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.”



Beirut’s Commodore Hotel, a Haven for Journalists During Lebanon’s Civil War, Shuts Down

People stand outside the closed Commodore hotel, in Beirut, Lebanon, Sunday, Jan. 11, 2026. (AP)
People stand outside the closed Commodore hotel, in Beirut, Lebanon, Sunday, Jan. 11, 2026. (AP)
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Beirut’s Commodore Hotel, a Haven for Journalists During Lebanon’s Civil War, Shuts Down

People stand outside the closed Commodore hotel, in Beirut, Lebanon, Sunday, Jan. 11, 2026. (AP)
People stand outside the closed Commodore hotel, in Beirut, Lebanon, Sunday, Jan. 11, 2026. (AP)

During Lebanon’s civil war, the Commodore Hotel in western Beirut's Hamra district became iconic among the foreign press corps.

For many, it served as an unofficial newsroom where they could file dispatches even when communications systems were down elsewhere. Armed guards at the door provided some sense of protection as sniper fights and shelling were turning the cosmopolitan city to rubble.

The hotel even had its own much-loved mascot: a cheeky parrot.

The Commodore endured for decades after the 15-year civil war ended in 1990 — until this week, when it closed for good.

The main gate of the nine-story hotel with more than 200 rooms was shuttered Monday. Officials at the Commodore refused to speak to the media about the decision to close.

Although the country’s economy is beginning to recover from a protracted financial crisis that began in 2019, tensions in the region and the aftermath of the Israel-Hezbollah war that was halted by a tenuous ceasefire in November 2024 are keeping many tourists away. Lengthy daily electricity cuts force businesses to rely on expensive private generators.

The Commodore is not the first of the crisis-battered country’s once-bustling hotels to shut down in recent years.

But for journalists who lived, worked and filed their dispatches there, its demise hits particularly hard.

“The Commodore was a hub of information — various guerrilla leaders, diplomats, spies and of course scores of journalists circled the cafes and lounges,” said Tim Llewellyn, a former BBC Middle East correspondent who covered the civil war. “On one occasion (late Palestinian leader) Yasser Arafat himself dropped in to sip coffee with” with the hotel manager's father, he recalled.

A line to the outside world

At the height of the civil war, when telecommunications were dysfunctional and much of Beirut was cut off from the outside world, it was at the Commodore where journalists found land lines and Telex machines that always worked to send reports to their media organizations around the globe.

Across the front office desk in the wide lobby of the Commodore, there were two teleprinters that carried reports of The Associated Press and Reuters news agencies.

“The Commodore had a certain seedy charm. The rooms were basic, the mattresses lumpy and the meal fare wasn’t spectacular,” said Robert H. Reid, the AP’s former Middle East regional editor, who was among the AP journalists who covered the war. The hotel was across the street from the international agency’s Middle East head office at the time.

“The friendly staff and the camaraderie among the journalist-guests made the Commodore seem more like a social club where you could unwind after a day in one of the world’s most dangerous cities,” Reid said.

Llewellyn remembers that the hotel manager at the time, Yusuf Nazzal, told him in the late 1970s “that it was I who had given him the idea” to open such a hotel in a war zone.

Llewellyn said that during a long chat with Nazzal on a near-empty Middle East Airlines Jumbo flight from London to Beirut in the fall of 1975, he told him that there should be a hotel that would make sure journalists had good communications, “a street-wise and well-connected staff running the desks, the phones, the teletypes.”

During Israel's 1982 invasion of Lebanon and a nearly three-month siege of West Beirut by Israeli troops, journalists used the roof of the hotel to film fighter jets striking the city.

The parrot

One of the best-known characters at the Commodore was Coco the parrot, who was always in a cage near the bar. Patrons were often startled by what they thought was the whiz of an incoming shell, only to discover that it was Coco who made the sound.

AP’s chief Middle East correspondent Terry Anderson was a regular at the hotel before he was kidnapped in Beirut in 1985 and held for seven years, becoming one of the longest-held American hostages in history.

