessarily to Bashar—people like Jean Obeid, who had broad Arab and international acceptance, particularly in the Gulf. But Bashar refused to consider anyone other than Lahoud.”

“Tensions escalated significantly at that point, coinciding with a rare alignment between the US and France on expelling Syria from Lebanon.”

“Resolution 1559 was the product of a US-French understanding, and Michel Aoun had played a role in its preparation before striking a deal with the Syrians to secure his return from exile and eventually become president,” said Hamadeh.

“In February 2004, I traveled to Brussels as acting foreign minister. At the time, we had suspended executions to maintain our standing with Europe, which opposed the death penalty. I gave assurances to that effect—an agreement that remains in place today. After leaving a Lebanon-Europe conference, the Dutch foreign minister, who chaired the meeting, told me: ‘You have succeeded this time as a good lawyer for a losing case.’”

“I had promised that we would not amend the constitution regarding capital punishment, a move that sparked controversy back home. We held annual conferences with Europe—one economic, which I had organized in November, and another political, attended by foreign ministers. I stepped in for Jean Obeid, who told me he was planning an African tour and wanted to avoid embarrassment, as the Syria issue would be raised in the conference.”

“The Dutch minister then delivered a stark message: ‘You got through this year, but next year, there will be only one item on the agenda: Syria’s withdrawal from Lebanon.’”

Rafik al-Hariri (C), Walid Jumblatt (L) and Nabih Berri.

‘Break Lebanon over your head’

“The decision had already been made between the Americans and their allies—before Rafik al-Hariri even knew about it. When he did, he seemed encouraged, believing it meant Emile Lahoud’s term would not be extended and that Lebanon could shift away from Syria’s grip, particularly as Hezbollah’s growing military and security presence was becoming intolerable.”

“That August, Hariri, [parliament Speaker] Nabih Berri, and Walid Jumblatt were summoned to Damascus. Syrian intelligence chief in Lebanon Rustum Ghazaleh visited them, informing them that President Bashar al-Assad expected them at a meeting the next morning at 9 a.m.”

“Jumblatt refused outright. Berri agreed to go. Hariri hesitated, but Ghazaleh pressed him, insisting that as Lebanon’s prime minister, his presence was mandatory,” said Hamadeh. “When Ghazaleh made another attempt to persuade Jumblatt, his response was unequivocal: ‘I will not go.’”

“The meeting between Hariri and Assad reportedly lasted just 10 minutes, with Hariri standing the entire time. According to reports, Assad bluntly told him: ‘You want to change Lebanon’s face. You want to impose a president. You want to force us out. I will break Lebanon over your head, over Walid Jumblatt’s head, and over Jacques Chirac’s head.’”

Hariri returned to Walid Jumblatt’s residence in Clemenceau, Beirut, where Hamadeh was waiting alongside MP Bassem al-Sabaa. He recounted what had transpired with Bashar.

According to Hamadeh, Jumblatt told him: “You voted for Lahoud’s extension because they would have killed you otherwise.”

Hariri responded: “And you?”

Jumblatt replied: “I’m going to the mountains to save myself.”

That’s exactly what happened. Hariri, however, could not come to terms with the situation.

“We—the three Progressive Socialist Party ministers and Fares Boueiz—resigned instead of voting. Jean Obeid, meanwhile, did not attend, but in the end, they forced him to be counted as present. He refused to go, yet they ordered Cabinet Secretary-General Suheil Bouji to record his attendance,” said Hamadeh.

“Hariri ultimately gave in and attended the extension session, where he cast his vote in favor. A list of 29 MPs who rejected Lahoud’s extension was published—an honor roll of dissent,” he added.

“From that list, they picked me. In October 2004, I was targeted in an assassination attempt. Three-and-a-half months later, Hariri was assassinated.”

“On February 14, 2005, I was at An-Nahar newspaper, meeting European Ambassador Patrick Renaud. I still remember his name vividly because of what happened next. We heard a massive explosion—a real tremor. Initially, we thought it might have been an arms depot detonating.”

