Exclusive: Why Iran’s Intervention in Syria Proved so Costly

Syrian regime soldiers walk down a street in the town of Al-Mohammadiyeh, east of the capital Damascus. AFP file photo
Syrian regime soldiers walk down a street in the town of Al-Mohammadiyeh, east of the capital Damascus. AFP file photo
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Exclusive: Why Iran’s Intervention in Syria Proved so Costly

Syrian regime soldiers walk down a street in the town of Al-Mohammadiyeh, east of the capital Damascus. AFP file photo
Syrian regime soldiers walk down a street in the town of Al-Mohammadiyeh, east of the capital Damascus. AFP file photo

Seven years after getting involved in the Syrian war, Iran may be beginning to have second thoughts about the wisdom of an adventure that shows no signs of ending. Several factors have contributed to what analysts believe could morph into a re-think of the costly strategy.

The first factor was official confirmation of Iran’s human losses in the war. Between November 2012 and 2017 Iran lost over 2,100 men, including 418 ranking officers while more than 7,000 Iranian “defenders of the shrines” were also wounded. Unofficial estimates for the losses of non-Iranian fighters, mostly Lebanese, Iraqi, Afghan and Pakistani, recruited and led by Iran, show several thousand casualties.

According to estimates by Iranian researchers using a survey of “funeral notices” published by the Lebanese branch of “Hezbollah,” the Iran-controlled militia led by Hassan Nasrallah has lost at least 1,400 men in combat in Syria. That is more than twice the number of men that “Hezbollah” lost in the 2006 war with Israel.

Western intelligence sources put the number of Iranian and Iran-led fighters in Syria at over 25,000. Thus, the losses they have sustained are far bigger than the classical military measure of “decimation” used to indicate the worst possible military performance. With that measure, Iran and the forces it leads in Syria should have lost no more than 2,500 men in total.

“The Syrian experience is a textbook case of poor planning and amateurish leadership,” says Hamid Zomorrodi a former naval officer and military analyst. “Those who decided to get Iran involved didn’t know what they wanted and were thus unable to decide what type of forces to commit and what tactics to adopt.”

According to a posthumously published account by General Hussein Hamadani, killed in combat in Syria, Tehran’s decision to intervene was aimed at preventing the fall of the head of the Syrian regime, Bashar al-Assad. However, Hamdani’s account shows that he and his fellow combatants were never told what they were supposed to do. Worse still, on arrival in Damascus, they realized that the Syrian military were far from keen on Iranian intervention.

“The Syrian military raised a wall of iron to keep us within limits.”

Unable to secure a central position within the broader strategy developed by the Syrian military, the Iranian contingent invented a justification for this presence by posing as “defender of the holy shrines.”

However, almost no one knew how many shrines there were or why they needed to be defended. More importantly, there was no sign of anybody wishing to attack those shrines in the middle of a larger war with much bigger objectives on all sides. The Iranians spent the first year of their presence putting together a list of shrines, coming up with the amazing number of over 10,000, many of them linked with Old Testament figures.

However, even supposing the objective was to protect “the shrines”, the elements sent to Syria were not trained for what was essentially a policing, not military, mission.

Iranian meddling in Syria has led Tehran into its biggest military losses since the eight-year war with Iraq. Iran’s military intervention in the 1970s in Oman against Communist-led insurgents in Dhofar claimed 69 Iranian lives.

According to General Ali Khorsand, who led that campaign, it succeeded because it was designed with “clock-work precision.”

“We knew what we were supposed to, how to get there and how to get out,” he claimed. “More importantly, we knew who was in command.”

In the case of the Syrian adventure, Iran’s involvement was not predicated on those conditions and, above all, lacked a clear command structure.

The Western, especially American media, have tried to build up Major-General Qassem Soleimani who heads the Quds (Jerusalem) Corps as the overall commander in the Syrian adventure. American magazines have put him on their cover and American TV has portrayed him as a swashbuckling knight on a white charger.

However, Soleimani, having spent almost his entire career at staff level, has had little field experience and is not capable of developing a strategic vision needed in a major conflict. By all accounts, Soleimani is a talented PR man and an efficient controller for the militias and agents paid by Iran in Lebanon, Iraq and elsewhere. But he is no military planner and his Quds Corps, which lacks combat units of its own, has never been anything more than a composite beast of intelligence, security, business, espionage, counter-espionage and propaganda.

