When Hafez al-Assad Opened Lebanon’s Gate to Tehran

Hafez al-Assad made it easier for Khamenei to consolidate control over Lebanon through Hezbollah. (AFP)
Hafez al-Assad made it easier for Khamenei to consolidate control over Lebanon through Hezbollah. (AFP)
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When Hafez al-Assad Opened Lebanon’s Gate to Tehran

Hafez al-Assad made it easier for Khamenei to consolidate control over Lebanon through Hezbollah. (AFP)
Hafez al-Assad made it easier for Khamenei to consolidate control over Lebanon through Hezbollah. (AFP)

One week after the Iranian Revolution declared victory on February 11, 1979, two photographs emerged from Tehran that, in retrospect, help explain many of the storms that would later sweep the Middle East, from Iran’s expanding regional influence to what the author calls “Sinwar’s Flood."

In the first image, two men sit side by side on a carpet. It is impossible to tell the story of the modern Middle East without dwelling on both of them. One is Ayatollah Khomeini, the architect of the Iranian Revolution. The other is Yasser Arafat, the founder of the modern Palestinian national movement.

Standing near Arafat are the Lebanese cleric Hani Fahs, the Iranian cleric Sadegh Khalkhali, and Ahmad Khomeini, the revolutionary leader’s son. Near Khomeini stand Mahmoud Abbas — today president of the Palestinian Authority — and Hani al-Hassan, a senior Fatah leader who would become the first Palestinian ambassador to revolutionary Iran.

In the second photograph, Arafat is shown addressing a crowd after the Palestinian flag was raised over the building that had housed the Israeli embassy in Tehran.

Arafat and Khomeini, with Mahmoud Abbas standing next to his right.

The symbolism of those scenes was profound. During his long years in exile in Najaf, Khomeini had understood that Palestine was the magic word that opened Arab and Muslim hearts. He may have believed that embracing the Palestinian cause would provide a passport for a Shiite revolution seeking entry into the vast Sunni world. It was natural that Tehran would celebrate Arafat, whose legitimacy was unrivaled after he had become the global symbol of the Palestinian struggle. It was equally natural that Arafat would welcome Iran’s dramatic shift from a state aligned with Israel to one proclaiming full support for the Palestinian revolution.

As always, Arafat lavished praise on his hosts. Yet experience had taught him not to surrender his cards to anyone. He had spent years dealing with powerful leaders who sought to use the Palestinian cause either to legitimize their own regimes or to project influence far beyond their borders.

Palestine was not Arafat’s only asset. He operated on Israel’s border through southern Lebanon, a frontier that had effectively become a Palestinian-Israeli border before eventually evolving into an Iranian-Israeli one. Although Lebanon at the time lay under the domination of Hafez al-Assad and the Syrian army — and despite Assad’s deep hostility toward Arafat — the Palestinian leader still controlled the decision of war and peace in southern Lebanon. That authority would later pass to Hassan Nasrallah, the late secretary-general of Hezbollah.

Arafat quickly grasped the sensitivities surrounding relations with Iran. Here was a Shiite revolution emerging in a predominantly Sunni world. The new regime’s commitment to “exporting the revolution” alarmed governments near and far. When the Iran-Iraq War erupted, Arafat attempted to play the role of mediator. He recalibrated his calculations, preserving room for strong relations with the Gulf Arab states, whose financial support remained indispensable to the Palestinian movement.

Any reading of 1979 must also account for another major development. That year Egypt completed its departure from the military front of the Arab-Israeli conflict. The process culminated in the signing of the Camp David Accords by Egyptian President Anwar Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin under the sponsorship of US President Jimmy Carter. The agreement completed the geopolitical earthquake Sadat had triggered in 1977 when he traveled to Jerusalem and offered peace to Israel.

Egypt’s departure left a vacuum in the Arab world. That vacuum made it easier for Khomeini’s revolution to advance across the region.

Beginning in 1990, Iran would receive three major unintended gifts. The first came from Saddam Hussein when he invaded Kuwait and redirected global attention toward the “Iraqi threat.” The second came from Osama bin Laden, whose attacks of September 11, 2001, focused the world on al-Qaeda terrorism. The third arrived when the United States toppled Iraq’s Baathist regime in 2003, allowing Iranian influence to flow into Iraq’s institutions and political structure.

