Former Spy Chief and Assad’s Cousin Plot Syrian Uprisings from Russia

A member of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham stands guard near an image of Syria's Bashar al-Assad at the fourth division headquarters in Damascus, Syria, January 23, 2025 (Reuters)
A member of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham stands guard near an image of Syria's Bashar al-Assad at the fourth division headquarters in Damascus, Syria, January 23, 2025 (Reuters)
TT

Former Spy Chief and Assad’s Cousin Plot Syrian Uprisings from Russia

A member of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham stands guard near an image of Syria's Bashar al-Assad at the fourth division headquarters in Damascus, Syria, January 23, 2025 (Reuters)
A member of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham stands guard near an image of Syria's Bashar al-Assad at the fourth division headquarters in Damascus, Syria, January 23, 2025 (Reuters)

Two former loyalists to Bashar al-Assad who fled Syria after his fall are funneling millions of dollars to tens of thousands of potential fighters, hoping to stir uprisings against the new government and reclaim some of their lost influence, a Reuters investigation has found.

Assad, who escaped to Russia last December, is largely resigned to exile in Moscow, say four people close to the family. But other senior figures from his inner circle, including his brother, have not come to terms with losing power.

Reuters found that two of the men once closest to Assad, Maj. Gen. Kamal Hassan and billionaire Rami Makhlouf, are competing to form militias in coastal Syria and Lebanon made up of members of their minority Alawite sect, long associated with the Assad family.

All told, the two men and other factions jostling for power are financing more than 50,000 fighters in hope of winning their loyalty.

Assad’s brother, Maher, who is also in Moscow and still controls thousands of former soldiers, has yet to give money or orders, said the four people close to the Assads.

One prize for Hassan and Makhlouf is control of a network of 14 underground command rooms built around coastal Syria toward the end of Assad’s rule, as well as weapons caches.

Two officers and a Syrian regional governor confirmed the existence of these concealed rooms, details of which appear in photos seen by Reuters.

Hassan, who was Bashar’s military intelligence chief, has been tirelessly making calls and sending voice messages to commanders and advisors. In them, he seethes about his lost influence and outlines grandiose visions of how he would rule coastal Syria, home to the majority of Syria’s Alawite population and Assad’s former powerbase.

Makhlouf, a cousin of the Assads, once used his business empire to fund the ousted President during the civil war, only to run afoul of his more powerful relatives and wind up under years of house arrest. He now portrays himself in conversations and messages as a messianic figure who will return to power after ushering in an apocalyptic final battle.

Hassan and Makhlouf did not respond to requests for comment for this report. Bashar and Maher Assad couldn’t be reached. Reuters also sought comment from the Assad brothers through intermediaries, who didn’t reply.

From their exiles in Moscow, Hassan and Makhlouf envision a fractured Syria, and each wants control of the Alawite-majority areas.

Both have spent millions of dollars in competing efforts to build forces, Reuters found. Their deputies are located in several countries.

To counter the plotters, Syria’s new government is deploying another former Assad loyalist – a childhood friend of new President Ahmed al-Sharaa who became a paramilitary leader for Assad and then switched sides mid-war after the ousted President turned against him. The task of that man, Khaled al-Ahmad, is to persuade Alawite ex-soldiers and civilians that their future lies with the new Syria.

Details of the scheming are based on interviews with 48 people with direct knowledge of the competing plans. All spoke on condition of anonymity.

Reuters also reviewed financial records, operational documents, and exchanges of voice and text messages.

The governor of the coastal region of Tartous, Ahmed al-Shami, said Syrian authorities are aware of the outlines of the plans and ready to combat them. He confirmed the existence of the command-room network as well, but said it has been weakened.

“We are certain they cannot do anything effective, given their lack of strong tools on the ground and their weak capabilities,” al-Shami told Reuters in response to questions about the plotting.

The Lebanese Interior Ministry and the Russian Foreign Ministry did not respond to requests for comment. A UAE official said its government is committed to preventing the use of its territory for “all forms of illicit financial flows.”

For now, the prospects of a successful uprising seem low.

Chief plotters Hassan and Makhlouf are virulently at odds with one another.

