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.”



Iraq’s Dreams of Wheat Independence Dashed by Water Crisis 

A drone view shows a circular wheat field in the desert of Basra, Iraq, November 27, 2025. (Reuters)
A drone view shows a circular wheat field in the desert of Basra, Iraq, November 27, 2025. (Reuters)
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Iraq’s Dreams of Wheat Independence Dashed by Water Crisis 

A drone view shows a circular wheat field in the desert of Basra, Iraq, November 27, 2025. (Reuters)
A drone view shows a circular wheat field in the desert of Basra, Iraq, November 27, 2025. (Reuters)

Iraqi wheat farmer Ma'an al-Fatlawi has long depended on the nearby Euphrates River to feed his fields near the city of Najaf. But this year, those waters, which made the Fertile Crescent a cradle of ancient civilization 10,000 years ago, are drying up, and he sees few options.

"Drilling wells is not successful in our land, because the water is saline," al-Fatlawi said, as he stood by an irrigation canal near his parched fields awaiting the release of his allotted water supply.

A push by Iraq - historically among the Middle East's biggest wheat importers - to guarantee food security by ensuring wheat production covers the country's needs has led to three successive annual surpluses of the staple grain.

But those hard-won advances are now under threat as the driest year in modern history and record-low water levels in the Tigris and Euphrates rivers have reduced planting and could slash the harvest by up to 50% this season.

"Iraq is facing one of the most severe droughts that has been observed in decades," the UN Food and Agriculture Organization's Iraq representative Salah El Hajj Hassan told Reuters.

VULNERABLE TO NATURE AND NEIGHBORS

The crisis is laying bare Iraq's vulnerability.

A largely desert nation, Iraq ranks fifth globally for climate risk, according to the UN's Global Environment Outlook. Average temperatures in Iraq have risen nearly half a degree Celsius per decade since 2000 and could climb by up to 5.6 C by the end of the century compared to the period before industrialization, according to the International Energy Agency. Rainfall is projected to decline.

But Iraq is also at the mercy of its neighbors for 70% of its water supply. And Türkiye and Iran have been using upstream dams to take a greater share of the region's shared resource.

The FAO says the diminishing amount of water that has trickled down to Iraq is the biggest factor behind the current crisis, which has forced Baghdad to introduce rationing.

Iraq's water reserves have plunged from 60 billion cubic meters in 2020 to less than 4 billion today, said El Hajj Hassan, who expects wheat production this season to drop by 30% to 50%.

"Rain-fed and irrigated agriculture are directly affected nationwide," he said.

EFFORTS TO END IMPORT DEPENDENCE UNDER THREAT

To wean the country off its dependence on imports, Iraq's government has in recent years paid for high-yield seeds and inputs, promoted modern irrigation and desert farming to expand cultivation, and subsidized grain purchases to offer farmers more than double global wheat prices.

It is a plan that, though expensive, has boosted strategic wheat reserves to over 6 million metric tons in some seasons, overwhelming Iraq's silo capacity. The government, which purchased around 5.1 million tons of the 2025 harvest, said in September that those reserves could meet up to a year of demand.

Others, however, including Harry Istepanian - a water expert and founder of Iraq Climate Change Center - now expect imports to rise again, putting the country at greater risk of higher food prices with knock-on effects for trade and government budgets.

"Iraq's water and food security crisis is no longer just an environmental problem; it has immediate economic and security spillovers," Istepanian told Reuters.

A preliminary FAO forecast anticipates wheat import needs for the 2025/26 marketing year to increase to about 2.4 million tons.

Global wheat markets are currently oversupplied, offering cheaper options, but Iraq could once again face price volatility.

A person walks along the edge of uncultivated farmland on the outskirts of Najaf, where dry soil stretches across fields left unplanted due to water shortages, in Najaf, Iraq, November 29, 2025. (Reuters)

Iraq's trade ministry did not respond to a request for comment on the likelihood of increased imports.

In response to the crisis, the ministry of agriculture capped river-irrigated wheat at 1 million dunams in the 2025/26 season - half last season's level - and mandated modern irrigation techniques including drip and sprinkler systems to replace flood irrigation through open canals, which loses water through evaporation and seepage.

A dunam is a measurement of area roughly equivalent to a quarter acre.

