Exclusive: Yemen’s ‘Dark Horse’ Tries to Re-enter the Race

Houthis sit in the back of a pick-up truck in the Yemeni capital Sana’a on December 2, 2017, during clashes with supporters of Yemeni ex-president Ali Abdullah Saleh. Mohammed HUWAIS / AFP
Houthis sit in the back of a pick-up truck in the Yemeni capital Sana’a on December 2, 2017, during clashes with supporters of Yemeni ex-president Ali Abdullah Saleh. Mohammed HUWAIS / AFP
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Exclusive: Yemen’s ‘Dark Horse’ Tries to Re-enter the Race

Houthis sit in the back of a pick-up truck in the Yemeni capital Sana’a on December 2, 2017, during clashes with supporters of Yemeni ex-president Ali Abdullah Saleh. Mohammed HUWAIS / AFP
Houthis sit in the back of a pick-up truck in the Yemeni capital Sana’a on December 2, 2017, during clashes with supporters of Yemeni ex-president Ali Abdullah Saleh. Mohammed HUWAIS / AFP

For decades it was impossible to travel anywhere in Yemen without seeing the image of a black steed in full trot towards the unknown.

The image was the logo of the General People’s Congress, the political party founded in 1982 by President Ali Abdullah Saleh in Sana’a in what was then North Yemen. The “black steed” went even further when North Yemen virtually annexed South Yemen in 1990 in a scheme that Saleh promoted as “national unification.”

But what did the back steed symbolize? When put the question to Saleh in one of our meetings in his palace in Sana’a, he seemed to hesitate. Maybe the steed symbolized the mount used by the Queen of Sheba to travel to her rendezvous with Solomon, I quipped.

In reality, however, what the black steed reflected most may have been Saleh himself who had been the “dark horse” of Yemen’s tumultuous politics since 1974.

For almost four decades Colonel Saleh, later self-promoted to general, has been the unexpected gate-crasher in successive power struggles, often bloody, in a land that is an abyss of misery and beauty. Each time, he was written off as a spent force, a yesterday’s man and, each time, he managed to bounce back to claim a place in the deadly fight over Yemen’s future.

This is what happened again this week as Saleh decided that his “patience” with his erstwhile allies, the Iran-backed Houthis, has run out and that it was time for a divorce negotiated through gunfights in an already badly wounded Sana’a.

But what is Saleh’s real political weight?

In the early part of his politico-military career he was no more than part of an entourage of the “strongman” of the moment. We first caught a glimpse of him in 1974 when Colonel Ibrahim al-Hamdi staged a coup against President Abdul-Rahman al-Iryani and formed a Military Command Council to rule North Yemen.

Hamdi became a close friend of Iran under the Shah and Iranian intelligence identified Saleh as a “dark horse” suspected of harboring “pan-Arab” sentiments.
However, when Hamdi was brutally assassinated, it was not Saleh that came to the fore but Hamdi’s alleged murderer Colonel Ahmad Hussein al-Gashmi.

Saleh remained “the dark horse” lurking in the shadows of the military leadership until 1978 when it became Ghashmi’s turn to be assassinated. A month after the assassination, Saleh “the dark horse” emerged from the shadows to assume a presidency that many thought had become a death sentence.

The proverb “never two without three” didn’t come true in Saleh’s case as he proved wrong those who though that he, too, would be assassinated like his two immediate predecessors.

When we first met Saleh, he claimed that his chief aim was to create “modern stable state institutions” in a country still dominated by medieval codes and tribal politics. By 1982, Saleh thought that he had made enough progress in that direction to launch his own political party. The General People’s Congress was born as a coalition of different and, at times, antagonistic groups, parties and clienteles whose chief common point was the acceptance of Saleh as president.

In one sense, the Congress was no different from similar structures launched in several other Arab countries, notably Egypt, Syria and Iraq all of which experienced one-party rule. However, the Congress was different from Nasser’s Arab Socialist Party or the Ba’athist outfits under Hafez al-Assad or Saddam Hussein in one important respect: It had no codified ideology. Thus, it could pose as nationalist, socialist or even liberal according to the mood of the moment and the tactical calculations of the president.

