Episode One
Journalists sometimes fall into the trap of being drawn into the story of a thorny, sensual, or cruel man who has a remarkable role at a certain stage. The man’s name could be Vladimir Putin, Saddam Hussein, or Muammar Gaddafi.
I was attracted to stories shrouded in so much malice and mystery. That is how I spent years looking for features, stories, and details.
The story of another man, the Palestinian leader Wadie Haddad, whose name has been associated with hijacking planes and “chasing the enemy everywhere” had caught my attention.
In the 70s of the last century, Haddad, who was responsible for foreign operations at the “Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine,” shook the region and the world.
Operations launched by Haddad preoccupied political, security and media circles with two key stars: Carlos the Jackal, whose star shone after the kidnapping of the OPEC ministers in Vienna, and the second was the young Palestinian woman, Leila Khaled, who participated in the 1969 and 1970 hijackings of two planes.
In the summer of 2001, I published a lengthy investigation on Haddad, which also included Carlos’ responses to questions I sent to him in his French prison, where he still resides.
However, circumstances prevented Khaled from being involved in the matter.
Late Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri, at that time, asked me why I was interested in Haddad's story, and I replied that it was out of journalistic curiosity. I was surprised that a busy prime minister would have enough time to read an interview of this kind.
I later heard from an informed source that during a visit to Haddad’s house in Beirut, a day after it was targeted in the summer of 1970 by Israeli shells, a young Lebanese man was taking part in removing shards of glass.
Curiosity got the better of me and I discovered after repeated attempts that the young man was Hariri. I had many doubts, because at that time Hariri was working in Saudi Arabia. But the source seemed confident of their statement since they knew Hariri personally.
Labneh Sandwiches
Years ago, poet and journalist Zahi Wehbe was giving an interview on Future TV, which Hariri owned, along with Leila Khaled.
During the interview, Wehbe received a call from Hariri's house in Quraitem Palace asking him to extend the ad period, which he did. During the break, Hariri called and asked to speak to Khaled.
“I am Rafik Hariri, the prime minister of Lebanon,” Hariri told Khaled.
“I do not know the Prime Minister of Lebanon. I know the old Rafik (Hariri),” replied Khaled. This is when Hariri requested that Khaled visit him at home.
Rafik Hariri (Getty) - Wadie Haddad - Jalal Talabani (Getty)
Khaled went with Wehbe, and Hariri met with them. They discussed the difficult conditions in Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon, and Khaled stressed the need to ease the restrictions on the lives of camp residents.
Hariri asked his guest if she still remembered the “labneh sandwiches,” and Khaled affirmed that she did.
Wehbe tried to inquire about the sandwiches, but Hariri stopped the conversation with a wave of his hand and moved on to another topic.
The “labneh sandwiches” was Hariri’s most confidential matter.
Hariri hid the secret from the closest people to him, and now the readers of Asharq Al-Awsat are learning about it half a century after it had happened.
To be honest, I did not go to Khaled's house in Amman to ask her about Hariri. I went to collect stories, especially since this woman is about to turn eighty without changing her convictions or regretting what she did.
Khaled unwittingly contributed to saving Haddad from death because of her presence in his apartment when it was targeted by Mossad shells in 1970. She was instructing him about an operation being prepared, keeping him outside the bedroom which was targeted in the attack that injured his wife and son.
When Khaled told me this, I remembered the young man who was said to have collected the shards of glass the next day. I asked her if she saw him the next day, and she replied that she was with Haddad’s family at the American University of Beirut Medical Center, and she did not know who came to the apartment.
When asked if she knew Hariri in those years, she replied: “Yes. I knew him because he lived with my brother during their studies at the Beirut Arab University.”
“A year before he was due to graduate, he came to my sister's house in Mazraa, Beirut.”
“He said he decided to go to work in Saudi Arabia.”
“We tried to persuade him to complete his studies, but he was not convinced.”