The ministry is allocating 3.5 million dunams in desert areas using groundwater. That too is contingent on the use of modern irrigation.

"The plan was implemented in two phases," said Mahdi Dhamad al-Qaisi, an advisor to the agriculture minister. "Both require modern irrigation."

Rice cultivation, meanwhile, which is far more water-intensive than wheat, was banned nationwide.

RURAL LIVELIHOODS AT RISK

One ton of wheat production in Iraq requires about 1,100 cubic meters of water, said Ammar Abdul-Khaliq, head of the Wells and Groundwater Authority in southern Iraq. Pivoting to more dependence on wells to replace river water is risky.

"If water extraction continues without scientific study, groundwater reserves will decline," he said.

Basra aquifers, he said, have already fallen by three to five meters.

Groundwater irrigation systems are also expensive due to the required infrastructure like sprinklers and concrete basins. That presents a further economic challenge to rural Iraqis, who make up around 30% of the population.

Some 170,000 people have already been displaced in rural areas due to water scarcity, the FAO's El Hajj Hassan said.

"This is not a matter of only food security," he said. "It's worse when we look at it from the perspective of livelihoods."

At his farm in Najaf, al-Fatlawi is now experiencing that first-hand, having cut his wheat acreage to a fifth of its normal level this season and laid off all but two of his 10 workers.

"We rely on river water," he said.


Report: Assad Returns to Ophthalmology, His Family Lives in Russian Luxury  

Bashar al-Assad with his wife, Asma, walk with their children in the northern Syrian city of Aleppo in 2022. (Former Syrian presidency Facebook page/AFP/Getty Images)
Bashar al-Assad with his wife, Asma, walk with their children in the northern Syrian city of Aleppo in 2022. (Former Syrian presidency Facebook page/AFP/Getty Images)
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Report: Assad Returns to Ophthalmology, His Family Lives in Russian Luxury  

Bashar al-Assad with his wife, Asma, walk with their children in the northern Syrian city of Aleppo in 2022. (Former Syrian presidency Facebook page/AFP/Getty Images)
Bashar al-Assad with his wife, Asma, walk with their children in the northern Syrian city of Aleppo in 2022. (Former Syrian presidency Facebook page/AFP/Getty Images)

A year after his regime was toppled in Syria, Bashar al-Assad's family is living an isolated, quiet life of luxury in Moscow.

A friend of the family, sources in Russia and Syria, as well as leaked data, helped give rare insight into the lives of the now reclusive family who once ruled over Syria with an iron fist.

Bashar now sits in the classroom, taking ophthalmology lessons, according to a well-placed source.

“He’s studying Russian and brushing up on his ophthalmology again,” a friend of the Assad family, who has kept in touch with them, told The Guardian.

“It’s a passion of his, he obviously doesn’t need the money. Even before the war in Syria began, he used to regularly practice his ophthalmology in Damascus,” they continued, suggesting the wealthy elite in Moscow could be his target clientele.

The family are likely to reside in the prestigious Rublyovka, a gated community of Moscow’s elite, according to two sources with knowledge of the situation. There they would rub shoulders with the likes of the former Ukrainian president Viktor Yanukovych, who fled Kyiv in 2014 and is believed to live in the area, according to The Guardian.

The Assads are not wanting for money. After being cut off from much of the world’s financial system by western sanctions in 2011 after Assad’s bloody crackdown on protesters, the family put much of their wealth in Moscow, where western regulators could not touch it.

Despite their cushy abode, the family are cut off from the elite Syrian and Russian circles they once enjoyed. Bashar’s 11th-hour flight from Syria left his cronies feeling abandoned and his Russian handlers prevent him from contacting senior regime officials.

Assad fled with his sons out of Damascus in the early hours of December 8, 2024, as Syrian opposition fighters approached the capital from the north and the south. They were met by a Russian military escort and were taken to the Russian Hmeimim airbase, where they were flown out of the country.

Assad did not warn his extended family or close regime allies of the impending collapse, instead leaving them to fend for themselves.

A friend of Maher al-Assad, Bashar’s brother and a top military official, who knows many former members of the palace said: “Maher had been calling Bashar for days but he wouldn’t pick up.”