Their hopes are fading to win backing from Russia, once Assad’s most powerful political and military supporter. Many Alawites in Syria, who also suffered under Assad, mistrust the pair. And the new government is working to stymie their plans.

In a brief statement in response to the Reuters findings, the government’s Alawite point man al-Ahmad said the “work of healing – of uprooting sectarian hatred and honoring the dead – remains the only path toward a Syria that can live with itself again.”

Hassan claims control of 12,000 fighters, while Makhlouf claims control of at least 54,000, according to their factions’ internal documents. Commanders on the ground said fighters are paid a pittance and taking money from both sides.

The exiles don't appear to have mobilized any forces yet. Reuters could not confirm the fighter figures or determine specific action plans. Tartous governor Al-Shami said potential fighters numbered in the tens of thousands.

In interviews, the people closest to the plotters said they’re aware that tens of thousands of Syrian Alawites could face violent retribution if they implement their plans against the new leadership.

In March, nearly 1,500 civilians were killed across the Mediterranean coast by government-affiliated forces after a failed uprising in an Alawite town.

Both Hassan and Makhlouf promise to protect Syria’s Alawites from the insecurity that has continued since March, including near-daily killings and kidnappings.

Neither Makhlouf nor Hassan were behind the protests, but rather a cleric who opposes both men and publicly called on people to demonstrate peacefully.

Makhlouf attacked the cleric the next day in a social media post, saying, “all these movements will only bring calamity, for the time is not yet right.”
One of Hassan’s top military coordinators told Reuters that fighting is the only way to restore Alawite dignity.

“We are lucky that only this number of our people have died so far,” said the coordinator, a former Assad-era military intelligence officer who is now in Lebanon. “Perhaps thousands more will die, but the sect must offer up sacrificial lambs” to defend the community.

According to January 2025 documents seen by Reuters, Assadist forces drew up initial plans to build a paramilitary force of 5,780 fighters and supply them from the subterranean command rooms. These are essentially large storerooms equipped with arms, solar power, internet, GPS units and walkie-talkies.

Nothing came of that early plan, and the command rooms – along a spine in coastal Syria about 180 kilometers from north to south – remain operational but essentially idle, according to two people with knowledge of them and photos seen by Reuters.

One photo showed a room with five stacked crates, three of which were open to reveal a collection of AK-47s, ammunition and hand grenades. The room also held three desktop computers, two tablets, a set of walkie-talkies, and a power bank. In the center was a wooden table topped with a large map.

For the plotters, “this network is Treasure Island, and they are all boats trying to reach it,” said one of the people, a commander who monitors the readiness of the rooms.

Al-Shami, the Tartous governor, said the network is real but poses little danger.

As senior military officials and ranking government figures escaped abroad in December 2024, many mid-level commanders remained in Syria. Most fled to the coastal regions dominated by Alawites, a Muslim minority that makes up a little over 10% of Syria’s population.

Those officers started recruiting fighters, according to a retired commander involved in the effort.

“The most fertile ground was the military,” the retired commander said. “Thousands of young men from the sect had been conscripted into the army, which was dissolved in December, and they suddenly found themselves exposed.”

Then came the failed uprising on March 6. An Alawite unit operating independently ambushed security forces from the new Syrian government in rural Latakia, killing 12 men and capturing more than 150, according to a brigadier general who was involved with the ambush and has since left for Lebanon.

The new Syrian government says hundreds of its security forces died in the fighting that followed – a claim largely echoed by the pro-Assad fighters.

The brigadier general said 128 pro-Assad forces died in the uprising, which was quelled by the new government. The insurgency sparked reprisals that killed nearly 1,500 Alawites.

The Assadist exiles neither started nor commanded the uprising, according to the officers who were there, but those days marked a turning point. They began to organize.

An Assad Family Feud
It was on March 9 that Makhlouf started calling himself “The Coast Boy,” declaring in a statement that he had been entrusted with a divine mission to help Alawites. “I’m back, and blessed be the return,” the statement read. It did not mention that he was in Moscow.

Makhlouf dominated Syria’s economy for more than two decades, with holdings estimated by the British government at well over a billion dollars in industries as varied as telecoms, construction and tourism. He used his money to fund Syrian army units and allied militias during the civil war, which broke out in 2011.

