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.”



Sheibani, an Iranian Diplomat with Intelligence Clout

 Iranian ambassador to Lebanon Mohammad Reza Sheibani (Iranian media)
Iranian ambassador to Lebanon Mohammad Reza Sheibani (Iranian media)
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Sheibani, an Iranian Diplomat with Intelligence Clout

 Iranian ambassador to Lebanon Mohammad Reza Sheibani (Iranian media)
Iranian ambassador to Lebanon Mohammad Reza Sheibani (Iranian media)

Only weeks after Iranian diplomat Mohammad Reza Sheibani returned to Beirut as ambassador, his name has become the focus of a diplomatic crisis.

Lebanon’s Foreign Ministry withdrew its approval and declared him “persona non grata”, reflecting rising tensions between Beirut and Tehran and drawing renewed attention to a career tied to some of the Middle East’s most complex issues.

The decision swiftly ended the mission of a diplomat Tehran had sent back to Beirut, relying on his long experience on Lebanon and Syria.

His return had collided with a Lebanese political climate increasingly sensitive to the limits of foreign diplomatic roles.

War experience and regional role

Sheibani is no stranger to Lebanon. He served as Iran’s ambassador to Beirut from 2005 to 2009, a period that coincided with the 2006 war between Hezbollah and Israel, giving him direct experience managing ties under complex security and political conditions.

His reappointment in early 2026 reflected an Iranian preference for seasoned diplomats in areas where politics and security overlap.

He replaced former ambassador Mojtaba Amani, who was injured in a pager explosion in Beirut, at a time of regional escalation, giving his return added weight beyond routine diplomacy.

Between Beirut and Damascus

Born in 1960, Sheibani joined Iran’s Foreign Ministry in the 1980s and rose through its ranks, focusing on Middle East affairs.

He served as chargé d’affaires in Cyprus and as head of Iran’s interests section in Egypt, before being appointed ambassador to Lebanon and later to Syria from 2011 to 2016, during which he covered the early years of the war.

He later served as ambassador to Tunisia and non-resident ambassador to Libya, and as assistant foreign minister for Middle East affairs.

He also worked as a senior adviser and researcher at the Institute for Political and International Studies at the Foreign Ministry, before returning to the forefront amid rising regional tensions.

Roles during escalation

In October 2024, he was named special representative of the Iranian foreign minister for West Asia, and in January 2025, he was appointed special envoy to Syria following developments in Damascus, including the closure of Iran’s embassy.

He was also tasked with following the Lebanese file as a special envoy during a sensitive phase, reinforcing his role as a crisis diplomat.

His career reflects a distinction within Iran’s diplomatic structure, as he is linked to the Ministry of Intelligence rather than the Quds Force of the Revolutionary Guard Corps, highlighting a division of roles in foreign policy.

Legal and constitutional debate

The move by Lebanon’s Foreign Ministry has also sparked legal debate over how such decisions are made and enforced.

Constitutional expert Saeed Malek said the decision is based on Article 9 of the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations, which allows a state to declare a diplomat persona non grata without a specific procedure.

He said the measure does not amount to a break in diplomatic ties but falls within the management of diplomatic representation, adding that such decisions fall within the foreign minister’s authority under Article 66 of the constitution.

Malek said the decision is binding, and once the deadline to leave Lebanon expires, the ambassador’s presence becomes unlawful.

He added that security forces are required to enforce the decision and remove him once located.

However, he said enforcement remains bound by international rules, as the ambassador’s presence inside the embassy prevents Lebanese forces from entering under diplomatic immunity, meaning his expulsion can only be carried out once he leaves the premises.


Mohammad Baqer Zolghadr: A Man with Strong Connections at the Heart of Iran’s Revolutionary Guards

Zolghadr speaks in an interview with the Tasnim News Agency, December 2020.
Zolghadr speaks in an interview with the Tasnim News Agency, December 2020.
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Mohammad Baqer Zolghadr: A Man with Strong Connections at the Heart of Iran’s Revolutionary Guards

Zolghadr speaks in an interview with the Tasnim News Agency, December 2020.
Zolghadr speaks in an interview with the Tasnim News Agency, December 2020.

