Workers remove the rubble beneath a partially-destroyed traditional Lebanese building in the Gemmayzeh neighborhood of the capital Beirut, in the aftermath of the devastating port blast, on August 26, 2020. (Photo by JOSEPH EID / AFP)
Workers remove the rubble beneath a partially-destroyed traditional Lebanese building in the Gemmayzeh neighborhood of the capital Beirut, in the aftermath of the devastating port blast, on August 26, 2020. (Photo by JOSEPH EID / AFP)
Ever since a monster blast ravaged the arches and high ceiling of his family home in Lebanon's capital, Bassam Bassila says a real estate developer has been hounding him to sell.
"The owner of a tower block nearby is trying to pressure me into selling him my home so he can raze it to the ground" and "build a tall tower" instead, the 68-year-old said in Beirut's Monot neighborhood.
A massive explosion at the Beirut port on August 4 that many blame on official negligence killed more than 180 people, wounded thousands and laid waste to some of the capital's most picturesque streets.
With survivors still picking through the rubble, property sharks are moving in to take advantage of distraught homeowners, sparking outrage over yet another disaster in the making, this time targeting the country's heritage.
Standing inside his living room turned balcony after the wall separating them was blown off, Bassila said the developer had first approached him some time before the blast, offering to buy his apartment after acquiring the ground floor of the same building.
"Eventually you will leave," the developer threatened at the time.
And now he is back, ramping up pressure on Bassila to sell the home he inherited from his grandparents by refusing to prop up the ceiling of the flat below -- meaning Bassila's apartment could collapse.
A former photographer now eking out a living as a taxi driver, Bassila says he cannot afford to restore his family home without financial aid. But he is also determined not to give it up.
"I was born in this house and my father was before me... I can't live anywhere else."
Of 576 heritage buildings surveyed in the wake of the explosion, including 331 in the port's immediate vicinity, the culture ministry says 86 were severely damaged.
Of those, 44 risk complete collapse, while a further 41 could partially fall down.
In the days after the explosion, Bishara Ghulam, the mayor of the Rmeil district near the port, said he received an unexpected visitor among those flocking to his office to report damage to their homes.
"A man turned up who said he was a real estate broker. He said he wanted to buy houses damaged in the blast, and would pay whatever the owners wanted," Ghulam said.
"I told him we weren't selling."
In the capital, banners have appeared reading "Beirut is not for sale".
Naji Raji, the founder of the Save Beirut Heritage initiative, said: "We've heard from people who have received offers from investors linked to certain politicians."
These developers were bent on profit and coveted central Beirut real estate as it was a "prime touristic area" but would likely change its appearance with no regard for heritage, he said.
In the devastated Gemmayzeh neighborhood, architect Rita Saade surveyed the damage sustained by the home that once belonged to her great-grandparents.
Between the mint green walls of a room held up by arched pillars, she pointed to where the floor had partially caved in. Wooden slats from broken window shutters and shattered drinking glasses lay in a pile nearby.
"This is heritage and it needs to be restored," said the 23-year-old Saade. But "we can't afford to restore it on our own".
Audrey Azoulay, the head of the UN's culture and education body UNESCO, Thursday said the agency hoped to raise "considerable" funding to help with reconstruction.
Jamal Mustafa to Asharq Al-Awsat: I Couldn’t Provide Bribe Demanded by Judge, So I Was Jailed for Another 10 Yearshttps://english.aawsat.com/features/5085869-jamal-mustafa-asharq-al-awsat-i-couldn%E2%80%99t-provide-bribe-demanded-judge-so-i-was
Jamal Mustafa to Asharq Al-Awsat: I Couldn’t Provide Bribe Demanded by Judge, So I Was Jailed for Another 10 Years
Saddam Hussein and Jamal Mustafa Sultan.
In the final installment of his interview with Asharq Al-Awsat, Jamal Mustafa Sultan, a former Iraqi official and Saddam Hussein’s son-in-law, delves into his arrest, the collapse of hopes for resistance against US forces, and the turmoil that followed the American invasion of Iraq in 2003.
Mustafa faced a harsh journey during the 2003 US invasion of Iraq. He traveled to rally tribal leaders to defend Baghdad, only to return and find the city occupied. Declared a fugitive, his face appeared on the US “most-wanted” playing cards.
Mustafa fled to Syria but was denied asylum and sent back to Iraq, where he was arrested. Accused of leading resistance and car bombings, the court found no evidence to convict him.
In 2011, a judge offered him release in exchange for a bribe, which Mustafa could not afford. His proposal to sell family land to pay was rejected, leaving him imprisoned for another decade. He was eventually freed over lack of evidence.
After his release, Mustafa went to Erbil, where Kurdish leader Masoud Barzani invited him for a meeting. Barzani welcomed him warmly and asked how he could help. Mustafa requested assistance in obtaining a passport, praising Barzani’s generosity.
Mustafa shared that Saddam respected Barzani, once calling him a “tough but honorable opponent.” He also revealed that, before the 2003 US invasion of Iraq, Barzani had assured Saddam that Kurdish forces would not fight the Iraqi army.
Recalling the lead-up to the war, Mustafa said Saddam tasked him with reconnecting with tribal leaders to encourage them to resist the invasion.