When Assad’s victory seemed assured in 2019, Makhlouf publicly claimed credit. Soon after, Assad seized Makhlouf’s businesses, ostensibly because they were indebted to the state, and put him under years of house arrest.

Makhlouf escaped to Lebanon in an ambulance the night of December 8, 2024, as Damascus fell to Sharaa’s rebels.

Makhlouf’s brother Ehab also tried to flee that night in his Maserati, but was shot to death near the border and robbed of millions of dollars he was carrying in cash, according to four close associates of the family and a customs officer with direct knowledge of the events. Reuters could not independently verify the events of that night.

Makhlouf now lives on a private floor in a luxurious Radisson hotel in Moscow under tight security, according to nine aides and relatives.

The Radisson in Moscow and group headquarters in Brussels did not respond to a request for comment.

According to Makhlouf’s Facebook posts and WhatsApp messages to associates, he believes God gave him money and influence so he can play a messianic role in a prophecy involving the battle of Armageddon in Damascus.
In his interpretation, the apocalypse will arrive after the end of US President Donald Trump’s term.

Using trusted business administrators three countries, Makhlouf is transferring money to Alawite officers for salaries and equipment, according to a financial manager and receipts and payroll tables seen by Reuters.

The documents show the money is funneled through two prominent Syrian officers who reunited with Makhlouf in Moscow: Suhail Hassan and Qahtan Khalil, who both held the rank of major general. Hassan and Khalil claimed to have created a force for Makhlouf totaling what they said were 54,053 willing fighters, including 18,000 officers, organized into 80 battalions and groups in and around the cities of Homs, Hama, Tartous and Latakia.

Many rank-and-file soldiers conscripted under Assad, however, gave up fighting when his government fell.

Hassan and Khalil didn’t reply to requests for comment about their role in transferring money.

An UAE official said the government maintains strict oversight over its economic sectors and fully “supports Syria’s efforts to safeguard its security, stability, and sovereignty over all territories.’

One of his financial managers told Reuters that Makhlouf has spent at least $6 million on salaries. Payroll tables and salary receipts created by financial aides to Makhlouf in Lebanon claimed he spent $976,705 in May, and that one group of 5,000 fighters received $150,000 in August.

The total force numbers are real, according to five leaders of military groups in Syria who are on Makhlouf’s payroll and lead about a fifth of his following. But Makhlouf’s funding falls short of their needs, amounting to just $20 to $30 a month per fighter.

In addition, Makhlouf’s staff has sought to provide weapons. They have mapped the possible location of dozens of caches hidden during the Assad era totaling a few thousand firearms, according to schematics Reuters viewed.

These stockpiles are separate from the hidden command rooms.

They have also been in discussions with smugglers in Syria for new weapons.

People familiar with the discussions said they didn’t know if new weapons were actually purchased or delivered.

Altogether, the five local military leaders said they command about 12,000 men in various stages of readiness. One of them told Reuters the time wasn’t yet right for action.

Another of the five commanders derided Makhlouf as trying to buy loyalty with “crumbs of money.”

All five said they had accepted money from both Makhlouf and Hassan, the spy chief. They saw no issue with overlapping paymasters.

Mass Grave and Hiding Atrocities
Hassan ran the Assad dictatorship’s military detention system, which was notorious for extorting money at scale from prisoners’ families, according to a 2024 United Nations report about the system.

A Reuters investigation this year found it was Hassan who proposed moving a mass grave containing thousands of bodies in 2018 to the Dhumair desert outside Damascus to hide the scope of the Assad government atrocities.

With Assad’s fall, Hassan took refuge in the Russian embassy in December 2024 for nearly two weeks.

He was infuriated at what he perceived as ill-treatment by his hosts, who provided a single room with just one hard chair to sit on, according to two people close to him.

“Kamal Hassan is not one to sit on a wooden chair for days!” he said in one WhatsApp voice message to his inner circle from this spring, reviewed by Reuters.

Hassan ultimately took up residence in a three-story villa in suburban Moscow, according to an officer who met him over the summer.

Since then, he has seen Maher al-Assad once and maintains close ties with Bashar’s Russian protectors, according to the two people aware of Hassan’s movements.

