Baghdad's Green Zone, a Barometer of War and Peace

In this Tuesday, May 28, 2019 photo, Iraqi security forces remove concrete blast walls at the Green Zone in Baghdad, Iraq. The Green Zone has been a barometer for tension and conflict in Iraq for nearly two decades. The 4-square mile (10-square kilometer), heavily guarded strip on the Tigris River was known as "Little America" following the 2003 US-led invasion that toppled dictator Saddam Hussein. It then became a hated symbol of the country's inequality, fueling the perception among Iraqis that their government is out of touch. (AP Photo/Ali Abdul Hassan)
In this Tuesday, May 28, 2019 photo, Iraqi security forces remove concrete blast walls at the Green Zone in Baghdad, Iraq. The Green Zone has been a barometer for tension and conflict in Iraq for nearly two decades. The 4-square mile (10-square kilometer), heavily guarded strip on the Tigris River was known as "Little America" following the 2003 US-led invasion that toppled dictator Saddam Hussein. It then became a hated symbol of the country's inequality, fueling the perception among Iraqis that their government is out of touch. (AP Photo/Ali Abdul Hassan)
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Baghdad's Green Zone, a Barometer of War and Peace

In this Tuesday, May 28, 2019 photo, Iraqi security forces remove concrete blast walls at the Green Zone in Baghdad, Iraq. The Green Zone has been a barometer for tension and conflict in Iraq for nearly two decades. The 4-square mile (10-square kilometer), heavily guarded strip on the Tigris River was known as "Little America" following the 2003 US-led invasion that toppled dictator Saddam Hussein. It then became a hated symbol of the country's inequality, fueling the perception among Iraqis that their government is out of touch. (AP Photo/Ali Abdul Hassan)
In this Tuesday, May 28, 2019 photo, Iraqi security forces remove concrete blast walls at the Green Zone in Baghdad, Iraq. The Green Zone has been a barometer for tension and conflict in Iraq for nearly two decades. The 4-square mile (10-square kilometer), heavily guarded strip on the Tigris River was known as "Little America" following the 2003 US-led invasion that toppled dictator Saddam Hussein. It then became a hated symbol of the country's inequality, fueling the perception among Iraqis that their government is out of touch. (AP Photo/Ali Abdul Hassan)

Baghdad's Green Zone has been a barometer for tension and conflict in Iraq for nearly two decades.

The 4-square mile (10-square kilometer) heavily guarded strip on the banks of the Tigris River was known as "Little America" following the 2003 US invasion that toppled dictator Saddam Hussein. It then became a hated symbol of the country's inequality, fueling the perception among Iraqis that their government is out of touch.

The sealed-off area, with its palm trees and monuments, is home to the gigantic US Embassy in Iraq, one of the largest diplomatic missions in the world. It has also been home to successive Iraqi governments and is off limits to most Iraqis.

Various attempts and promises by the Iraqi government to open the area to traffic over the past years have failed to materialize, because of persistent security concerns.

Here's a look at the Green Zone, past and present:

BEFORE THE INVASION

Although not visible, security was always tight around the area, as Saddam Hussein's presidential palace complex was located inside. So were the homes of some of Iraq's top government officials. The road leading to the presidential palace had been closed for decades before the war.

The zone is also home to important Baghdad landmarks including the "Victory Arch" - a 40-meter (131-feet) tall arch of two swords held by bronze casts of Saddam's hands to commemorate the 1980-88 Iran-Iraq war. The area is also home to the Monument of the Unknown Soldier, Baghdad's famous clock tower and the renowned Rasheed Hotel, where entering guests had to tread over a mosaic of former US President George Bush placed on the floor after the 1991 Gulf War.

Every year in July, Iraq's army held a massive parade marking the 1968 coup that brought Saddam's Arab Socialist Baath Party to power and ruled the country until the US invasion in 2003.

The first strike by the US-led coalition in the early hours of March 20, 2003 struck Saddam's Republican Palace inside what later came to be known as the Green Zone.

THE GREEN ZONE POST INVASION

The area was seized by US military forces in April 2003 in some of the heaviest fighting as American troops swept into Baghdad. The neighborhood became home for the Coalition Provisional Authority, a transitional government established following the invasion.

The first step taken to set up the area was taken by Jay Garner, who at the time headed the reconstruction team and set up its headquarters at Saddam Hussein's main palace.

The official name under the interim government was the International Zone, but the name Green Zone, al-Mintaqa al-Khadraa in Arabic, was more commonly used, because the area was safer than the rest of Baghdad, where explosions, kidnappings, sectarian killings and shootings soon became common. Blast walls and checkpoints were soon set up, and only people with special cards could enter.