“We immediately started calling Clemenceau, where Jumblatt was, and Qoreitem, Hariri’s residence. By then, Jumblatt had already rushed to the American University Hospital,” recounted Hamadeh.

“You ask if I was targeted because of my close ties to both men? Without a doubt. Perhaps the goal was to eliminate me ahead of the elections—to ensure I would not run. Maybe they thought: this one can be dealt with. They had a candidate lined up against me, but he always lost. That time, however, there was no election—I won unopposed because of the assassination attempt.”

Syrian withdrawal

Hamadeh’s friendship with Hariri and his unique position allowed him to mediate whenever tensions arose with Walid Jumblatt—whether over economic policies that Walid disagreed with or other matters.

“I always stepped in to reconcile them, preserving and strengthening their alliance,” said Hamadeh. “Over 15 to 20 years, their relationship evolved into a genuine friendship. They stood together on everything—from security and economic policies to building hospitals. It was a true partnership, and I was one of its guardians,” he remembered.

“After Hariri’s assassination, Walid wept for him—and perhaps for Lebanon as well. He feared Syria’s grip would tighten, with a Syrian-backed president in Lahoud and a government under Omar Karami, handpicked by Damascus,” said Hamadeh.

The March 14 mass protest—sparked by Hariri’s killing—was a revelation for Walid. He realized that the momentum created by Hariri’s blood would ultimately force Syria’s withdrawal from Lebanon.

“Yet, Walid was also wary. He knew that politics is a cycle of ebb and flow—that the victory could eventually turn against us. Our immediate goal was to remove Lahoud from the presidency, and Walid was eager to push him out,” added Hamadeh.

“However, when Patriarch Nasrallah Sfeir opposed the move, insisting the president should serve out his term, we had to adjust our course. This led us to commit a serious mistake—the 2005 Quadripartite Agreement with Hezbollah,” he added.

When asked if he accused the Syrian regime of attempting to assassinate him, Hamadeh said: “And Hezbollah as well. I have the indictment right here on my desk, detailing everything.”

He alleged that all assassination operations were led by a unit commanded by Hezbollah member Imad Mughniyeh, but the actual executor was Mustafa Badreddine, known by the alias Sami Issa.

“Badreddine lived in Jounieh under a Christian name. He owned a jewelry shop, had a yacht, and moved within the city’s elite circles, surrounded by wealthy acquaintances.”

Among the operatives, he pointed to Salim Jamil Ayyash, who was convicted in absentia for Hariri’s assassination.

“The others are dead—Imad Mughniyeh was killed early on, and Badreddine was assassinated later. Under international law, they can no longer be pursued,” said Hamadeh.

He emphasized that while Syria facilitated the assassinations, the decision and execution originated in Tehran and ended in Hezbollah’s stronghold of Haret Hreik in Beirut’s southern suburbs.

Rafik al-Hariri (L) and Marwan Hamadeh seated at parliament. (Courtesy of Marwan Hamadeh)

Arab Syria

When asked about his feelings upon arriving in Damascus and finding interim President Ahmed al-Sharaa sitting in the chair once occupied by both Bashar and Hafez al-Assad, Hamadeh reflected:

“The whole trip stirred emotions. Crossing from the Al-Masnaa border to Jdeidet Yabous, not through military checkpoints or Syrian intelligence, felt different. The road was clear, with no scrutiny, and there were no statues or inscriptions declaring 'Assad forever' along the way. All the military barracks were either destroyed or abandoned. As you approach Damascus, you feel like you’re stepping back into the times of the Umayyads and Abbasids, returning to the heart of Arab Syria.”

He continued, describing the route to the presidential palace: “It reminded me that Hariri was the one who built this palace, funded by Saudi Arabia. But today, you arrive at the palace and find no guards until you reach the gates. Upon entering, you're welcomed by a young man exuding wisdom, calm, and rationality. He may not act on everything he says, but you feel his clear vision.”