According to Hassan’s operations coordinator in Lebanon, Hassan has spent $1.5 million since March on 12,000 fighters in Syria and Lebanon.

“Be patient, my people, and don’t surrender your arms. I am the one who will restore your dignity,” he said in another WhatsApp voice message from April that appeared aimed at commanders. Two recipients confirmed the message was from him.

In mid-year, a charity called the “Development of Western Syria” announced its creation and said it was funded by “the Syrian citizen Maj. Gen. Kamal Hassan,” according to one of its initial Facebook posts.

Three officers linked to Hassan and a manager in the organization described it as a humanitarian cover so Hassan could build influence among Alawites.

In August, the charity paid $80,000 to shelter 40 Syrian Alawite families, according to an announcement of its first action. That same month, Hassan sent $200,000 in cash to 80 officers in Lebanon, according to a payroll document seen by Reuters.



Atef Najib in Court: Reconstructing the Story of the ‘First Spark’ in Syria’s Uprising

Atef Najib at the Damascus courthouse on April 26, 2026. (Reuters)
Atef Najib at the Damascus courthouse on April 26, 2026. (Reuters)
TT

Atef Najib in Court: Reconstructing the Story of the ‘First Spark’ in Syria’s Uprising

Atef Najib at the Damascus courthouse on April 26, 2026. (Reuters)
Atef Najib at the Damascus courthouse on April 26, 2026. (Reuters)

The arrest of schoolchildren in the southern Syrian city of Daraa in March 2011 is widely regarded as the spark that ignited the Syrian uprising. What began as a local incident evolved into nationwide protests and, eventually, a devastating civil war.

Fifteen years later, the case has resurfaced as Syrian authorities pursue accountability for abuses committed under Bashar al-Assad's regime, placing former Daraa Political Security Department chief Atef Najib at the center of one of the conflict’s defining episodes.

As transitional justice efforts gather pace under President Ahmed al-Sharaa’s government, the “Daraa children case” has become a key test of whether Syria’s judicial institutions can confront the legacy of arbitrary detention, systematic torture, and repression.

Asharq Al-Awsat interviewed two of the children detained at the time, now adults, whose testimonies revisit the events behind the slogan, “It’s your turn, Doctor”—a reference to Assad—that was scrawled by children on a school wall and became synonymous with the uprising’s beginning.

Fifteen years later, they said that the central question is no longer who wrote the slogan, but how it became the pretext for mass arrests and the torture of children.

Their accounts reconstruct the sequence of events while reinforcing the broader conclusion that what happened inside Syria’s security branches transformed a local incident into a turning point in the country’s history.

Naif Abazeed: Childhood in the interrogation cells

Naif Abazeed was 13 when he was arrested. His name has long been associated with writing the famous phrase, but he firmly rejects that claim.

He told Asharq Al-Awsat that the only graffiti he ever wrote was his own name and that of a friend on a wall at Daraa al-Balad Preparatory School in 2009.

He also disputed the widely circulated account placing the graffiti at Al-Arbaeen School, saying others appropriated his story while changing the location and timeline.

Abazeed said he never met Atef Najib. Instead, he identifies then-Col. Louay al-Ali as the officer who interrogated and tortured him.

While his testimony shifts attention to al-Ali’s direct role during the investigation, it does not absolve Najib. Rather, it distinguishes between the officer who conducted the interrogations and the security chief who commanded the apparatus responsible for the children’s detention.

Under international law, command responsibility extends beyond those who personally commit abuses to include superiors who knew, or should have known, about the violations and failed to prevent or punish them.

One of the children, now an adult, seen at the Al-Arbaeen School. (Getty Images)

Arrested at school

Abazeed recalled security officers arriving at his school after police had searched his home earlier that morning.

Al-Ali introduced himself as an education official investigating graffiti supposedly bearing the student’s name alongside that of a girlfriend.

Instead, the interrogation centered on the phrase, “It’s your turn, Doctor,” which had already been erased.

The boy was told he would be questioned briefly. Instead, he was taken to a Political Security Branch detention facility, where he said he was confronted with instruments of torture, beaten with cables and sticks, suspended, and forced into the “tire” stress position.