“If I remember well, this was in 1965 or soon after. He visited us later in Lebanon, met with Haddad, and got assigned the task of transporting weapons to Europe.”
I pretended not to be surprised and asked where and when he had transferred the weapons, and Khaled’s response was: “To Europe, and he did that more than once between 1970 and 1971.”
“At that time, he was working in Saudi Arabia. I am not aware of how Haddad was asking him to come to Lebanon. He was the one delivering the weapons. After 1972, we no longer saw him,” added Khaled.
I inquired if Hariri - despite his modest capabilities at the time - contributed to any financing for the group, and Khaled’s answer was: “I am not sure, all I witnessed was his assignment to transfer weapons.”
“The rule of thumb was that no one should know anything except for what they have to complete their mission.”
I asked about the reason for assigning Hariri a task of this kind while he was working in Saudi Arabia, and she replied: “I told you what I know. Perhaps because his passport did not arouse suspicion.”
Khaled refused to talk about how Hariri got the weapons to pass through the airports of France, Spain, and Germany.
The tape recorder was on and thoughts started racing through my mind. The young man who was assigned by Haddad to transport weapons to Europe will later appear to be an acceptable player on Arab and international levels.
Hariri would later visit the White House, the Kremlin, and 10 Downing Street. The Elysee master will break the protocol to dine at his Parisian home.
Hariri and Smuggling Publications to Syria
At that moment, I remembered what I heard two decades ago from Zaki Hillo, who worked with Haddad, when he told me that he knew Hariri. Hillo didn’t reveal much. He had trained to live in a world of secrets, and was the one who trained Carlos in marksmanship and small explosives.
I turned to those who accompanied Hariri in his early youth in his hometown of Sidon, southern Lebanon. They said Hariri was an enthusiastic young man who joined the “Movement of Arab Nationalists” as an activist.
At the movement, Hariri got acquainted with the names of George Habash and Haddad and got to know them later. His role was modest.
He participated in a committee headed by Haddad, which was concerned with providing facilities to some members of the movement, such as finding homes for rent and services of this kind. Hariri was also tasked with delivering the movement’s publications secretly to its members in Syria.
He chose to hide these leaflets in the vegetable trucks that were traveling from Sidon to the Syrian cities. Those days were the thread that linked Hariri to some of the movement's symbols before the birth of the “Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine” led by Habash.
Jalal Talabani on a Reconnaissance Mission
Khaled noticed that Haddad was skilled at using some friendships, especially with non-suspicious people, to play roles that serve his work. In this context, he once assigned a young Kurdish leftist to carry out reconnaissance missions in Europe.
I had heard years ago that this Kurdish youth later assumed a high position, so my suspicions went to the late Iraqi President Jalal Talabani.
Taking advantage of the opportunity to meet with him during his visit to Damascus, I asked him to confirm the story. He kindly wished not to focus too much on it “so that friends in the US would not say that the president of Iraq is a former terrorist.” Perhaps he was also avoiding saying that his trip was part of a plan to assassinate Shimon Peres.
The truth is that I was not surprised that Talabani played a role of this kind because of his upbringing, his inclinations, and his connections. But it is strange that Hariri transported weapons and that this role remained a secret for five decades.
Haddad used his friendships to serve his cause.
“He used to ask me to go to some personalities and friends, including a number of doctors, to get money from them to cover travel expenses and missions,” revealed Khaled.
“He used to tell me to tell them we want to buy travel tickets,” she explained.
“Once I went to Najib Abu Haidar (former Lebanese minister) and he asked me where Haddad wanted to travel. Of course, I replied, "I don't know."
“They would give us the money and we would buy the tickets.”
“Haddad was dependent on some of his relatives, including those who were at the head of a major company.”
Khaled tells how Haddad used to talk to his friends and relatives. He urged them to fund him because he was fighting for a Palestine that was for all.
“Their confidence in him and the justice of the case prompted them to be responsive,” clarified Khaled.