Not knowing what type of forces was needed in Syria, Tehran left the sending of fighters there to personal choices of the “volunteers of martyrdom” and he hazards of the situation. Thus thousands of Iranians who had served in the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), the Baseej (Mobilization) of the Dispossessed, the Islamic Police (NAJA), the elite Islamic Green Berets and disparate other forces such as The Forestry Guard and even the navy went to Syria, treating that multifaceted war as if it were a tougher version of a Boy Scouts Jamboree. Among Iranian officers killed in Syria were at least 17 naval officers, including some experts in underwater fighting, although there was no water in the Syrian war.

The hodgepodge nature of those forces made it impossible to develop a coherent command-and-control system, especially in the context of asymmetric warfare against “enemies” using guerrilla tactics in their own home territory. Iranian fighters in Syria spoke no Arabic, knew nothing about the terrain and the culture, and were often shunned by the Syrian government’s armed forces. In the tragic case of Khan Touman, for example, the Syrian 4th Armored Division, simply refused to come to the aid of a besieged unit of Iranian Green Berets, left isolated and surrounded. In their hasty retreat Iran’s best fighters had to leave behind the dead bodies of 13 of their comrades.

Another problem is that the majority of Iranian “defenders of the shrine” are retired officers and NCOs, not at the height of their physical powers, or teenagers and young fighters with little or no combat experience. The 3-week “basic training” offered by Gen. Soleimani is not sufficient to train those volunteers in anything but driving military vehicles and handling weapons and ammunition.

The passage of years has not solved any of those problems.

Iranian forces don’t know what they are supposed to do apart from killing as many Syrians and possible. On occasions they become involved in classical positional warfare against “enemies” that specialize in hit-and-run. On other occasions they are confined to guarding and patrolling sites that are of no military interest.

The emergence of Russia from 2015 onwards as the chief orchestrator of the war in Syria has further confused the Iranians, limiting their margins of maneuver and reducing their overall influence.

Lacking an air force, Iran has not provided its forces in Syria with air support especially by helicopter gunships. Both Syria and Russia, which have the air power needed, have always refused to put their asset at the disposal of the Iranians or their Lebanese and other mercenaries.

In a closed system such as Khomeinist Iran it is not always possible to gauge public opinion. However, anecdotal evidence and musings within the establishment indicate growing weariness about a war which Iranians have never been fully informed about let alone approved.

An attempt almost two years ago to put General Mohsen Rezai, the former IRGC Commander, in charge of the Syrian war and relegate Gen. Soleimani to his public relations function was vetoed by “Supreme Guide” Ali Khamenei.

However, once again, the buzz in Tehran is about a new strategy and a new command structure for the Syrian war which, even if won, will give Iran no more than crumbs of victory.



Childhood Cancer Patients in Lebanon Must Battle Disease while Under Fire

Mohammad Mousawi, 8, a displaced boy from the southern suburb of Beirut who suffers from leukaemia, steps out the entrance of the Children's Cancer Center of Lebanon, in Beirut, Lebanon, Friday, Nov. 15, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Mohammad Mousawi, 8, a displaced boy from the southern suburb of Beirut who suffers from leukaemia, steps out the entrance of the Children's Cancer Center of Lebanon, in Beirut, Lebanon, Friday, Nov. 15, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
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Childhood Cancer Patients in Lebanon Must Battle Disease while Under Fire

Mohammad Mousawi, 8, a displaced boy from the southern suburb of Beirut who suffers from leukaemia, steps out the entrance of the Children's Cancer Center of Lebanon, in Beirut, Lebanon, Friday, Nov. 15, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Mohammad Mousawi, 8, a displaced boy from the southern suburb of Beirut who suffers from leukaemia, steps out the entrance of the Children's Cancer Center of Lebanon, in Beirut, Lebanon, Friday, Nov. 15, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)

Carol Zeghayer gripped her IV as she hurried down the brightly lit hallway of Beirut’s children’s cancer center. The 9-year-old's face brightened when she spotted her playmates from the oncology ward.

Diagnosed with cancer just months before the conflict between Hezbollah and Israel erupted in October 2023, Carol relies on weekly trips to the center in the Lebanese capital for treatment.

But what used to be a 90-minute drive, now takes up to three hours on a mountainous road to skirt the heavy bombardment in south Lebanon, but still not without danger from Israeli airstrikes. The family is just one among many across Lebanon now grappling with the hardships of both illness and war.

“She’s just a child. When they strike, she asks me, ‘Mama, was that far?’” said her mother, Sindus Hamra, The AP reported.

The family lives in Hasbaya, a province in southeastern Lebanon where the rumble of Israeli airstrikes has become part of daily life. Just 15 minutes away from their home, in the front-line town of Khiam, Israeli troops and Hezbollah fighters clash amidst relentless bombardments.

On the morning of a recent trip to Beirut for her treatment, the family heard a rocket roar and its deafening impact as they left their home. Israeli airstrikes have also hit vehicles along the Damascus-Beirut highway, which Carol and her mother have to cross.