What many overlooked was that Iran had already received two crucial gifts during the 1980s from Syrian President Hafez al-Assad.

The first came after Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon. Assad agreed to allow hundreds of members of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps to enter Lebanon’s Beqaa Valley and train Lebanese Shiite Islamist groups seeking to organize resistance against Israeli occupation. From those groups, Hezbollah would eventually emerge.

The second gift arrived in the mid-1980s, when Assad decided to subordinate the Lebanese National Resistance Front — known by its Arabic acronym, Jammoul — to the Islamic resistance led by Hezbollah.

Elias Atallah, one of Jammoul’s coordinators, later recounted to Asharq Al-Awsat a dramatic meeting that preceded a series of assassinations targeting Communist Party leaders.

According to Atallah, Syrian intelligence chief in Lebanon Major General Ghazi Kanaan summoned him and Lebanese Communist Party Secretary-General George Hawi to an urgent meeting at a hotel in the Beqaa Valley.

Speaking on behalf of “Mr. President,” Kanaan bluntly informed them that Jammoul must coordinate its operations in advance with Syrian intelligence. He demanded more than that. Jammoul, he said, should coordinate with Hezbollah, or even merge with it.

The two men refused. Relations between the Communist Party and Hezbollah were already extremely tense. Kanaan abruptly ended the meeting with a warning: “You will pay a heavy price.”

A campaign of assassinations followed, targeting prominent communist figures. Kanaan scarcely concealed his satisfaction. At one funeral, he reportedly approached party members and remarked: “Is this better?”

An undated photo of Nasrallah during his youth. (Iran supreme leader’s office)

The Syrian intervention dealt a devastating blow to the leftist resistance. Islamic resistance became the sole banner of armed struggle against Israel. Hezbollah reaped the benefits. In 2000, Israeli forces withdrew from southern Lebanon under fire and without extracting political concessions from Beirut. Iran now stood on Israel’s northern frontier through Hezbollah.

After the fall of Saddam Hussein, the road linking Tehran to Beirut through Baghdad and Damascus opened fully. What some called the “Axis of Resistance” and others the “Shiite Crescent” had taken shape.

At the beginning of the 1980s, many believed Saddam Hussein’s war had trapped the embers of Khomeini’s revolution within Iran’s borders. Then, in June 1982, an unexpected window opened.

Israel invaded Lebanon, besieged Beirut, and forced the Palestine Liberation Organization to leave the country. The image of Beirut bidding farewell to Yasser Arafat as he departed into another exile marked the end of an era.

Amid the invasion, George Hawi, Elias Atallah, Mohsen Ibrahim — the secretary-general of the Organization of Communist Action in Lebanon — and several comrades launched the Lebanese National Resistance Front against Israeli occupation. Their operations forced Israeli troops to withdraw quickly from Beirut.

At the same time, three Shiite Islamist groups inspired by Iran’s revolution entered discussions aimed at creating a unified resistance movement. The talks produced what became known as the “Document of the Nine,” which was taken to Tehran and received Khomeini’s blessing. He instructed the Revolutionary Guards to support the unity of these groups, which would eventually dissolve into Hezbollah.

Hezbollah’s current secretary-general, Naim Qassem, later recounted the organization’s founding in his book Hezbollah: The Method, the Experience, the Future. He identified the movement’s three pillars as Islam as a way of life, resistance to Israel as the highest priority, and allegiance to Wilayat al-Faqih as the ultimate reference point.

Hafez al-Assad often told visitors that the Iranian Revolution compensated for the strategic loss of Egypt. Those familiar with his thinking, however, suggest additional motives.

He was deeply hostile to Saddam Hussein. He also believed that Gulf Arab concerns about revolutionary Iran would make Syria indispensable to the Gulf states, bringing political and financial advantages. Allowing Hezbollah to grow in Lebanon fit neatly into that calculation.

Hezbollah was born under the mantle of the Wilayat al-Faqih and on the front line with Israel. It soon found itself on a front line with the United States as well.

In October 1983, a suicide bomber drove a truck packed with explosives into the US Marine barracks in Beirut, sending a convoy of coffins back to Ronald Reagan’s America.