Reflecting on al-Sharaa’s character, Hamadeh noted: “I found in al-Sharaa a blend of revolutionary spirit and leadership. He wants to quickly shift Syria from an era of factions to a republic, from the time of divisions to the time of the state. Syria is still fragmented, with issues like the Kurdish and Druze concerns that we raised, but thankfully, progress is being made. He’s cautious about the Alawites, fearing reprisals from his own people, but insists, ‘We have nothing against the Alawites.’ A significant portion of them opposed the Assad regime.”

He added that al-Sharaa believed that the people of Damascus, and Syria more broadly, should not be blamed for events that transpired over 1,400 years ago. He saw the situation as a political accident, the weight of which has been unfairly placed on entire communities, even to this day.

As he reflected on the tension between Syria and Iran, Hamadeh also recalled how al-Sharaa's forces rapidly swept through the country in a lightening campaign that ousted Assad in December.

“I asked how they managed to travel from Aleppo to Damascus in just three days. He explained, ‘We didn’t breach military borders. The people opened the roads for us. The people of Hama and Homs welcomed us, their only concern was to avoid further bloodshed.’ They started by freeing prisoners, allowing people to breathe before they liberated government buildings or military establishments like the Ministry of Defense,” said Hamadeh.

“This was very reminiscent of what happened when Kamal Jumblatt was assassinated, with some blaming the Christian community, even though it was the Syrian regime behind the murder,” he added.

When asked about his surprise that Syria was now free of Iranian influence, Hamadeh said: “What surprised me was that Syria is now in the hands of its people, without a security state. The former security apparatus would target anyone, even those with minimal connections to the Assad regime. That was al-Sharaa's main concern—ensuring this didn’t happen. There are still employees from the Assad era who remain today.”

Optimism

He was then asked about his feelings when conducting the interview at An-Nahar newspaper’s building, a publication with a long history of clashes with the Assad regime. Hamadeh said: “Our newspaper was bombed, occupied, and its editor-in-chief Michel Abu Ghida was kidnapped. He was later freed with the help of Yasser Arafat and Kamal Jumblatt through mediation with Hafez al-Assad and Hikmat al-Shihabi. They tried to assassinate Gebran Tueni when he was still young. They came back, occupied our office, seized the archives, and took the entire newspaper’s records. For almost 20 days, we, along with other media outlets, were in a state of siege. From that point, we were all in the same cage.”

Hamadeh continued, recounting the tragic story: “The rest of the story is well known. They assassinated journalist and writer Samir Kassir, then they killed Tueni. We tried to send him abroad for safety, but he refused. They also attempted to bankrupt the newspaper. Hariri had a stake in An-Nahar, and they pressured him to sell it. Assad himself personally imposed this. We didn’t have the funds to buy his shares, but Hariri crafted a deal, delaying the payment until after the election of a new president, with the understanding that Lahoud wouldn’t be re-elected and that Lebanon would finally be free from Syrian pressure. But that never happened. After Hariri’s assassination, the deal was torn up.”

When asked about the election of Gen. Joseph Aoun as Lebanon’s president and the formation of a government led by Nawaf Salam, Hamadeh expressed optimism for Lebanon’s future.

“The opportunity came before they were chosen. It arose from their profiles—one preserved the army, and the other preserved his dignity and knowledge. They brought forward a Lebanese movement that wasn’t originally coordinated, but it translated into a popular wave,” he remarked. “We’ve returned to the Arab fold. As soon as the new president was elected, we knew we had emerged from the cage into the embrace of the Arab world. This marks the difference between the Assad regime and the systems they used to attack, which have proven to be more progressive than them.”