“I told them I had written nothing except my name in 2009,” he said. “The officer insisted I had written something else.”

Unable to withstand the abuse, Abazeed said he eventually confessed to something he had not done. He added that he only learned after his release that another student had actually written the phrase.

He also recounted being handed paper and ordered to write down everything that had appeared on the school walls. When the phrase was missing, the interrogator allegedly dictated it word by word while continuing to beat him until he repeated it in full. Only then did he understand that “Doctor” referred to President Bashar al-Assad.

The interrogation did not end there. Abazeed revealed that he was pressured to identify accomplices and, under torture, named classmates and neighbors, drawing more children into the investigation.

Demonstrators hold posters on the day Atef Najib, a brigadier general and former head of the Political Security Department in Daraa during Syria's ousted President Bashar al-Assad's rule, who is accused of committing war crimes, attends a trial session at the Palace of Justice, in Damascus, Syria, April 26, 2026. (Reuters)

Another victim’s testimony

Samer Ali al-Sayasneh, another child detained in 2011 after being accused of burning a police kiosk near Al-Arbaeen School, has also testified against Najib in court.

He holds Najib fully responsible for the escalation in Daraa, from arbitrary arrests to orders that led to the deadly shootings at Omari Mosque and a nearby gas station.

According to al-Sayasneh, no security branch would have acted without Najib’s authorization, making any attempt to exonerate him implausible.

The legal case

Lawyer Noha al-Masri told Asharq Al-Awsat that prosecutors are relying primarily on Syrian law, including Law No. 16 of 2022, provisions of the Syrian Penal Code, and Legislative Decree No. 20 of 2013.

She said the abuses committed in Daraa in March 2011 could also meet the international definition of crimes against humanity because they formed part of a widespread and systematic attack against civilians.

Al-Masri stressed that criminal responsibility extends beyond direct perpetrators to those who planned, ordered, supervised, or knowingly allowed the abuses to occur, reflecting the established principle of command responsibility under international humanitarian law.

She added that victims’ testimony, videos, medical reports, and official documents together could provide the foundation for one of the most significant trials in modern Syrian history - one likely to shape future accountability cases.

Syrian law also allows victims to seek compensation for the physical, psychological, material, and moral harm they suffered.

Strengthening the evidentiary record, she underlined, depends on corroborating witness testimony with videos, official documents, and medical and human rights reports.


Israel Struck an Iranian Steel Facility. Was it a Valid Military Target?

This video grab taken on April 3, 2026, from undated UGC images shared on social media on April 1, 2026, shows thick plumes of smoke rising following airstrikes in Baharestan, in Iran's central Isfahan province. (Photo by various sources / AFP)
This video grab taken on April 3, 2026, from undated UGC images shared on social media on April 1, 2026, shows thick plumes of smoke rising following airstrikes in Baharestan, in Iran's central Isfahan province. (Photo by various sources / AFP)
TT

Israel Struck an Iranian Steel Facility. Was it a Valid Military Target?

This video grab taken on April 3, 2026, from undated UGC images shared on social media on April 1, 2026, shows thick plumes of smoke rising following airstrikes in Baharestan, in Iran's central Isfahan province. (Photo by various sources / AFP)
This video grab taken on April 3, 2026, from undated UGC images shared on social media on April 1, 2026, shows thick plumes of smoke rising following airstrikes in Baharestan, in Iran's central Isfahan province. (Photo by various sources / AFP)

Washington: Yeganeh Torbati

Over the course of the Iran war, US and Israeli warplanes hit missile depots and launchers, security forces’ headquarters and air defense systems.

Yet not all of the targets during the six-week campaign were traditional military sites.

On March 27, and again a few days later, Israeli airstrikes pounded a vast steel complex just outside Isfahan called Mobarakeh Steel, and another one in the southwest of the country.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu asserted that his country’s strikes had slashed Iran’s steel production capacity and eliminated revenue for the powerful Revolutionary Guards, whose repression underpins the Iranian government.