Despite the blast walls, Shiite militiamen in eastern neighborhoods of the city commonly fired rockets into the Green Zone. Suicide attacks repeatedly struck at its gates, killing hundreds of people, including Americans.

At the height of the attacks, men reaching the gates of the area had to open their jackets and raise their shirts so that the guards knew they were not wearing explosive belts. Vehicles were thoroughly searched and bomb-sniffing dogs deployed.

One of the biggest security breaches occurred in April 2007, when a suicide bomber detonated his explosives in the cafeteria of the parliament building, killing eight people including three legislators.

In April 2016, supporters of populist Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr launched an anti-government protest, angrily scaling up the blast walls, tearing down some of the Green Zone's walls and stormed the parliament building in a major escalation of a political crisis that had simmered for months.

"LITTLE AMERICA"

During America's military occupation of Iraq, parts of the Green Zone were referred to by some as "little America" because of the US troops deployed around it, and American brands available inside. At one point, the Green Zone had at least seven bars, including a Thursday night disco, a sports bar, a British pub, a rooftop bar run by General Electric and a bare-bones trailer-tavern operated by the contractor Bechtel.

Then, the plushest tavern was the CIA's watering hole, known as the "OGA bar." OGA stands for "Other Government Agency," the CIA's low-key moniker. The OGA bar had a dance floor with a revolving mirrored disco ball and a game room. It opened to outsiders by invitation only.

There was also the Green Zone Cafe, a tent erected in the parking lot of a former gas station. On a typical evening, one could see US soldiers smoking from 4-foot-tall hookahs and security contractors laughing over beers, their machine guns by their sides.

A tiny back room at the cafe also held the green zone's chief liquor store, where bottles of whiskey, vodka, and wine were sold at approximately double the price charged outside the green zone's blast walls.

The sealed-off zone also boasted gyms, a pizza parlor and a makeshift casino that had a glorified game room.

Its name was adapted for the 2010 Matt Damon action thriller "Green Zone," about a US army officer hunting for weapons of mass destruction.

ALL IN THE PAST?

There has been talk for years that restrictions would be lifted in the Green Zone, first by then-Prime Minister Haider al-Abadi in 2015.

In March, Prime Minister Adel Abdul-Mahdi removed thousands of grey cement blast walls, easing the snarling traffic around Baghdad, and public access to the "Victory Arch" was restored.

The UN envoy to Iraq, Jeanine Hennis-Plasschaert, told a UN Security Council meeting earlier this month that "very soon the Green Zone will no longer exist."

Only a few days earlier, a rocket was fired into the Green Zone, landing less than a mile from the sprawling US Embassy.

Eager to show the war-scarred nation is returning to normal, Abdul-Mahdi is now promising to open it to the public on the first day of Eid al-Fitr, the upcoming holiday marking the end of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan.

"Once the area is fully opened, all Iraq will be green," said Lt. Gen. Mohamed Hamid Kadhim.



Gemayel to Asharq Al-Awsat: Khaddam was Assad’s Stick to Apply Pressure

Relations between Gemayel and Khaddam were highly tense (Getty)
Relations between Gemayel and Khaddam were highly tense (Getty)
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Gemayel to Asharq Al-Awsat: Khaddam was Assad’s Stick to Apply Pressure

Relations between Gemayel and Khaddam were highly tense (Getty)
Relations between Gemayel and Khaddam were highly tense (Getty)

Late Syrian President Hafez al-Assad was a masterful negotiator, fiercely protective of his image and reputation. He was known for exhausting his guests with lengthy detours into history before addressing the substance of any talks.

Assad had an exceptional ability to restrain his anger, circling around an issue before striking again — often with calculated patience.

He avoided coarse language, allowing resentments to speak for themselves, but he never forgave those he believed had tried to derail his vision. Among them, according to accounts, were Yasser Arafat, Kamal Jumblatt, Bashir Gemayel, Amine Gemayel, and Samir Geagea.

In dealing with rivals and pressuring opponents, Assad often relied on a trusted enforcer: Abdel Halim Khaddam, his long-time foreign minister and later vice president. In the second part of his interview with Asharq Al-Awsat, former Lebanese President Amine Gemayel said Khaddam was Assad’s “stick,” used to assert control.

Many Lebanese politicians believed Khaddam’s bluntness was not personal, but rather a reflection of an official mandate from his mentor.

Assad rarely issued direct threats. Instead, he preferred subtle intimidation — as when he told Gemayel that his aides had once suggested blowing up President Anwar Sadat’s plane to prevent him from reaching Jerusalem.

Khaddam, the late Syrian strongman’s long-serving envoy, was known for humiliating both allies and foes who dared defy Damascus’ directives. His tactics were often unsettling — deliberately designed to leave visitors unnerved and pliant by the time they reached Assad’s office.