Palestinians’ Dangerous Ordeal to Reach Israeli-Approved Aid in Gaza

Palestinians collect what remains of relief supplies from the distribution center of the US-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, in Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, June 5, 2025. (Reuters)
Palestinians collect what remains of relief supplies from the distribution center of the US-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, in Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, June 5, 2025. (Reuters)
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Palestinians’ Dangerous Ordeal to Reach Israeli-Approved Aid in Gaza

Palestinians collect what remains of relief supplies from the distribution center of the US-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, in Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, June 5, 2025. (Reuters)
Palestinians collect what remains of relief supplies from the distribution center of the US-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, in Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, June 5, 2025. (Reuters)

When university professor Nizam Salama made his way to a southern Gaza aid point last week, he came under fire twice, was crushed in a desperate crowd of hungry people and finally left empty handed.

Shooting first started shortly after he left his family's tent at 3 a.m. on June 3 to join crowds on the coast road heading towards the aid site in the city of Rafah run by the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF), a new US-based organization working with private military contractors to deliver aid in Gaza.

The second time Salama came under fire was at Alam Roundabout close to the aid delivery site, where he saw six dead bodies.

Twenty-seven people were killed that day by Israeli fire on aid seekers, Palestinian health authorities said. Israel said its forces had shot at a group of people they viewed as a threat and the military is investigating the incident.

At the aid delivery site, known as SDS 1, queues snaked through narrow cage-like fences before gates were opened to an area surrounded by sand barriers where packages of supplies were left on tables and in boxes on the ground, according to undated CCTV video distributed by GHF, reviewed by Reuters.

Salama said the rush of thousands of people once the gates opened was a "death trap."

"Survival is for the stronger: people who are fitter and can make it earlier and can push harder to win the package," he said. "I felt my ribs going into each other. My chest was going into itself. My breath...I couldn't breathe. People were shouting; they couldn't breathe at all."

A Palestinian man, next to a child, displays the aid supplies he received from the US-supported Gaza Relief Organization, in Khan Younis, southern Gaza Strip, June 5, 2025. (Reuters)

Reuters could not independently verify all the details of Salama's account. It matched the testimonies of two other aid seekers interviewed by Reuters, who spoke of crawling and ducking as bullets rattled overhead on their way to or from the aid distribution sites.

All three witnesses said they saw dead bodies on their journeys to and from the Rafah sites.

A statement from a nearby Red Cross field hospital confirmed the number of dead from the attack near the aid site on June 3.

Asked about the high number of deaths since it began operations on May 26, GHF said there had been no casualties at or in the close vicinity of its site.

The Israeli military didn't respond to detailed requests for comment. Israeli military spokesman Brigadier General Effie Defrin told reporters on Sunday that Hamas was "doing its best" to provoke troops, who "shoot to stop the threat" in what he called a war zone in the vicinity of the aid sites. He said military investigations were underway "to see where we were wrong."

Salama, 52, had heard enough about the new system to know it would be difficult to get aid, he said, but his five children - including two adults, two teenagers and a nine-year-old - needed food. They have been eating only lentils or pasta for months, he said, often only a single meal a day.

"I was completely against going to the aid site of the American company (GHF) because I knew and I had heard how humiliating it is to do so, but I had no choice because of the bad need to feed my family," said the professor of education administration.

In total, 127 Palestinians have been killed trying to get aid from GHF sites in almost daily shootings since distribution under the new system began two weeks ago, Gaza's health authority said on Monday.

The system appears to violate core principles of humanitarian aid, said Jan Egeland, head of the Norwegian Refugee Council, a major humanitarian organization. He compared it to the Hunger Games, the dystopian novels that set people to run and fight to the death.

"A few will be rewarded and the many will only risk their lives for nothing," Egeland said.

"International humanitarian law has prescribed that aid in war zones should be provided by neutral intermediaries that can make sure that the most vulnerable will get the relief according to needs alone and not as part of a political or military strategy," he said.

GHF did not directly respond to a question about its neutrality, replying that it had securely delivered enough aid for more than 11 million meals in two weeks. Gaza's population is around 2.1 million people.

A Palestinian man shows blood stains on his palm after he carried casualties among people seeking aid supplies from the US-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, in Khan Younis, in the southern Gaza Strip, May 29, 2025. (Reuters)

FAMINE RISK

Israel allowed limited UN-led aid operations to resume on May 19 after an 11-week blockade in the enclave, where experts a week earlier warned a famine looms.