Mohammad Baqer Zolghadr was not an unfamiliar figure when he was appointed on Tuesday as secretary of Iran’s Supreme National Security Council. One week after the killing of Ali Larijani, and amid a war that has thinned the ranks of Iran’s top leadership, authorities turned to a man shaped within one of the deepest layers of the “Islamic Republic’s” power structure.

Mehdi Tabatabaei, the Iranian president’s deputy communications director, said on Tuesday that General Zolghadr had been appointed to replace Larijani. He wrote on X that Iran’s new Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei had approved the decision.

The Supreme National Security Council, formally headed by President Masoud Pezeshkian, coordinates security and foreign policy. It includes senior military, intelligence and government officials, as well as representatives of the Supreme Leader, who has final authority in state affairs.

Zolghadr’s appointment appears to reflect state priorities in a time of crisis. A further decree is expected to name him as the Supreme Leader’s representative on the council, allowing him to vote under the constitution.

Unlike politicians who rise through elections or public platforms, Zolghadr belongs to a different category: a figure who boasts internal networks that predate the state and later embedded themselves within it. He accumulated power within the agencies instead of confronting them. His career resembles less a sequence of administrative posts and more a continuous thread linking some of the most entrenched centers of power in Iran.

His elevation to one of the country’s top security posts is significant not only for the positions he has held, but for the role he has played within the system. A veteran of the Iran-Iraq war, he developed expertise in organization and network-based operations, consolidating his position within the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) and later extending his influence through the interior ministry, judiciary and Expediency Council.

The appointment signals a broader logic within Iran’s ruling establishment: in moments of heightened pressure, figures rooted in institutional networks tend to take precedence over those with a public political profile.

Early career

Zolghadr’s career is closely tied to the political environment from which he emerged. He belongs to a generation associated with the “Mansouroun” network, an early group that later produced influential figures within the IRGC, including Mohsen Rezaei, Ali Shamkhani, Gholam Ali Rashid, and Mohammad and Ahmad Forouzandeh.

The significance of this affiliation lies not only in early organizational ties, but in the nature of the group itself: an ideologically driven pre-revolutionary network that repositioned itself within the state through the IRGC.

Zolghadr’s rise was not an individual climb through institutional ranks, but growth within a web of relationships and loyalties embedded at the core of the system. He emerged not simply as a professional military officer, but as part of a generation that viewed security and politics as intertwined domains in safeguarding the regime. This gave him the rare ability to “reposition” himself and retain power as successive government ruled Iran.

War and the ‘Ramadan’ headquarters

After the fall of the Shah, Zolghadr, like other members of Mansouroun, initially operated through revolutionary committees before joining the IRGC. His most defining wartime role was leading the “Ramadan Headquarters,” a key unit during the Iran-Iraq war.

This post was central to his political and security development. The Ramadan Headquarters served as a nucleus for external operations, coordinating cross-border activities with Iraqi Kurdish and Shiite groups opposed to Saddam Hussein and managing operations inside Iraq. It later evolved into what became the Quds Force, the IRGC’s current foreign arm.

There, Zolghadr developed a hallmark approach: operating at the intersection of military, intelligence and political spheres. The role involved not only managing battlefield operations, but also building networks, cultivating allies and leveraging conflict to generate long-term influence.

This model — combining military structure, indirect operations and proxy management — became a defining feature of Iran’s regional strategy. Within this environment, Zolghadr gained a reputation as a manager and strategist rather than a public-facing commander.

Rise within the IRGC

Following the end of the war in the late 1980s, Zolghadr spent 16 years at the top of the IRGC hierarchy: eight years as chief of the joint staff and eight years as deputy commander-in-chief.

These roles emphasized administration, coordination and institutional discipline rather than field command. His influence was rooted not in public charisma but in his position within the IRGC’s internal machinery.