The party’s chief function was to operate as a political machine for distribution of posts and favors, and, as time went by, fruits of corruption. Last but not least, it had to ensure success in presidential and parliamentary elections. All in all, the Congress played the role assigned to it with great efficiency even after unification with South Yemen in 1990.

The civil war shook the Congress to its foundations and, if it managed to survive, was largely due to deals made between Saleh and powerful tribal chiefs in the north.

The Congress suffered from several major weaknesses from the start.

First, it never managed to attract loyalty on its own accounts and in addition to, if not actually away, from the person of Ali Abdullah Saleh.

Next, Saleh’s erratic decision-making and his habit of shifting positions like a weather vane made it impossible for the Congress to develop its own political profile or appeal to larger audiences on key issues of policy.

Thirdly, the Congress remained basically regional in the sense that it did not substantially grow beyond its original base in the north.

Despite the disappearance of leftist factions in the former South Yemen, which created new space for action, the Congress failed to strike roots in the former sultanates of southern Arabia. In Hadhramaut, for example, its appeal remained limited to senior officials sent from Sana’a.

Nevertheless, it would be wrong to write off the Congress altogether. Nor could one dismiss Saleh as the day-before-yesterday’s man. The Congress still represents many bureaucratic, political, business and tribal elements often tied together through clan backgrounds and old alliances. Saleh himself is no longer “the dark horse” likely to ride into center-stage.

But, as the Houthis, who have tried to eliminate him may have realized, nor is he the doormat over which they could walk into absolute power in the enclave in north Yemen. Whatever the ultimate shape and taste of the witches’ brew in Yemen, Saleh and the General People’s Congress are likely to remain among the ingredients.



To Get Their Own Cash, People in Gaza Must Pay Middlemen a 40% Cut

A destroyed branch of the Bank of Palestine in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City is seen Wednesday, July 9, 2025. (AP)
A destroyed branch of the Bank of Palestine in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City is seen Wednesday, July 9, 2025. (AP)
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To Get Their Own Cash, People in Gaza Must Pay Middlemen a 40% Cut

A destroyed branch of the Bank of Palestine in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City is seen Wednesday, July 9, 2025. (AP)
A destroyed branch of the Bank of Palestine in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City is seen Wednesday, July 9, 2025. (AP)

Cash is the lifeblood of the Gaza Strip’s shattered economy, and like all other necessities in this war-torn territory — food, fuel, medicine — it is in extremely short supply.

With nearly every bank branch and ATM inoperable, people have become reliant on an unrestrained network of powerful cash brokers to get money for daily expenses and commissions on those transactions have soared to about 40%.

"The people are crying blood because of this," said Ayman al-Dahdouh, a school director living in Gaza City. "It’s suffocating us, starving us."

At a time of surging inflation, high unemployment and dwindling savings, the scarcity of cash has magnified the financial squeeze on families — some of whom have begun to sell their possessions to buy essential goods.

The cash that is available has even lost some of its luster. Palestinians use the Israeli currency, the shekel, for most transactions. Yet with Israel no longer resupplying the territory with newly printed bank notes, merchants are increasingly reluctant to accept frayed bills.

Gaza’s punishing cash crunch has several root causes, experts say.

To curtail Hamas’ ability to purchase weapons and pay its fighters, Israel stopped allowing cash to enter Gaza at the start of the war. Around the same time, many wealthy families in Gaza withdrew their money from banks and then fled the territory. And rising fears about Gaza’s financial system prompted foreign businesses selling goods into the territory to demand cash payments.

As Gaza’s money supply dwindled and civilians’ desperation mounted, cash brokers' commissions — around 5% at the start of the war — skyrocketed.

Someone needing cash transfers money electronically to a broker and moments later is handed a fraction of that amount in bills. Many brokers openly advertise their services, while others are more secretive. Some grocers and retailers have also begun exchanging cash for their customers.