Companies like Mobarakeh illustrate the complexities inherent to Iran’s economy. While Iran’s clerical leadership and security forces are deeply enmeshed in the country’s most profitable and important businesses, those same companies are vital to the livelihoods of millions of ordinary Iranians, regardless of whether they have deep ideological allegiance to the government.

The attacks shut down major parts of the Isfahan plant for weeks, idling over 20,000 workers and choking off the supply of steel to domestic manufacturers. “I felt like my own home had been destroyed,” said Mostafa, a former employee, who asked to speak on condition of anonymity to avoid retribution by the government.

The United States and Iran have lurched between peace talks and exchanges of fire in recent weeks. Their negotiations were expected to cover the economic benefits Iran might receive in return for long-term limits on its nuclear program.

The interim ceasefire agreement, signed last month, could result in as much as $300 billion for Iran’s reconstruction and economic development. But that now seems a distant prospect, after Trump said this week that he believed the temporary truce was “over.”

If any investment does flow to Iran, companies like Mobarakeh will undoubtedly come into focus because of their importance to Iran’s economy, as well as their affiliation with Iran’s most powerful security forces.

Trump has frequently threatened to attack Iranian infrastructure, and if war restarts, there will be scrutiny over any such strikes.

On Thursday, Iran’s Revolutionary Guards Corps accused the United States of striking a railway bridge that connected the country with Turkmenistan.

A spokesman for US Central Command confirmed that the United States struck the railway bridge, describing it as military logistics infrastructure that enabled a flow of weapons and other military supplies to key areas.

Mobarakeh has provided revenue to an investment fund belonging to a state-run militia, the Basij, which answers to the Guards, according to the US Treasury.

A 2021 report by Iran’s Parliament identified the investment fund as a major shareholder of Mobarakeh.

Recent financial statements from Mobarakeh show that its shareholders include an investment fund ultimately controlled by Iran’s supreme leader.

Although the statements do not show a link to the Guards, they often obscure their ownership through proxy investors.

In justifying the strikes on steel facilities, Netanyahu said they would deprive the regime “of both financial resources and the ability to produce many weapons.”

Mobarakeh executives did not respond to a request for comment, and it is unclear if the steel produced at Mobarakeh was used in making Iran’s weapon systems.

“Mobarakeh Steel products might not be directly used in missile production, but the company is most probably engaged in research and development of modern high-strength steel alloys for future large-scale production,” said Farzin Nadimi, a senior fellow with the Washington Institute and an expert on Iranian military affairs.

He added, “Mobarakeh Steel products, though, are more likely used in producing missile transporter-launcher vehicles.”

International law prohibits strikes on industrial sites that serve civilians, unless the facility makes an effective contribution to military action and striking it confers a definite military advantage, international law experts said.

The dominant international view rejects the idea that generating revenue for military operations is enough to qualify a civilian site as a military target, said Susana SaCouto, director of the War Crimes Research Office at American University’s Washington College of Law.

Miad Maleki, a former US Treasury official, said that while he believed the complex was a legitimate target for sanctions, he doubted that it should have been hit in military strikes.

“These are the Iranian people’s assets, and it’s going to hurt the economy even way beyond the Islamic republic,” he said.

“It does employ many people and pay salaries for many people,” Maleki added. “But at the same time, it’s really just a major source of revenue for a lot of corrupt actors.”

Opaque ownership

Built by an Italian business group, Mobarakeh became operational in 1992 and was a symbol of Iran’s industrial development and rebuilding after the Iran-Iraq War of the 1980s.

People with ties to the Revolutionary Guards moved into leadership positions at the plant starting in the late 1990s, two former employees said, declining to be named to avoid repercussions from Iran’s government.

For instance, Mehdi Taj, a former senior Guards commander, served on the complex’s board of directors and held an executive position there in the early 2000s.

Taj is now the director of Iran’s soccer federation, which did not respond to a request for comment.

And a privatization drive carried out in the mid-2000s transferred portions of state-owned companies, like Mobarakeh, to powerful and opaque players such as the Guards and conglomerates that answer to Iran’s clerical leadership.

In 2008, a consortium led by Mehr Eghtesad Iranian Investment Company, an outfit belonging to the Basij, purchased 45% of Mobarakeh’s shares.