Over time, he became firmly aligned with Iran’s conservative camp. His political role became more visible during the reformist presidency of Mohammad Khatami, when tensions between reformists and hardline institutions intensified.

Reform era

During the late 1990s, Zolghadr was among military figures associated with the conservative bloc within the IRGC. His name was linked to a letter sent by IRGC commanders to President Khatami, widely seen as a signal of military intervention in political affairs at a time of unrest. He was also associated with hardline opposition to the reform movement and the student protests of that period.

This phase highlighted a structural aspect of his career: his political role did not begin after leaving the military, but was embedded within the IRGC itself as it became increasingly politicized during its confrontation with reformists.

Interior Ministry under Ahmadinejad

When Mahmoud Ahmadinejad became president in 2005, Zolghadr was appointed deputy interior minister for security affairs. The position placed him at the heart of internal security, overseeing provincial governors and managing crises, protests and local tensions. It marked a transition from military service to the executive branch, while maintaining a focus on security.

His move illustrated a broader pattern: shifting from protecting the system through force to safeguarding it through security bureaucracy, expanding his network within the state apparatus.

Basij

Zolghadr left the interior ministry in 2007 amid reports of differences with Ahmadinejad, but his departure did not signal a loss of influence. In December of that year, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei appointed him deputy chief of staff of the armed forces for Basij affairs, a newly created role.

The Basij, a paramilitary force, plays a key role in ideological mobilization and maintaining the IRGC’s presence in Iranian society. The decree emphasized strengthening and expanding the Basij’s reach, underlining the importance of Zolghadr’s assignment.

Judiciary and expanding influence

In 2010, Zolghadr moved to the judiciary, serving first as deputy for social prevention and crime reduction, and later as strategic deputy to the head of the judiciary until 2020.

The shift did not represent a departure from security work, as Iran’s judiciary operates closely under the authority of the Supreme Leader. Instead, it broadened his influence across another pillar of the state.

In September 2021, he was appointed secretary of the Expediency Council, succeeding Mohsen Rezaei. The role involves overseeing the council’s committees and acting as a link to the highest levels of decision-making.

Zolghadr also has family ties that extend his influence. He is the father-in-law of Kazem Gharibabadi, Iran’s deputy foreign minister for legal and international affairs and a prominent figure in nuclear negotiations.

Gharibabadi previously served as Iran’s ambassador to international organizations in Vienna, including the International Atomic Energy Agency.

From Larijani to Zolghadr

Larijani’s death deprived Iran of a political figure skilled in navigating between power centers. The choice of Zolghadr suggests a shift in priorities.

While Larijani represented balance and negotiation, Zolghadr embodies institutional discipline and internal cohesion. His selection follows speculation over other candidates, including former defense minister Hossein Dehghan, who was ultimately not appointed.

The decision reflects the system’s preference, in wartime conditions, for figures trusted by security networks over those known for political flexibility.

He may not be a prominent public figure, but he represents a type of official often relied upon in times of crisis: a man with internal networks, brought back to the forefront as Iran faces one of its most challenging periods.


Expulsion of Iran Ambassador Tests Diplomacy between Beirut and Tehran

Iranian Ambassador to Syria Mohammad Reza Sheibani, shows his ink-stained finger as he votes in the first round of the Iranian presidential election on June 14, 2013 at the Iranian embassy in the Syrian capital, Damascus. (AFP)
Iranian Ambassador to Syria Mohammad Reza Sheibani, shows his ink-stained finger as he votes in the first round of the Iranian presidential election on June 14, 2013 at the Iranian embassy in the Syrian capital, Damascus. (AFP)
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Expulsion of Iran Ambassador Tests Diplomacy between Beirut and Tehran

Iranian Ambassador to Syria Mohammad Reza Sheibani, shows his ink-stained finger as he votes in the first round of the Iranian presidential election on June 14, 2013 at the Iranian embassy in the Syrian capital, Damascus. (AFP)
Iranian Ambassador to Syria Mohammad Reza Sheibani, shows his ink-stained finger as he votes in the first round of the Iranian presidential election on June 14, 2013 at the Iranian embassy in the Syrian capital, Damascus. (AFP)

Diplomatic relations between Lebanon and Iran have entered a new phase with Beirut’s unprecedented withdrawal on Tuesday of its approval of the accreditation of Tehran’s new ambassador Mohammad Reza Sheibani.