Another friend of Haddad that was not hesitant to offer his services was the representative of the city of Sidon in the Lebanese parliament, Marouf Saad. One day, Saad was asked to suggest a suitable place for a hijacked plane to land. Saad searched for a place that had Haddad’s approval, but Khaled was afraid that the place would be within reach of the Israeli warplanes, so the matter was dismissed. The search later moved outside Lebanon, and Khaled was tasked with recruiting members and training them to hijack planes, which she did.
Mossad Missiles Postponed the Honeymoon
I asked Khaled to tell the story of the assassination attempt on Haddad at the hands of the Mossad, because she was with him at the moment of the attack.
“Haddad was adhering to strict security measures and all his movements were surrounded by complete secrecy,” she recalled.
“However, they succeeded in hitting his apartment in Al-Zarif in Beirut with six missiles directed at the bedrooms at 2:00 am.”
“Fortunately, I was sitting with him in the dining room.”
“I had to travel in the morning, but I was supposed to write down the details of the operation that was supposed to lead me to Tel Aviv. I was writing the details to send to the leadership when the explosions went off.”
“I was thrust from my place, and we heard the screams of Hani, Haddad’s son.”
“Haddad was not injured, but shrapnel hit his son in more than one place.”
“The glass in the apartment shattered and we felt as if we were suffocating. The closet was on fire and was about to fall on Hani, who was lying in his bed.”
“Haddad came forward and I saw his hands were burning, but he was able to carry Hani and give him to me.”
“The boy was bleeding, so I picked him up. But I didn't know how to open the door.”
“Haddad came with his burning hands and grabbed the lock.”
“The missiles hit, especially the lower and upper floors, and I still remember Haddad’s sentence in those harsh conditions when he said: Their operation failed.”
Khaled added that Haddad had gone into the other room to bring his wife after collecting the papers of the operation’s details and placing them in his pocket.
“He came to his wife and asked her to get up.”
“When she discovered that her son was not near her, she started screaming.”
“I rushed to the hospital and started yelling after the staff demanded money before admitting Hani, knowing that he was bleeding on my hand.”
“I pushed the man who asked for the insurance, entered the hospital, and Haddad followed me with his wife.”
The plan, which was aborted because of the attack, was for Khaled to go with a fake passport to Tel Aviv to spend her honeymoon there, and then carry out the operation.
“In the hospital we had to think of a response, and I brought a book about the flights of Israeli planes to and from Tel Aviv.”
“I spotted three planes that can be hunted almost simultaneously. I presented the idea to Haddad and he liked it.”
General view of a mural of Leila Khaled, on the apartheid wall in Bethlehem, West Bank (Getty)
Did Haddad Die Poisoned
On March 28, 1978, Haddad took his last breath in a police hospital in East Berlin. The man of secrets was gone, leaving behind an outstanding mystery that decades have not succeeded in clearing.
Was he poisoned? No one has a definitive answer.
The painful symptoms that afflicted him in Iraq, Algeria and Berlin led him to believe that he had been subjected to an elaborate poisoning process, but the medical reports did not provide a decisive or definitive answer.
Haddad’s comrades tried to continue their activities after his death. However, a few years were enough to turn the page on foreign operations in the staggering absence of Haddad. Haddad was buried in Baghdad
Khaled mocks the claims of some Mossad agents that Haddad fell victim to the poisoned chocolates they sent him. She confirmed that Haddad “did not like chocolate.”
Haddad’s comrades locked the organization’s secrets in a safe and kept the key in a protected place. They are not in the habit of meeting journalists, leaking news, or selling secrets.
Khaled is a little different because she became a star and a symbol. She later assumed leadership positions in the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine and participated in successive activities to enhance the role of Palestinian women.
Khaled was born in Haifa in 1944 and immigrated with her family to Lebanon after the Nakba. She resided in Tyre, Sidon and Beirut before later going to Kuwait.