In a conversation in Paris during his retirement, Khaddam defended his hardline methods, saying they were not meant to insult but to prevent potentially dangerous confrontations. “The aim was to avoid escalation that could lead to security agencies taking over, which might have resulted in worse outcomes,” he said.

In the same meeting, Khaddam accused former Lebanese President Amine Gemayel of obstructing a political solution in Lebanon, calling him “hesitant and suspicious.”

He also acknowledged Assad was caught off guard when the Tripartite Agreement collapsed. The Syrian leader, Khaddam said, had not believed anyone in Lebanon would openly defy Syria — or the other Lebanese factions who had signed the accord.

“President Assad had many cards to play. President Sarkis had none,” recalled former Lebanese Foreign Minister Fouad Boutros, reflecting on the stark imbalance between Syria and Lebanon during Elias Sarkis’s presidency.

Assad, he said, had the power to topple or paralyze the Lebanese government before Sarkis even returned to Beirut. “Sarkis had no leverage over Assad,” Boutros noted. “But while Sarkis often showed flexibility, he would stand firm when asked to compromise Lebanon’s core principles.”

Boutros, who played a key role in Lebanon’s diplomacy during the civil war, said he had to exercise utmost restraint to keep Khaddam — Syria’s often abrasive envoy — from derailing talks with personal attacks or inflammatory language.

The dynamic, he suggested, was not unique to Sarkis. It also echoed the later, uneasy relationship between Gemayel and Assad.

Gemayel recalled a cold and confrontational relationship with Khaddam, describing him as “the stick and the poison” used by Assad to pressure Beirut into submission.

“There was no warmth between us from the beginning,” Gemayel told Asharq Al-Awsat.

“Khaddam used underhanded tactics to undermine the presidency and sow division within my team. While President Assad treated me with respect and politeness, he needed someone to apply pressure — and that was Khaddam,” he added.

Gemayel said Khaddam was behind all the pressure campaigns Syria waged against him — all with Assad’s full knowledge. “Assad played the courteous statesman. Khaddam handled the dirty work. Syria wanted me to sign agreements harmful to Lebanon’s interests, and Khaddam was the one tasked with forcing my hand.”

Despite Khaddam’s harsh demeanor, Gemayel said he never allowed him to overstep.

“I kept him in check. He didn’t dare cross the line with me. We were once in a meeting with President Assad, and Khaddam had been spreading ridiculous rumors beforehand. When he spoke up, I turned to Assad and said: ‘Mr. President, we have a problem with Khaddam. Please ask him to stop acting like a spy when dealing with us.’”

Khaddam, Gemayel said, tried to intimidate many Lebanese politicians — but not him.

“He was rude, even insolent to the point of absurdity. But he knew that if he said anything out of line with me, I would respond immediately.”

Assad’s Subtle Control and the Language of Minorities

Assad understood early on the fragility of Lebanon’s sectarian makeup. To him, the country was a meeting place for minorities — one that always needed an external patron to manage its wars and truces. He allowed for limited victories, but never total defeat, ensuring that no side could do without Syria’s oversight.

Assad sought to rule Syria indefinitely, with Lebanon as a backyard extension of his regime. Yet unlike his brother Rifaat, he avoided openly sectarian rhetoric or calls for partition. Rifaat, according to Gemayel, once suggested dividing both Syria and Lebanon along sectarian lines during a conversation with Lebanese leaders Walid Jumblatt and Marwan Hamadeh.

When asked whether he ever felt his dialogue with Assad was, at its core, a conversation between an Alawite and a Maronite, Gemayel replied: “No — that was Rifaat’s language. He used to say minorities must come together and show solidarity. But that narrative was never pushed by President Assad or his inner circle. It was always tailored to serve their own agenda.”

Assad’s political strategy was built on gathering leverage — and minority groups were central to that plan. His ties with Lebanon’s Druze community, and his clash with Druze leader Kamal Jumblatt, fit squarely within this framework. Assad relied on Syria’s own Druze population, as well as the Christian minority, to tighten his grip on the country’s diverse communities and align them under the banner of his regime.

“Assad had a firm hold on the minorities,” Gemayel said, adding that “he brought them all together to make them part of the Syrian system.”

Tensions between Syria’s Alawite leadership and the country’s Sunni majority were well known, Gemayel added, particularly through the candid rhetoric of Assad’s brother, Rifaat.

“Rifaat was open about the hostility between Alawites and Sunnis,” Gemayel said. “In his conversations with us, it was clear. But with President Assad, there was no visible sign of that. What lay beneath the surface, only God knows — but in our dealings with him, we never felt it.”