As of 2021, Mehr Eghtesad was one of Mobarakeh’s largest shareholders, with a nearly 14% stake, according to a parliamentary report written that year.

The Basij is one of the primary forces that the regime deploys to suppress protests, including the recent nationwide demonstrations in December and January. Those protests arose over discontent with Iran’s currency crisis and perceived economic mismanagement by the government.

Mehr Eghtesad’s owner, a bank, in 2020 merged with another Iranian bank, Bank Sepah, which did not respond to a request for comment.

Mobarakeh earned roughly $1.6 billion in net profit in 2024-2025. The US Treasury said in 2018 that the company “has provided millions of dollars” annually to Mehr Eghtesad.

“Some part of the economy is run through the government, but some larger part of the economy is run through the shadow government or Revolutionary Guards,” said Mahdi Ghodsi, an economist at the Vienna Institute for International Economic Studies.

One relatively new shareholder of Mobarakeh, according to documents filed with the Tehran Stock Exchange, is a company belonging to Astan-e Quds-e Razavi, an Iranian foundation that the United States put sanctions on in 2021 for being controlled by Iran’s former supreme leader, Ali Khamenei. The company owned 1.79% of Mobarakeh as of last year.

Other major owners include several state-owned pension funds. Iran’s pension funds have been struggling for years to make payments to retirees, and the destruction of key sectors of the economy is likely to worsen that problem.

Iranian legislators investigated possible corruption by managers at Mobarakeh in 2021 and blamed many of its issues on the flawed process of privatization, saying it was “now governed by completely opaque ownership alongside entirely state-controlled management.”

A ‘beloved’ company

Interviews with some of the people who used to work at Mobarakeh present another image of the company.

For aspiring engineers growing up in Isfahan, working at Mobarakeh was a “dream job,” said Maryam, who now lives outside Iran. She and some other former employees whom The New York Times spoke to requested that they not be fully identified, for fear of repercussions for speaking publicly.

Some said they felt they were at a prestigious, state-of-the-art company that was contributing to the country and cared about their well-being.

“Even before I was born, my father was working in steel,” said Maziyar Shokrani, who, like his father, worked at Mobarakeh.

Shokrani began working there as a lawyer in the mid-2000s, taking a bus each day to the sprawling plant 40 miles outside Isfahan. “I know my entire life and existence to be from steel,” he said.

Mobarakeh also donated funds to build stadiums and educational institutions and supported poor families in the area surrounding the complex, said Mostafa, the former employee, who now lives outside Iran.

“It was beloved in that region,” Mostafa said. “Any industry that hit a snag, or any group that had a problem, they had some hope that Mobarakeh Steel would arrange for some kind of support.”

The Iranian news outlet Rouydad24 reported in early May that of 27,000 workers, just 2,000 were still working at the plant. Iranian officials have said that Mobarakeh is being rebuilt more quickly than expected, and in early June the company relaunched a furnace that had been damaged in the strikes.

In interviews, former employees had differing views about who was to blame for the strikes on Mobarakeh.

“More of the blame should be cast with the Guards, because it deliberately and consciously took the country’s economy down this path,” said Shokrani, who now lives outside Iran.

In the minds of Iranians, the United States and Israel were closely linked in their conduct of the war, said Abbas Kamranian-Marnani, a mechanical engineer who worked at Mobarakeh or its contractors for a decade and now lives in Europe. “They worked mostly toward the destruction of infrastructure and the destruction of Iran,” he said.

Kamranian-Marnani said strikes like the one on the steel plant had caused Iranians to lose hope in the idea of better relations with the United States.

A senior US military official, speaking on condition of anonymity to discuss operational matters, said they did not know of any US role in the steel strikes.

The New York Times


Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa: The Emir Who Transformed Qatar

Former Qatari Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Former Qatari Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani (Asharq Al-Awsat)
TT

Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa: The Emir Who Transformed Qatar

Former Qatari Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani (Asharq Al-Awsat)
Former Qatari Emir Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani (Asharq Al-Awsat)

With the passing of the Father Emir, Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, Qatar closes the chapter on one of the Gulf region's most significant political and development success stories of recent decades. His name became synonymous with the most profound transformation in the country's modern history, as Qatar evolved during his reign from a state with a limited international profile into an influential player in regional and global politics, economics, and media.

