US Citizens in Lebanon Refuse Repatriation over Coronavirus, Say Beirut is Safer

Gloves and face masks are hanged to dry during a countrywide lockdown to combat the spread of the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) in Sidon, Lebanon April 8, 2020. (Reuters)
Gloves and face masks are hanged to dry during a countrywide lockdown to combat the spread of the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) in Sidon, Lebanon April 8, 2020. (Reuters)
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US Citizens in Lebanon Refuse Repatriation over Coronavirus, Say Beirut is Safer

Gloves and face masks are hanged to dry during a countrywide lockdown to combat the spread of the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) in Sidon, Lebanon April 8, 2020. (Reuters)
Gloves and face masks are hanged to dry during a countrywide lockdown to combat the spread of the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) in Sidon, Lebanon April 8, 2020. (Reuters)

Carly Fuglei was with a group of Danish friends in Beirut last month when she first considered moving back to the United States. They were preparing to leave Lebanon amid fears of a major coronavirus outbreak there, and tried to convince her to do the same.

But the 28-year-old humanitarian consultant from Montana decided to stay. After Lebanon closed its borders on March 19 to stem the spread of the global pandemic, she began furnishing her rooftop terrace. Her time in Beirut, she realized, would be indefinite.

"I made that decision for a combination of personal reasons and calculations about the virus that we're all making," says Fuglei. "I think that I am probably safer here."

It's a decision that several US citizens in Beirut who CNN spoke to have echoed, citing skyrocketing cases in the US. When the US government last week said it would fly its citizens and permanent residents to the US on a chartered flight for $2,500 per person, some Americans took to Twitter to publicly decline the offer.

"And no, Mom, I'm not going," Beirut-based freelance journalist Abby Sewell wrote in a tweet about the US embassy announcement.

Responding to her tweet, a Lebanese journalist said: "For once I'm like no America is not safer than here." Sewell's mother, Meg Sewell, replied: "Actually, for the moment I might have to agree."

Sewell tells CNN she never considered taking the US embassy's offer.

"From everything I'm reading, the situation is worse in the US, in terms of the number of cases, prevention measures or lack thereof, and how overburdened the health system is," she says.

"Also, since I've been living overseas for years, I don't have health insurance in the US now, so if I did go back and then got sick, I would be looking at paying thousands of dollars out of pocket."

On the morning of April 5, the US embassy flew 95 US citizens out of Lebanon, according to a US State Department official. It is estimated that thousands of Americans live in Lebanon -- many of whom also hold Lebanese citizenship.

"The Department of State has no greater priority than the safety and security of US citizens overseas," the official told CNN. "We are rising to meet the historic challenge posed by the Covid-19 pandemic, every day, all over the world."

When asked about Americans suggesting that Beirut is, for once, safer than the US, the official declined to comment.

Daryn Howland, 27, is hunkered down in her Beirut apartment, diving into her work as a consultant. "My plan is to stay here for the indefinite future," says the Boston native.

"The fact that things are so bad in the US means it's one of the first times where it's safer to be in Lebanon than in the US," Howland also echoes. "Despite the (Lebanese political and economic) situation ... I think my odds are better here."

"All of my American friends here have decided to stay," she adds.

When the first novel coronavirus case was reported in Lebanon on February 21, the country was already awash with crises.

Nationwide protests erupted against the country's political elite last October, toppling the government of former Prime Minister Saad Hariri and deepening a political crisis. Already under increasing pressure, the country's currency tanked. Last month, Beirut announced its first ever debt default.

Under widespread pressure from activists and media, the freshly-minted government of Prime Minister Hassan Diab vowed not to take any chances with the virus, despite the toll any measures might take on the already troubled economy.

Eight days after that first case, on February 29, the country closed its schools and universities. On March 6, it shuttered restaurants and cafes, ahead of several western European countries, such as Italy, in enforcing such a measure. The government then announced a lockdown on March 15.

In recent weeks, the spread of the coronavirus in Lebanon has slowed, according to the World Health Organization's Lebanon office. Medical professionals have offered cautious praise for the country's relatively early steps to enforce the lockdown.

More than 1.6 million people have been reported to be infected by the novel coronavirus globally and 100,035 have died, according to a Reuters tally. The US has reported 483,603 cases and 17,876 fatalities and Lebanon has registered 609 cases and 20 fatalities.



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.
Saddam Hussein and Jamal Mustafa Sultan.
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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.
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.

A US soldier watches the toppling of Saddam Hussein’s statue in Baghdad on April 7, 2003. (Reuters)

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.

Saddam Hussein meets with top members of his regime. (Getty Images)

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.

Saddam Hussein and his daughter Hala. (Courtesy of the family)

“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.”

Jamal Mustafa Sultan with his children.

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.