Videos of Anderson released by his kidnappers later showed him wearing a white T-shirt with the words “Hotel Commodore Lebanon.”

With the kidnapping of Anderson and other Western journalists, many foreign media workers left the predominantly-Muslim western part of Beirut, and after that the hotel lost its status as a safe haven for foreign journalists.

Ahmad Shbaro, who worked at different departments of the hotel until 1988, said the main reason behind the Commodore’s success was the presence of armed guards that made journalists feel secure in the middle of Beirut’s chaos as well as functioning telecommunications.

He added that the hotel also offered financial facilities for journalists who ran out of money. They would borrow money from Nazzal and their companies could pay him back by depositing money in his bank account in London.

Shbaro remembers a terrifying day in the late 1970s when the area of the hotel was heavily shelled and two rooms at the Commodore were hit.

“The hotel was full and all of us, staffers and journalists, spent the night at Le Casbah,” a famous nightclub in the basement of the building, he said.

In quieter times, journalists used to spend the night partying by the pool.

“It was a lifeline for the international media in West Beirut, where journalists filed, ate, slept, and hid from air raids, shelling, and other violence,” said former AP correspondent Scheherezade Faramarzi.

“It gained both fame and notoriety,” she said, speaking from the Mediterranean island of Cyprus.

The hotel was built in 1943 and kept functioning until 1987 when it was heavily damaged in fighting between Shiite and Druze militiamen at the time. The old Commodore building was later demolished and a new structure was build with an annex and officially opened again for the public in 1996.

But Coco the parrot was no longer at the bar. The bird went missing during the 1987 fighting. Shbaro said it is believed he was taken by one of the gunmen who stormed the hotel.


Key Details of Greenland’s Rich but Largely Untapped Mineral Resources

Houses covered by snow are seen on the coast of a sea inlet of Nuuk, Greenland, on Monday, Jan. 12, 2026. (AP)
Houses covered by snow are seen on the coast of a sea inlet of Nuuk, Greenland, on Monday, Jan. 12, 2026. (AP)
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Key Details of Greenland’s Rich but Largely Untapped Mineral Resources

Houses covered by snow are seen on the coast of a sea inlet of Nuuk, Greenland, on Monday, Jan. 12, 2026. (AP)
Houses covered by snow are seen on the coast of a sea inlet of Nuuk, Greenland, on Monday, Jan. 12, 2026. (AP)

The Danish and Greenlandic foreign ministers will meet US Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio on Wednesday after President Donald Trump recently
stepped up threats to take over Greenland.

The autonomous territory of Denmark could be useful for the ​United States because of its strategic location and rich mineral resources. A 2023 survey showed that 25 of 34 minerals deemed "critical raw materials" by the European Commission were found in Greenland.

The extraction of oil and natural gas is banned in Greenland for environmental reasons, while development of its mining sector has been snarled in red tape and opposition from indigenous people.

Below are details of Greenland's main mineral deposits, based on data from its Mineral Resources Authority:

RARE EARTHS
Three of Greenland's biggest deposits are located in the southern province of Gardar.

Companies ‌seeking to ‌develop rare-earth mines are Critical Metals Corp, which bought the ‌Tanbreez ⁠deposit, ​Energy Transition Minerals, ‌whose Kuannersuit project is stalled amid legal disputes, and Neo Performance Materials.

Rare-earth elements are key to permanent magnets used in electric vehicles (EV) and wind turbines.

GRAPHITE
Occurrences of graphite and graphite schist are reported from many localities on the island.
GreenRoc has applied for an exploitation license to develop the Amitsoq graphite project.
Natural graphite is mostly used in EV batteries and steelmaking.

COPPER
According to the Mineral Resources Authority, most copper deposits have drawn only limited exploration campaigns.

Especially interesting are the underexplored areas ⁠in the northeast and center-east of Greenland, it said.

London-listed 80 Mile is seeking to develop the Disko-Nuussuaq deposit, which has ‌copper, nickel, platinum and cobalt.