Gemayel Dismisses Reports of a Syria-Lebanon Confederation Proposal

Asked about longstanding claims that former Lebanese President Camille Chamoun had once proposed a confederation between Lebanon and Syria to Hafez al-Assad, Gemayel was quick to reject the idea.

“That’s absolutely not true,” he said. “President Chamoun would never have made such a proposal. A lot of things were said at the time. There were even reports that US envoy Dean Brown had suggested relocating Lebanon’s Christians to California — all of it nonsense, poetic talk with no grounding in reality.”

Gemayel also addressed one of the most controversial moments in US diplomacy during Lebanon’s 1988 presidential crisis: the phrase reportedly used by US envoy Richard Murphy — “Mikhael Daher or chaos.”

Daher, a Christian MP close to Damascus, had been floated as the only candidate acceptable to both Syria and the United States.

But Washington later distanced itself from the deal. The episode, Gemayel said, underscored a period in which American pressure aligned more with Syrian — and by extension, Israeli — interests, leaving Lebanon’s sovereignty hanging in the balance.

Gemayel confirmed that US envoy Richard Murphy did indeed issue the stark ultimatum in 1988. The phrase, which became emblematic of foreign interference in Lebanon’s presidential crisis, reflected what Gemayel described as Washington’s unwillingness to confront Damascus — despite acknowledging its destabilizing role in Lebanon.

“Yes, Murphy said it,” Gemayel affirmed to Asharq Al-Awsat.

“The Americans had a problem — they wanted Syria, and they didn’t. They knew Syria was playing a destructive role in Lebanon, but they didn’t want to challenge it. They kept trying to find common ground with Syria, not with us.”

According to Gemayel, the US saw Daher — a respected Christian parliamentarian close to Damascus — as a palatable compromise. “They thought Daher was a respectable figure who might be acceptable to the Lebanese, so they went along with Syria’s choice,” he said.

Washington, he added, had consistently prioritized pragmatism over principle in Lebanon, often aligning with whichever side could deliver results — even if it came at Beirut’s expense.

“It was the same with the May 17 Agreement with Israel,” Gemayel said, referring to the short-lived 1983 accord.

“The US couldn't pressure Israel, so Lebanon had to pay. And they couldn’t pressure Syria either — Syria was stubborn, had resources, and they didn’t want a confrontation. So they kept trying to sell us solutions that weren’t in Lebanon’s interest.”

“The Americans were always looking for the quickest deal,” he added. “They wanted to please both Syria and Israel. With Syria, it was clear — they didn’t want to upset Assad, because they knew who held the real power in Lebanon.”

Gemayel said that while he personally held the reins in decision-making and negotiations with Syria during his time in office, several close advisers and intermediaries played essential roles in laying the groundwork for dialogue with Damascus.

“The relationship and final decisions were in my hands,” he told Asharq Al-Awsat.

“I was the one doing the actual negotiating. But when it came to preparation, the late Jean Obeid played a very valuable role. He was intelligent, committed to Lebanon’s interests, and had close ties with the Syrians. He couldn’t get everything done, but he managed to ease certain issues,” said Gemayel.

Gemayel also credited Eli Salem, another aide, for navigating delicate talks with Syrian officials — particularly with Khaddam.

“Salem had a knack for getting through on specific points,” Gemayel said. “He had good chemistry with Khaddam, and that helped, especially since Khaddam and I didn’t get along.”

One figure who unexpectedly played a constructive role, according to Gemayel, was Brigadier General Jamil al-Sayyed, then an intelligence officer stationed in Lebanon’s eastern Bekaa Valley.

“You may be surprised,” he said, “but Jamil al-Sayyed was very helpful. Whenever I was heading to Damascus, I would stop in the Bekaa to meet him. He gave me very precise insights into what was happening at the Syrian presidential palace and the broader picture in Damascus. He was well-informed, sincere, and provided intelligence that wasn’t widely available — information that truly benefited Lebanon.”

Asked whether Syria was uneasy about the role of veteran journalist and diplomat Ghassan Tueni in his administration, Gemayel said the Syrians had little affection for him.

“There was never any warmth toward Ghassan,” he said. “He came with me to Syria just once, and it was clear there was tension. Whenever he was present, things got heated. Ghassan and Khaddam were like a ping-pong match — constantly hitting the ball back and forth.”

The friction, Gemayel explained, stemmed in large part from Tueni’s association with An-Nahar, the Beirut daily he helped lead, which often published sharp criticism of Syria.

“Syria never appreciated An-Nahar,” Gemayel said. “Even if Ghassan tried to distance himself from specific articles, the content was out there for everyone to see — and the Syrians didn’t forget it.”