The Foreign Ministry said in a statement that it had summoned the Iranian charge d'affaires in Lebanon and informed him of “the Lebanese state's decision to withdraw approval of the accreditation of the appointed Iranian ambassador, Mohammad Reza Sheibani, and declare him persona non grata, demanding that he leave Lebanese territory no later than next Sunday.”

The ministry said it had also summoned Lebanon's ambassador to Iran “in light of what the Lebanese state described as Tehran's violation of diplomatic norms and established practices between the two countries”, after Beirut accused Iran's Revolutionary Guards of commanding Hezbollah's operations in its war against Israel.

The government has accused Hezbollah of dragging Lebanon to war after it fired rockets at Israel on March 2 in wake of the killing of Iran's supreme leader Ali Khamenei at the beginning of the conflict.

Crisis

After three decades of calm, relations between Lebanon and Iran started to grow strained after the 2024 war between Hezbollah and Israel.

Iranian parliament Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf declared at the time that Tehran was ready to negotiate with Paris about the implementation of United Nations Security Council resolution 1701 in Lebanon, sparking condemnation from Lebanon.

Then Prime Minister Najib Mikati slammed it as flagrant meddling in Lebanon’s sovereign affairs. He informed the foreign minister at the time to summon Iran’s charge d’affaires to file a formal complaint.

Relations became more strained in 2025 after Ambassador Mojtaba Amani’s suitcases were searched at Beirut’s Rafik Hariri International Airport.

Youssef Raggi, who became Lebanon’s foreign minister in 2025, summoned the Iranian ambassador for the first time since the 1990s last year. In April, he summoned Amani after he posted that the “project to disarm Hezbollah is an obvious conspiracy.”

The Lebanese government had issued a decision on the disarmament of Iran-backed Hezbollah last year.

In December, media close to Hezbollah reported that Raggi had suspended procedures on approving the accreditation of the new Iranian ambassador.

Last week, he summoned the charge d’affaires over statements attributed to the Iranian mission in Beirut and Iranian officials over security and military developments in Lebanon.

Ties between Raggi and Iranian officials have been strained for months. Last year he declined an official invitation from his Iranian counterpart Abbas Araqhchi to visit Tehran, suggesting that they meet in a third neutral country.

The withdrawal of accreditation is rare and it effectively means that a country refuses to welcome a diplomatic representative, reflecting deep political disapproval of the concerned country’s behavior.

The withdrawal was the latest Lebanese measure against Iran.

On March 5, the government took a series of steps that reflect a hardening approach towards Tehran. It imposed visas on visiting Iranians that had been suspended since 2011 in an effort to encourage trade and tourism between Beirut and Tehran.

The government also banned any activity by the Iranian Revolutionary Guards in Lebanon. Dozens of Iranians have since been deported from Lebanon.

‘Correcting’ relations

Lebanon had in the early 1990s launched a phase to “correct” relations with Iran after the end of the Lebanese civil war.

Then Foreign Minister Fares Boueiz was responsible for “reorganizing diplomatic work in line with the Vienna Convection”, said Lebanese sources.

During the 1975-90 civil war, Iranian officials would move freely to Lebanon through Syria and meet with Hezbollah officials in Beirut. Lebanese authorities had opposed the behavior.

In previous statements to Asharq Al-Awsat, Boueiz said Iranian delegations would travel to Lebanon through Syria without coordinating with the state.

The situation was later addressed through official diplomatic channels, he added.

The Iranian ambassador at the time was informed of the authorities’ objection and the stance was relayed to then Iranian FM Ali Akbar Velayati, said Boueiz.

Two days later, the Lebanese Foreign Ministry received an approval to “correct relations”, leading to an exchange in official visits and the signing of agreements that “regulated” the ties.