The bombardment hasn’t let up even as hopes grew in recent days that a ceasefire might soon be agreed.

More than war, Hamra fears that Carol will miss chemotherapy.

“Her situation is very tricky — her cancer can spread to her head,” Hamra said, her eyes filling with tears. Her daughter, diagnosed first with cancer of the lymph nodes and later leukemia, has completed a third of her treatment, with many months still ahead.

While Carol's family remains in their home, many in Lebanon have been displaced by an intensified Israeli bombardment that began in late September. Tens of thousands fled their homes in southern and eastern Lebanon, as well as Beirut’s southern suburbs — among them were families with children battling cancer.

The Children’s Cancer Center of Lebanon quickly identified each patient’s location to ensure treatments remained uninterrupted, sometimes facilitating them at hospitals closer to the families' new locations, said Zeina El Chami, the center’s fundraising and events executive.

During the first days of the escalation, the center admitted some patients for emergency care and kept them there as it was unsafe to send them home, said Dolly Noun, a pediatric hematologist and oncologist.

“They had no place to go,” she added. "We’ve had patients getting admitted for panic attacks. It has not been easy.”

The war has not only deepened the struggles of young patients.

“Many physicians have had to relocate,” Noun said. “I know physicians, who work here, who haven’t seen their parents in like six weeks because the roads are very dangerous.”

Since 2019, Lebanon has been battered by cascading crises — economic collapse, the devastating Beirut port explosion in 2020, and now a relentless war — leaving institutions like the cancer center struggling to secure the funds needed to save lives.

“Cancer waits for no one,” Chami said. The crises have affected the center’s ability to hold fundraising events in recent years, leaving it in urgent need of donations, she added.

The facility is currently treating more than 400 patients aged from few days to 18 years old, Chami said. It treats around 60% of children with cancer in Lebanon.

For Carol, the war is sometimes a topic of conversation with her friends at the cancer center. Her mother hears her recount hearing the booms and how the house shook.

For others, the moments with their friends in the center's playroom provide a brief escape from the grim reality outside.

Eight-year-old Mohammad Mousawi darts around the playroom, giggling as he hides objects and books for his playmate to find. Too absorbed by the game, he barely answers questions, before the nurse calls him for his weekly chemotherapy treatment.

His family lived in Ghobeiry, a neighborhood in Beirut’s southern suburbs. Their house was marked for destruction in an Israeli evacuation warning weeks ago, his mother said.

“But till now, they haven’t struck it,” said his mother, Suzan Mousawi. “They have hit (buildings) around it — two behind it and two in front of it.”

The family has relocated three times. They first moved to the mountains, but the bitter cold weakened Mohammad’s already fragile immune system.

Now they’ve settled in Ain el-Rummaneh, not far from their home in the southern Beirut suburbs known as Dahiyeh, which has come under significant bombardment. As the Israeli military widened the radius of its bombardment, some buildings hit were less than 500 meters (yards) from their current home.

The Mousawis have lived their entire lives in Dahiyeh, Suzan Mousawi said, until the war uprooted them. Her parents’ home was bombed. “All our memories are gone,” she said.

Mohammad has 15 weeks of treatment left, and his family is praying it will be successful. But the war has stolen some of their dreams.

“When Mohammad fell ill, we bought a house,” she said. “It wasn’t big, but it was something. I bought him an electric scooter and set up a pool, telling myself we’d take him there once he finishes treatment.”

She fears the house, bought with every penny she had saved, could be lost at any moment.

For some families, this kind of conflict is not new. Asinat Al Lahham, a 9-year-old patient of the cancer center, is a refugee whose family fled Syria.

“We escaped one war to another,” Asinat’s mother, Fatima, added.

As her father, Aouni, drove home from her chemotherapy treatment weeks ago, an airstrike happened. He cranked up the music in the car, trying to drown out the deafening sound of the attack.

Asinat sat in the back seat, clutching her favorite toy. “I wanted to distract her, to make her hear less of it,” he said.

In the medical ward on a recent day, Asinat sat in a chair hooked to an IV drip, negotiating with her doctor. “Just two or three small pinches,” she pleaded, asking for flavoring for her instant noodles that she is not supposed to have.

“I don’t feel safe ... nowhere is safe ... not Lebanon, not Syria, not Palestine,” Asinat said. “The sonic booms are scary, but the noodles make it better,” she added with a mischievous grin.

The family has no choice but to stay in Lebanon. Returning to Syria, where their home is gone, would mean giving up Asinat’s treatment.

“We can’t leave here,” her mother said. “This war, her illness ... it’s like there’s no escape.”