The UN has described the aid allowed into Gaza as "drop in the ocean."

Separate to the UN operation, Israel allowed GHF to open four sites in Gaza, bypassing traditional aid groups. The GHF sites are overseen by a US logistics company run by a former CIA official and part-owned by a Chicago-based private equity firm, with security provided by US military veterans working for a private contractor, two sources have told Reuters.

An Israeli defense official involved in humanitarian matters told Reuters GHF's distribution centers were sufficient for around 1.2 million people. Israel and the United States have urged the UN to work with GHF, which has seen a high churn of top personnel, although both countries deny funding it.

Reuters has not been able to establish who provides the funding for the organization but reported last week that Washington was considering an Israeli request to put in $500 million.

GHF coordinates with the Israeli army for access, the foundation said in reply to Reuters questions, adding that it was looking to open more distribution points. It has paused then resumed deliveries several times after the shooting incidents, including on Monday.

Last week, it urged the Israeli army to improve civilian safety beyond the perimeter of its operations. GHF said the UN was failing to deliver aid, pointing to a spate of recent lootings.

Israel says the UN's aid deliveries have previously been hijacked by Hamas to feed their own fighters. Hamas has denied stealing aid and the UN denies its aid operations help Hamas.

The UN, which has handled previous aid deliveries into Gaza, says it has over 400 distribution points for aid in the territory. On Monday it described an increasingly anarchic situation of looting and has called on Israel to allow more of its trucks to move safely.

SHOOTING STARTS

Salama and four neighbors set out from Mawasi, in the Khan Younis area of the southern Gaza Strip, at 3 a.m. on Tuesday for the aid site, taking two hours to reach Rafah, which is several miles away near the Egyptian border.

Shooting started early in their journey. Some fire was coming from the sea, he said, consistent with other accounts of the incidents. Israel's military controls the sea around Gaza.

His small group decided to press on. In the dark, the way was uneven and he repeatedly fell, he said.

"I saw people carrying wounded persons and heading back with them towards Khan Younis," he said.

By the time they reached Alam Roundabout in Rafah, about a kilometer from the site, there was a vast crowd. There was more shooting and he saw bullets hitting nearby.

"You must duck and stay on the ground," he said, describing casualties with wounds to the head, chest and legs.

He saw bodies nearby, including a woman, along with "many" injured people, he said.

Another aid seeker interviewed by Reuters, who also walked to Rafah on June 3 in the early morning, described repeated gunfire during the journey.

At one point, he and everyone around him crawled for a stretch of several hundred meters, fearing being shot. He saw a body with a wound to the head about 100 meters from the aid site, he said.

Palestinians gather to collect aid supplies from the US-backed Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, in Khan Younis, in the southern Gaza Strip, May 29, 2025. (Reuters)

The Red Cross Field Hospital in Rafah received a mass casualty influx of 184 patients on June 3, the majority of them injured by gunshots, the International Committee of the Red Cross said in a statement, calling it the highest number of weapon-wounded patients the hospital had ever received in a single incident. There were 27 fatalities.

"All responsive patients said they were trying to reach an assistance distribution site," the statement said.

When Salama finally arrived at the aid point on June 3, there was nothing left.

"Everyone was standing pulling cardboard boxes from the floor that were empty," he said. "Unfortunately, I found nothing: a very, very, very big zero."

Although the aid was gone, more people were arriving.

"The flood of people pushes you to the front while I was trying to go back," he said.

As he was pushed further towards where GHF guards were located, he saw them using pepper spray on the crowd, he said.

GHF said it was not aware of the pepper spray incident, but said its workers used non-lethal measures to protect civilians.

"I started shouting at the top of my lungs, brothers I don't want anything, I just want to leave, I just want to leave the place," Salama said.

"I left empty-handed... I went back home depressed, sad and angry and hungry too," he said.