Syria later played a crucial role in exempting Hezbollah from the disarmament provisions imposed on Lebanese militias after the Taif Agreement. Iran spared no effort in supporting the movement, enabling it to build a steadily expanding military and political force. Together, Tehran and Damascus also helped consolidate the Lebanese Shiite political order, bringing Hezbollah into partnership with the Amal Movement, led by Nabih Berri, who has served as speaker of parliament since 1992.

Old conflicts between Amal and Hezbollah gradually faded. Berri became a nearly permanent necessity for Hezbollah, helping shield it from political isolation, though never fundamentally altering its deeper ideological program.

The first decade of the twenty-first century produced scenes whose consequences extended far beyond their immediate settings. On April 9, 2003, an American armored vehicle pulled down Saddam Hussein’s statue in Baghdad’s Firdos Square. The man whose statues inspired fear simply by their presence was denied the final showdown he had imagined. The army that had fought Iran for eight years evaporated before the American military machine.

From left to right: Qasem Soleimani, Hassan Nasrallah and Ali Khamenei. (Iran supreme leader’s office)

Saddam was not far from Firdos Square when his statue fell. He chose resistance, badly misjudging both American power and the depth of Iraqi opposition to his rule.

Another defining image followed.

On December 13, 2003, Saddam was captured by US forces near Tikrit. Soldiers pulled him from a small underground hideout on a farm in al-Dawr. Television screens around the world carried the image of an American soldier inspecting the former Iraqi president’s mouth. He offered no resistance. Stories that he always carried a final bullet to avoid the humiliation of capture proved false.

Yet Saddam, obsessed with his place in history, succeeded in shaping part of his legacy. He denied the legitimacy of the court trying him and repeatedly insisted that he remained Iraq’s lawful president. Judge Raouf Rashid Abdel Rahman, who presided over the tribunal that sentenced Saddam to death, later told the author that “he was a difficult man, but he never asked for anything for himself.”

Saddam remained composed when the noose was placed around his neck.

The new Iraqi authorities made a grave mistake by scheduling the execution for December 30, 2006, the first day of Eid al-Adha. Another error followed. According to former Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, Saddam’s body was brought to his residence in Baghdad’s Green Zone after the execution, where Maliki briefly viewed it and reproached the dead man.

The images of Saddam’s capture, trial, and execution — combined with other factors — helped inflame Sunni-Shiite tensions inside Iraq and beyond. For many Iraqis, regardless of Saddam’s crimes, the execution appeared less like justice than revenge carried out on behalf of the United States, Iran, and Iraq’s pro-Iranian opposition.

Qassem Soleimani would soon devote himself to destabilizing the American military presence in Iraq, aided by Bashar al-Assad and Hassan Nasrallah.

Then another dramatic event emerged from Beirut.

On February 14, 2005, former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri was assassinated in a massive explosion that tore through Beirut and scattered his body across the scene. The murder shook Lebanon like an earthquake. Huge crowds poured into the streets demanding the withdrawal of Syrian troops, which had been stationed in Lebanon since 1976.

Later that month, the author met Bashar al-Assad in Damascus and repeatedly asked whether Syrian security services had been involved.

Assad categorically denied any connection.

“Not from near or far,” he insisted.

Yet questions multiplied. Had he spoken with such certainty because he knew who was responsible?

The international investigation wandered through years of political interference, misinformation, and false witnesses. Eventually, the Special Tribunal for Lebanon indicted members of Hezbollah.

British soldiers are seen in Iraq’s Basra on April 7, 2003. (AFP)

The case generated enduring questions. Was Hariri killed on the fault line between Sunnis and Shiites? Was he eliminated because of regional rivalries? Was he seen as an obstacle to a broader strategic project? Was he punished for trying to restore Lebanon as a normal state rather than leave it a missile platform in the conflict with Israel?

Hariri’s assassination transformed both Lebanon and Syria.

Bashar al-Assad was forced to swallow the bitter pill of withdrawing Syrian troops from Lebanon, a country his father had dominated for decades. Hafez al-Assad had bent much of Lebanon’s political class to his will and established the rules of the Syrian era. Governments bore the fingerprints of Syrian intelligence officers. Parliament was summoned and complied.

That era exiled General Michel Aoun and imprisoned Samir Geagea.