NICKEL
Traces of nickel accumulations are numerous, ‍according to the Mineral Resources Authority.

Major miner ‍Anglo American was granted an exploration license in western Greenland in 2019 and has ‍been looking for nickel deposits, among others.

ZINC
Zinc is mostly found in the north in a geologic formation that stretches more than 2,500 km (1,550 miles).

Companies have sought to develop the Citronen Fjord zinc and lead project, which had been billed as one of the world's largest undeveloped zinc resources.

GOLD
The most prospective ​areas for gold potential are situated around the Sermiligaarsuk fjord in the country's south.

Amaroq Minerals launched a gold mine last year in Mt Nalunaq in ⁠the Kujalleq Municipality.

DIAMONDS
While most small diamonds and the largest stones are found in the island's west, their presence in other regions may also be significant.

IRON ORE
Deposits are located at Isua in southern West Greenland, at Itilliarsuk in central West Greenland, and in North West Greenland along the Lauge Koch Kyst.

TITANIUM-VANADIUM
Known deposits of titanium and vanadium are in the southwest, the east and south.

Titanium is used for commercial, medical and industrial purposes, while vanadium is mainly used to produce specialty steel alloys. The most important industrial vanadium compound, vanadium pentoxide, is used as a catalyst for the production of sulfuric acid.

TUNGSTEN
Used for several industrial applications, tungsten is mostly found in the central-east and northeast of the country, with assessed deposits in the south and west.

URANIUM
In 2021, ‌the then-ruling left-wing Inuit Ataqatigiit party banned uranium mining, effectively halting development of the Kuannersuit rare-earths project, which has uranium as a byproduct.


The West Bank Football Field Slated for Demolition by Israel

Israeli army bulldozers pass buildings during a military operation in Nur Shams refugee camp, near the West Bank city of Tulkarem, 12 January 2026. (EPA)
Israeli army bulldozers pass buildings during a military operation in Nur Shams refugee camp, near the West Bank city of Tulkarem, 12 January 2026. (EPA)
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The West Bank Football Field Slated for Demolition by Israel

Israeli army bulldozers pass buildings during a military operation in Nur Shams refugee camp, near the West Bank city of Tulkarem, 12 January 2026. (EPA)
Israeli army bulldozers pass buildings during a military operation in Nur Shams refugee camp, near the West Bank city of Tulkarem, 12 January 2026. (EPA)

Israeli authorities have ordered the demolition of a football field in a crowded refugee camp in the occupied West Bank, eliminating one of the few ​spaces where Palestinian children are able to run and play.

"If the field gets demolished, this will destroy our dreams and our future. We cannot play any other place but this field, the camp does not have spaces," said Rital Sarhan, 13, who plays on a girls' soccer team in the Aida refugee camp near Bethlehem.

The Israeli military ‌issued a demolition ‌order for the field on ‌December ⁠31, ​saying ‌it was built illegally in an area that abuts the concrete barrier wall that Israel built in the West Bank.

"Along the security fence, a seizure order and a construction prohibition order are in effect; therefore, the construction in the area was carried out unlawfully," the Israeli military said in a statement.

Mohammad Abu ⁠Srour, an administrator at Aida Youth Center, which manages the field, said the ‌military gave them seven days to demolish ‍the field.

The Israeli military ‍often orders Palestinians to carry out demolitions themselves. If they ‍do not act, the military steps in to destroy the structure in question and then sends the Palestinians a bill for the costs.

According to Abu Srour, Israel's military told residents when delivering ​the demolition order that the football field represented a threat to the separation wall and to Israelis.

"I ⁠do not know how this is possible," he said.

Israeli demolitions have drawn widespread international criticism and coincide with heightened fears among Palestinians of an organized effort by Israel to formally annex the West Bank, the area seized by Israel in the 1967 Middle East war.

Israel accelerated demolitions in Palestinian refugee camps in early 2025, leading to the displacement of 32,000 residents of camps in the central and northern West Bank.

Human Rights Watch has called the demolitions a war crime. ‌Israel has said they are intended to disrupt militant activity.