“He stayed in the palace until the last second, opposition fighters found his shisha coals still warm. It was Maher, not Bashar, who helped others escape. Bashar only cared about himself.”

“It’s a very quiet life,” said the family friend. “He has very little, if any, contact with the outside world. He’s only in touch with a couple of people who were in his palace, like Mansour Azzam [former Syrian minister of presidency affairs] and Yassar Ibrahim [Assad’s top economic crony].”

‘Irrelevant’ to Putin

A source close to the Kremlin said Assad was also largely “irrelevant” to Putin and Russia’s political elite. “Putin has little patience for leaders who lose their grip on power, and Assad is no longer seen as a figure of influence or even an interesting guest to invite to dinner,” the source said.

In the first months after the Assads’ escape, his former regime allies were not on Bashar’s mind. The family gathered in Moscow to support Asma, the British-born former first lady of Syria, who had had leukemia for years and whose condition had become critical. She had been receiving treatment in Moscow before the fall of the Assad regime.

According to a source familiar with the details of Asma’s health, the former first lady has recovered after experimental therapy under the supervision of Russia’s security services

With Asma’s health stabilized, the former dictator is keen to get his side of the story out. He has lined up interviews with RT and a popular rightwing American podcaster, but is waiting for approval from Russian authorities to make a media appearance.

Russia appears to have blocked Assad from any public appearance. In a rare November interview with Iraqi media about Assad’s life in Moscow, Russia’s ambassador to Iraq, Elbrus Kutrashev, confirmed that the toppled dictator was barred from any public activity.

“Assad may live here but cannot engage in political activities ... He has no right to engage in any media or political activity. Have you heard anything from him? You haven’t, because he is not allowed to – but he is safe and alive,” Kutrashev said.

Assad children dazed

Life for the Assad children in contrast seems to continue with relatively little disruption, as they adjust to a new life as Moscow elite.

The family friend, who met some of the children a few months ago, said: “They’re kind of dazed. I think they’re still in a bit of a shock. They’re just kind of getting used to life without being the first family.”

The only time the Assad family – without Bashar – have been seen together in public since the end of their regime was at his daughter Zein al-Assad’s graduation on June 30, where she received a degree in international relations from MGIMO, the elite Moscow university attended by much of Russia’s ruling class.

A photograph on MGIMO’s official website shows the 22-year-old Zein standing with other graduates. In a blurry separate video from the event, members of the Assad family, including Asma and her two sons Hafez, 24, and Karim, 21, can be seen in the audience.

Two of Zein’s classmates who attended the ceremony confirmed that parts of the Assad family were present, but said they kept a low profile. “The family did not stay long and did not take any pictures with Zein on stage like other families,” said one of the former classmates, speaking on condition of anonymity.

Hafez, once groomed as Bashar’s potential successor, has largely withdrawn from public view since posting a Telegram video in February in which he offered his own account of the family’s flight from Damascus, denying they had abandoned their allies and claiming it was Moscow that ordered them to leave Syria.

Syrians quickly geolocated Hafez, who took the video while walking the streets of Moscow.

Hafez has closed most of his social media, instead registering accounts under a pseudonym taken from an American children’s series about a young detective with dyslexia, according to leaked data. The children and their mother spend much of their time shopping, filling their new Russian home with luxury goods, according to the source close to the family.


Rebuilding the Army: One of the Syrian Govt’s Greatest Challenges

Soldiers and police officers from the former Syrian regime handing in weapons last year to new security forces in Latakia, Syria. (Ivor Prickett for The New York Times)
Soldiers and police officers from the former Syrian regime handing in weapons last year to new security forces in Latakia, Syria. (Ivor Prickett for The New York Times)
TT

Rebuilding the Army: One of the Syrian Govt’s Greatest Challenges

Soldiers and police officers from the former Syrian regime handing in weapons last year to new security forces in Latakia, Syria. (Ivor Prickett for The New York Times)
Soldiers and police officers from the former Syrian regime handing in weapons last year to new security forces in Latakia, Syria. (Ivor Prickett for The New York Times)

When opposition factions in Syria came to power a year ago, one of their first acts was to dismiss all of the country’s military forces, which had been used as tools of repression and brutality for five decades under the rule of Bashar al-Assad and his family.