He delivered personal messages from Saddam, along with financial support, to help tribes host Iraqi soldiers stationed nearby. Mustafa later traveled to the Anbar province to rally tribes and bring them to defend Baghdad.
This account offers a rare glimpse into the behind-the-scenes efforts to resist the US invasion and the complex relationships that shaped Iraq’s history.
As the US invasion loomed, Mustafa met with thousands of tribal leaders to rally support for Baghdad’s defense.
“During the war, I met with over 4,500 tribal sheikhs from across Iraq,” he said. But when he returned to Baghdad after a trip to Anbar, everything had changed. “The city had fallen, and everything was in chaos.”
Mustafa tried to locate his associates but found no one. On April 11, 2003, he sent his driver to search for allies.
By chance, his brother, Lt. Gen. Kamal Mustafa, located him. “He told me we needed to leave Baghdad. I hadn’t planned to leave, but he convinced me it was the logical choice—we had no weapons, no men, and no resources. Staying would only mean capture.”
The brothers fled to Ramadi, where tribal leaders offered them refuge, and from there, they attempted to seek asylum in Syria. After just two days, Syrian authorities sent them back to Iraq.
Back in Baghdad, Mustafa and Khalid Najm, Iraq’s last intelligence chief, stayed with a university friend, Dr. Hafidh Al-Dulaimi. While there, Al-Dulaimi’s nephew suggested surrendering to Ahmed Chalabi’s forces, but Mustafa refused.
Shortly after, armed men stormed the house. “They came with tanks and masks,” Mustafa recalled. He and Najm were arrested on April 21, 2003—a day he will never forget.
Mustafa shared his experiences in US detention after his capture. “The interrogations were relentless, often involving psychological and physical pressure,” he added.
“They focused on weapons of mass destruction—’did Iraq have them, and where were they?’ Everyone faced the same questions. They also asked about US pilot Michael Scott Speicher, whose plane was shot down during the Gulf War. Though his remains were later found, the Americans kept questioning us, believing more was being hidden.”
Life in the detention center was highly controlled. Detainees were grouped in blocks of seven and given 30 minutes of outdoor time. Sultan recalled a chilling moment when Ahmed Hussein, Saddam’s office chief, told him during exercise: “The president has been captured.”
“We had clung to hope that Saddam’s freedom could lead to Iraq’s liberation,” Mustafa said. “His arrest shattered that hope and signaled the occupation’s permanence.”
He also described mysterious construction in the prison. “We saw carpenters working constantly. Eventually, they built a wooden barrier, blocking the corridor from view. We could only guess what it was for.”
When asked if Saddam had led the resistance before his capture, Mustafa confirmed: “Yes, the resistance began after the war. It wasn’t planned in advance because, at that time, the focus was purely military—army against army.”
“After the occupation, a new phase started. Battles unfolded in stages, and Saddam was leading the resistance during this one. He was the hope of the resistance, of the Iraqi people, and of Arabs and Muslims,” Mustafa revealed.
His remarks offer a glimpse into the post-invasion dynamics and the symbolic role Saddam played during Iraq’s turbulent transition.
Mustafa also recounted the difficulty of reaching his family after his arrest.
“After my capture, I lost all contact with my family. I didn’t have any phone numbers for my brothers, friends, or colleagues. Even if I had, phone lines had been disrupted—many exchanges had been bombed, and communication in Iraq was severely impacted,” he told Asharq Al-Awsat.
Mustafa recalled an encounter with the International Red Cross during his detention.
“The Red Cross offered me the chance to write a message to my family, as is their usual practice. But I was at a loss—who could I write to? I had no idea where my brothers or family were. I didn’t know anything about their whereabouts.”
Then, Mustafa had an idea. “I thought of Ammo Baba, a well-known football coach in Iraq. I didn’t know his address, but I remembered the address of the Police Club, where I had been president. I decided to write the letter there, addressed to Ammo Baba, asking him to pass it on to my family.”
Mustafa’s story highlights the communication challenges and isolation faced by detainees during the Iraq War.
He then described the prolonged separation from his family following his arrest. “I had no hopes of hearing from my family when I sent my letter through Ammo Baba,” Mustafa said.
“The situation was too difficult. After two and a half to three months, I received a response from Ammo Baba. He sent his regards, inquired about my health, and included a message from Yassin, a coach who worked with me. Along with the letter, they sent me sportswear—a shirt and shorts.”
Mustafa’s communication with his family may have been limited, but the letter served as a lifeline.
“A couple of years later, I received the first message from my wife, Hala, after two years in detention.”
When asked if he had been separated from his family for 18 years, Mustafa confirmed: “Yes, I hadn’t seen them or my children for 18 and a half years.”
“There were no visits or conversations, except for a brief period when we were held by the Americans. During that time, they allowed us five minutes a week to speak with our families. I would split the time—two and a half minutes with my mother and siblings, and the rest with my wife and daughters,” he said.
However, he revealed that after 2010, communication was cut off entirely.
“When we were transferred to Iraqi custody, they stopped allowing any contact. I was careful not to make calls with the Iraqis, as I feared enemies or foreign agents could record them,” explained Mustafa.
Mustafa’s story underscores the isolation he endured and the limited means of contact with his loved ones during years of detention.