Sheikh Hamad is widely regarded as one of Qatar's defining leaders and the architect of its modern renaissance. Under his leadership, the country underwent sweeping economic, social, and cultural transformation. During his reign, Qatar's gross domestic product expanded more than twenty-fourfold, while GDP per capita increased nearly sixfold.

Born in Doha in 1952, Sheikh Hamad graduated from the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst in 1971. He then joined the armed forces, rising through the military ranks before being appointed Crown Prince and Minister of Defense in 1977. On June 27, 1995, he assumed power, and in June 2013 handed authority to his son, Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani, in a smooth transfer of power widely regarded as one of the region's rare peaceful successions.

A Strong Economy

Sheikh Hamad's economic strategy centered on harnessing Qatar's vast natural gas wealth to build a strong and diversified economy. During his years in power, the country's GDP grew dramatically, average incomes rose sharply, and exports of liquefied natural gas ushered in a new era in Qatar's history. Following the first LNG shipment in 1996, Qatar became the world's largest exporter of liquefied natural gas by 2006, generating enormous revenues that financed major investments in infrastructure, education, healthcare, and public services.

Expanding Qatar's International Role

On the international stage, Qatar adopted a far more active foreign policy, positioning itself as a mediator in a number of regional and international conflicts. Among its most prominent diplomatic efforts were its role in Lebanon during the 2006 war and the country's political crisis in 2008.

Qatar also took a leading role in supporting the Palestinian cause, particularly through economic assistance to the Gaza Strip and by providing a platform for negotiations aimed at ending the conflict there. In 2012, Sheikh Hamad became the first Arab leader to visit Gaza after Hamas took control of the territory.

He also forged close strategic ties with the United States. During his reign, Al Udeid Air Base was established in 1996. Qatar financed almost the entire construction of the base, at a cost exceeding $1 billion, as part of a strategy to strengthen its defense capabilities and deepen military cooperation with the United States following the Gulf War. By 2002, it had become one of the most important US. military bases outside the United States.

Qatar also participated in the international conference supporting post-Gaddafi Libya in Paris. During Sheikh Hamad's rule, Doha became a major supporter of the Syrian cause, providing extensive political and humanitarian backing to the Syrian opposition, an approach that continued in subsequent years.

Beginning in the mid-1990s, Qatar pursued a foreign policy built on relative neutrality and open channels with opposing parties, allowing it to serve as a mediator in regional and international disputes. Over time, this approach became one of the country's most effective instruments of soft power, transforming Doha into a permanent venue for negotiations and political dialogue.

Today, the Qatari capital is widely recognized as one of the world's leading hubs for mediation and conflict resolution, a role first established under Sheikh Hamad and later expanded during the reign of Sheikh Tamim.

Soft Power

Just one year after assuming power, Sheikh Hamad launched the Al Jazeera Media Network in 1996. The network quickly became one of the Arab world's most influential media platforms, giving Qatar an outsized voice in regional political discourse. As the Arab world underwent profound political change, Al Jazeera emerged as one of Qatar's most powerful instruments of influence, elevating the country's international profile far beyond its geographic size.

The World Cup

Qatar's hosting of the 2022 FIFA World Cup was far more than a sporting event. It was a strategic national project and a defining milestone that reshaped the country's standing on the global stage.

By hosting football's biggest tournament, Qatar became both the first Arab nation and the first Middle Eastern country to stage the World Cup, earning unprecedented global visibility across the media, political, and economic spheres while reinforcing its image as a nation capable of organizing events of the highest international caliber.

The tournament also became one of Qatar's most effective soft power tools. Rather than relying solely on traditional forms of influence, Doha used sport to strengthen its international image, showcase its organizational capabilities, and capture the world's attention.

Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani leaves behind a lasting legacy in Qatar's modern history. His name is inseparable from the country's transformation from an economy largely dependent on natural resources into a state wielding influence through a diverse set of instruments, including economic strength, global investment, media, diplomacy, and sport.

Many of the defining features of Qatar's current policies remain rooted in the foundations he laid during his years in power, making his legacy one of the Gulf region's most significant political and developmental transformations in recent decades.