Now, one of the biggest challenges facing the nascent government is rebuilding those forces, an effort that will be critical in uniting this still-fractured country.

But to do so, Syria’s new leaders are following a playbook that is similar to the one they used to set up their government, in which President Ahmed al-Sharaa has relied on a tightknit circle of loyalists.

The military’s new command structure favors former fighters from Sharaa’s former Hayat Tahrir al-Sham group.

The Syrian Defense Ministry is instituting some of the same training methods, including religious instruction, that Sharaa’s former opposition group used to become the most powerful of all the factions that fought the Assad regime during Syria’s civil war.

The New York Times interviewed nearly two dozen soldiers, commanders and new recruits in Syria who discussed the military training and shared their concerns. Nearly all spoke on the condition of anonymity because the Defense Ministry bars soldiers from speaking to the media.

Several soldiers and commanders, as well as analysts, said that some of the government’s rules had nothing to do with military preparedness.

The new leadership was fastidious about certain points, like banning smoking for on-duty soldiers. But on other aspects, soldiers said, the training felt disconnected from the needs of a modern military force.

Last spring, when a 30-year-old former opposition fighter arrived for military training in Syria’s northern province of Aleppo, instructors informed roughly 1,400 new recruits that smoking was not permitted. The former fighter said one of the instructors searched him and confiscated several cigarette packs hidden in his jacket.

The ban pushed dozens of recruits to quit immediately, and many more were kicked out for ignoring it, according to the former fighter, a slender man who chain-smoked as he spoke in Marea, a town in Aleppo Province. After three weeks, only 600 recruits had made it through the training, he said.

He stuck with it.

He said he was taken aback by other aspects of the training. The first week was devoted entirely to Islamic instruction, he said.

Soldiers and commanders said the religious training reflected the ideology that the HTS espoused when it was in power in Idlib, a province in northwestern Syria.

A Syrian defense official, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to speak publicly, said the government had not decided whether minorities would be allowed to enlist.

Syria’s leaders are relying on a small circle of trusted comrades from HTS to lead and shape the new military, several soldiers, commanders and recruits said.

The Syrian Defense Ministry did not respond to a detailed list of questions or repeated requests for comment.

After abolishing conscription, much hated under the Assad regime, the new military recruited volunteers and set qualifications like a ninth-grade education, physical fitness and the ability to read.

But soldiers who had fought with the opposition in the civil war were grandfathered into the ranks, even if they did not fulfill all the criteria, according to several soldiers and commanders.

“They are bringing in a commander of HTS who doesn’t even have a ninth-grade education and are putting him in charge of a battalion,” said Issam al-Reis, a senior military adviser with Etana, a Syrian research group, who has spoken to many former opposition fighters currently serving in the military. “And his only qualification is that he was loyal to Ahmed al-Sharaa.”

Former HTS fighters, like fighters from many other factions, have years of guerrilla-fighting experience from the war to oust the Assad dictatorship. But most have not served as officers in a formal military with different branches such as the navy, air force and infantry and with rigid command structures, knowledge that is considered beneficial when rebuilding an army.

“The strength of an army is in its discipline,” Reis added.

Most soldiers and commanders now start with three weeks of basic training — except those who previously fought alongside Sharaa’s group.

The government has signed an initial agreement with Türkiye to train and develop the military, said Qutaiba Idlbi, director of American affairs at the Syrian Foreign Ministry. But the agreement does not include deliveries of weapons or military equipment, he said, because of American sanctions remaining on Syria.

Col. Ali Abdul Baqi, staff commander of the 70th Battalion in Damascus, is among the few high-level commanders who was not a member of the HTS. Speaking from his office in Damascus, Abdul Baqi said that had he been in Sharaa’s place, he would have built the new military in the same way.

“They aren’t going to take a risk on people they don’t know,” said the colonel, who commanded another opposition group during the civil war.

Some senior commanders said the religious instruction was an attempt to build cohesion through shared faith, not a way of forcing a specific ideology on new recruits.

“In our army, there should be a division focused on political awareness and preventing crimes against humanity and war crimes,” said Omar al-Khateeb, a law graduate, former opposition fighter and current military commander in Aleppo province. “This is more important than training us in religious doctrine we already know.”

*Raja Abdulrahim for The New York Times