One major figure remained: Rafik Hariri. He had accepted operating under the Syrian umbrella but never abandoned his dream of rebuilding a functioning Lebanese state. His growing domestic, Arab, and international stature worried the narrow circle around Assad, and later worried Hezbollah as well.

Syria lost its Lebanese foothold, a platform that had amplified its influence and enriched many of its officers.

What followed was a Syria trapped within its own borders, relying on coercion and burdened by economic failure, while Lebanon became polarized between the March 14 movement and the March 8 alliance led by Hezbollah.

Many believe these developments helped set the stage for the July 2006 war between Hezbollah and Israel, a conflict in which Qasem Soleimani played an active role behind the scenes.

After the war, Bashar al-Assad openly emphasized the importance of Syria’s strategic depth for Hezbollah. He even acknowledged that Syrian soldiers in civilian clothing had transported missiles to the movement and sometimes all the way to southern Lebanon.

United Nations Security Council Resolution 1701 ended the war, deploying the Lebanese Army alongside UNIFIL forces in southern Lebanon. The conflict partially altered the political landscape created after Hariri’s assassination and gave Hezbollah another justification for retaining its arsenal.

Many Lebanese politicians fundamentally misunderstood Hezbollah and its weapons. They assumed that Israel’s withdrawal from Lebanon should have been enough for the movement to disarm, just as other militias had done after Taif. They overlooked the regional dimension of Hezbollah’s arsenal and its connection to Iran’s broader project.

In May 2008, Prime Minister Fouad Siniora’s government challenged Hezbollah’s private telecommunications network, declaring it illegal. The response was swift. Hezbollah turned its weapons inward and effectively seized control of Beirut, sending a clear message: the arsenal was here to stay.

The episode inflicted a deep wound on relations between Hezbollah’s community and many other Lebanese groups.

When the first spark of the Arab Spring erupted in Tunisia on December 17, 2010, Bashar al-Assad felt little concern. He believed Syria was different. More likely, his confidence reflected faith in a vast security apparatus whose brutality would deter dissent.

On March 15, 2011, Assad’s security services dealt with the children of Daraa according to that same doctrine of repression. Protests spread and became a nationwide uprising.

Assad showed little genuine interest in compromise. His generals viewed the revolt through the lens of minority insecurity and foreign conspiracy. The regime escalated from repression to barrel bombs and chemical weapons.

As opposition forces approached Assad’s presidential palace, two men rushed to his rescue: Qassem Soleimani and Hassan Nasrallah.

Iran had no intention of allowing Syria — the central link in its regional axis — to be torn away.

Rafik al-Hariri’s assassination was a turning point that allowed Iran to impose control over Lebanon. (AFP)

Soleimani persuaded Russian President Vladimir Putin to commit Russian air power to Assad’s defense. Hezbollah deployed fighters into Syria in 2013, while militias organized by Soleimani poured into the battlefield.

The regime survived. The cost was enormous.

The intervention deepened Sunni-Shiite wounds that remain visible today, not least in the rhetoric that dominates Syrian social media.

Years later in Paris, after defecting from Bashar al-Assad’s regime, former Syrian Vice President Abdul Halim Khaddam remarked that Hafez al-Assad could never have imagined Iranian influence in Lebanon growing to such an extent, or that his son would one day depend on pro-Iranian militias, including Hezbollah, to save his rule.

By then, Hezbollah was widely described as a regional force too large to fit within Lebanon’s political equation.

The author recalls a conversation with former Yemeni President Ali Abdullah Saleh before the end of the decade. In his characteristic style, Saleh asked: “Why is Hezbollah taking young Houthis to Damascus, sending them on to Lebanon without passport stamps, and training them in camps in the Bekaa Valley?”

The question hinted at a wider regional project already taking shape.

When Hezbollah launched its support front for “Sinwar’s Flood,” and later its support front for Iran itself, many Lebanese were reminded that their country had been living under the echo of Iranian power since the 1980s.

By the second decade of the twenty-first century, talk circulated within the so-called Resistance Axis of a coming “major blow” - a strike that many believed Yahya Sinwar dreamt of delivering through a rain of rockets and drones launched from multiple fronts across the region.



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)
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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)
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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)
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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.