"If I need $60, I need to transfer $100," said Mohammed Basheer al-Farra, who lives in southern Gaza after being displaced from Khan Younis. "This is the only way we can buy essentials, like flour and sugar. We lose nearly half of our money just to be able to spend it."

In 2024, inflation in Gaza surged by 230%, according to the World Bank. It dropped slightly during the ceasefire that began in January, only to shoot up again after Israel backed out of the truce in March.

Cash touches every aspect of life in Gaza

About 80% of people in Gaza were unemployed at the end of 2024, according to the World Bank, and the figure is likely higher now. Those with jobs are mostly paid by direct deposits into their bank accounts.

But "when you want to buy vegetables, food, water, medication -- if you want to take transportation, or you need a blanket, or anything — you must use cash," al-Dahdouh said.

Shahid Ajjour’s family has been living off of savings for two years after the pharmacy and another business they owned were ruined by the war.

"We had to sell everything just to get cash," said Ajjour, who sold her gold to buy flour and canned beans. The family of eight spends the equivalent of $12 every two days on flour; before the war, that cost less than $4.

Sugar is very expensive, costing the equivalent of $80-$100 per kilogram (2.2 pounds), multiple people said; before the war, that cost less than $2.

Gasoline is about $25 a liter, or roughly $95 a gallon, when paying the lower, cash price.

Bills are worn and unusable

The bills in Gaza are tattered after 21 months of war.

Money is so fragile, it feels as if it is going to melt in your hands, said Mohammed al-Awini, who lives in a tent camp in southern Gaza.

Small business owners said they were under pressure to ask customers for undamaged cash because their suppliers demand pristine bills from them.

Thaeir Suhwayl, a flour merchant in Deir al-Balah, said his suppliers recently demanded he pay them only with brand new 200-shekel ($60) bank notes, which he said are rare. Most civilians pay him with 20-shekel ($6) notes that are often in poor condition.

On a recent visit to the market, Ajjour transferred the shekel equivalent of around $100 to a cash broker and received around $50 in return. But when she tried to buy some household supplies from a merchant, she was turned away because the bills weren’t in good condition.

"So the worth of your $50 is zero in the end," she said.

This problem has given rise to a new business in Gaza: money repair. It costs between 3 and 10 shekels ($1-$3) to mend old bank notes. But even cash repaired with tape or other means is sometimes rejected.

People are at the mercy of cash brokers

After most of the banks closed in the early days of the war, those with large reserves of cash suddenly had immense power.

"People are at their mercy," said Mahmoud Aqel, who has been displaced from his home in southern Gaza. "No one can stop them."

The war makes it impossible to regulate market prices and exchange rates, said Dalia Alazzeh, an expert in finance and accounting at the University of the West of Scotland. "Nobody can physically monitor what’s happening," Alazzeh said.

A year ago, the Palestine Monetary Authority, the equivalent of a central bank for Gaza and the West Bank, sought to ease the crisis by introducing a digital payment system known as Iburaq. It attracted half a million users, or a quarter of the population, according to the World Bank, but was ultimately undermined by merchants insisting on cash.

Israel sought to ramp up financial pressure on Hamas earlier this year by tightening the distribution of humanitarian aid, which it said was routinely siphoned off by militants and then resold.

Experts said it is unclear if the cash brokers’ activities benefit Hamas, as some Israeli analysts claim.

The war has made it more difficult to determine who is behind all sorts of economic activity in the territory, said Omar Shabaan, director of Palthink for Strategic Studies, a Gaza-based think tank.

"It's a dark place now. You don't know who is bringing cigarettes into Gaza," he said, giving just one example. "It's like a mafia."

These same deep-pocketed traders are likely the ones running cash brokerages, and selling basic foodstuffs, he said. "They benefit by imposing these commissions," he said.

Once families run out of cash, they are forced to turn to humanitarian aid.

Al-Farra said that is what prompted him to begin seeking food at an aid distribution center, where it is common for Palestinians to jostle over one other for sacks of flour and boxes of pasta.

"This is the only way I can feed my family," he said.