Leila Khaled: The Soviets Supplied us with Parts to Develop Advanced Bombs

Plane hijacker recalls to Asharq Al-Awsat her storied operations in the 1970s

One of three planes that were hijacked and forced to land outside the Jordanian capital, Amman, and that was later blown up by Palestinian militias in September 1970. (Getty Images)
One of three planes that were hijacked and forced to land outside the Jordanian capital, Amman, and that was later blown up by Palestinian militias in September 1970. (Getty Images)
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Leila Khaled: The Soviets Supplied us with Parts to Develop Advanced Bombs

One of three planes that were hijacked and forced to land outside the Jordanian capital, Amman, and that was later blown up by Palestinian militias in September 1970. (Getty Images)
One of three planes that were hijacked and forced to land outside the Jordanian capital, Amman, and that was later blown up by Palestinian militias in September 1970. (Getty Images)

Final episode

Leila Khaled is approaching 80. She has spent her life chasing a dream that has not been achieved. She has not abandoned it and feels no regret or remorse. She joined the Arab Nationalist Movement while she was still in high school and later joined the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP).

She rose up the ranks to become a member of its leading body. Danger would become her daily companion when she joined the PFLP’s External Operations headed by Wadie Haddad.

Throughout the years, I had always wondered whether there was any connection between the External Operations and the intelligence empire of the Soviets’ KGB that was long headed by Yuri Andropov before he became master of the Kremlin.

Khaled had the answer. She said: “Wadie opened the channel of communication with the Soviets through a military attaché in Beirut. At one point, we were building bombs that could breach the entrance of airport gates, no matter how high advanced they were.”

“We tested some of them, leaving the British with quite a surprise,” she recalled in an interview to Asharq Al-Awsat in Amman. “One day we realized that we needed a specific spring to develop the bomb. We didn’t trust any embassy and we used to resolve our problems through Wadie’s doctor friends at the American University of Beirut hospital. This time, they couldn’t find a solution to our problem.”

“It was difficult for us to approach the Soviet embassy or arrange a meeting elsewhere. Western security agencies were tracking us. The best way to meet the Soviet military attaché was at the seaside promenade where we could appear as casual pedestrians.”

“We explained our case to the official, who relayed our request to his command. Afterwards, we headed to Moscow and received what we had asked for. I did not take part in the meetings, but did go with Wadie to Moscow,” Khaled said.

I asked her about a meeting that had allegedly taken place between Haddad and Andropov in a forest outside of Moscow. She replied that she had not taken part in that meeting.


PLO member Leila Khaled and a group of Palestinian women attend the 16th Palestinian National Council meeting in Algiers. (Getty)

Forest meeting

The forest meeting did indeed happen. Haddad was hosted at a palace in the middle of a forest. He held a series of meetings with Soviet officials that tackled military, political and technical issues. The talks were capped with a meeting with KGB leader Andropov.

The topic at hand was not easy. At the time it was called “terrorism”. The discussions quickly revealed evident differences over the two-state solution. Haddad stressed that “our country is one and indivisible. We have never thought about the rise of two states. If the whole of Palestine, including Jerusalem, but excluding Haifa, were to be offered to us, we would turn it down.”

He was then asked if he had any specific demands. Haddad replied: “I had made a list before my arrival. I am not greedy, but in need. We need the list to be met in full or not at all.” He handed over his list and indeed, the Soviets fulfilled all of his demands. Some weapons, machineguns, rifles, ammunition, timers, and certain devices.

Khaled recalled: “After some time, we were contacted in Aden. Some six kilometers off the shore, we received all the weapons that Wadie had asked for. There would be no follow up to the meeting in the forest. The relations would remain as they were. Later, at Wadie’s funeral, a Soviet diplomat asked us who would be his successor and we told him that now was not the time for such discussions. Actual relations were never established after that.”


 Leila Khaled smiles after returning to Jordan following the hijacking of after American T.W.A. jetliner in Damascus (Getty)

Plane hijacker

I was a student in the southern Lebanese city of Sidon when news broke out that a young Palestinian woman, who called herself Shadia Abou Ghazaleh, had hijacked an Israeli plane and flown it over Haifa before landing in Damascus airport. Abou Ghazaleh was the name of the PFLP’s first female operative to be killed.

The news of the hijacking was exceptionally exciting. It was uncommon in the Middle East and even the world for a woman to hijack a plane. Her family had been displaced to Lebanon in 1948. She graduated from a school in Sidon before joining the PFLP and later the External Operations.

I had never imagined back then that decades later, I would one day be in an apartment in Amman to listen to Khaled recount to Asharq Al-Awsat what happened at that time.

Haddad was studying medicine at the American University of Beirut. His colleague, George Habash, dreamed of returning to Palestine. He was horrified at the thought of a world that would get used to seeing Palestinians living under occupation or displaced in camps in Jordan, Syria and Lebanon. He was aware of Israel’s power and strength of its ties with the West. He feared that Palestine would be forgotten by the world.

He thought of different ways to again draw the world’s attention to the plight of the Palestinian people. And so, the idea of hijacking planes was born. It would serve as a reminder to the world and to prompt the release of prisoners held in Israeli jails.

Khaled stressed that Haddad was aware of how sensitive this issue was to international public opinion. That is why he stressed that the hijackers should never harm passengers or fire back at any shooter.

Two incidents would precede Khaled’s first hijacking. The first was the hijacking of the Algeria-bound Israeli El Al flight by Youssef Rajab and Abou Hassan Ghosh. “Since negotiations only took place between nations, their operation ended in pledges,” recalled Khaled. The second was an attack on an Israeli plane before takeoff from Zurich airport. The operation was carried out by four people, including Amina Dahbour. The attackers turned themselves over the police, but one guard on the plane managed to exit the aircraft and shoot dead one of the perpetrators, Abdul Mohsen Hassan.

Plane hijacking and the ‘hefty catch’

It was the summer of 1969. Khaled was happy and excited. She was chosen to carry out a shocking and unprecedented operation – evidence of the faith she enjoyed from the leadership that recognized her loyalty and abilities. She received training at the hands of PFLP member Salim Issawi in Jordan. He would also be her partner during the hijacking.

Haddad briefed them on the plan: Hijack a TWA flight flying from Los Angeles to Tel Aviv. The purpose was to exchange Palestinian prisoners with the Israeli passengers. Reportedly, a major Israeli figure was supposed to be on board the flight, which would have forced Israel to agree to negotiate. Khaled tried to find out who that important person was from Haddad, but he said that it was a “need to know” situation. She would later find out that it was General Yitzhak Rabin, who would later become prime minister. He would ultimately change his itinerary and deprive the hijackers of a “hefty catch”.

Khaled would undergo intense training for four months. She would learn about how planes work and about maps and coordinates and what to do if the aircraft encountered turbulence. The American flight had two stops in Europe, Rome and Athens, before arriving in Tel Aviv. Khaled and Issawi departed Beirut to Rome and booked a flight to Athens.

August 29, 1969, was the day it happened. Khaled sat in first class with Issawi. The plan would go into action a half hour into the flight when the plane was at 35,000 feet. They took out their weapons and asked the first class passengers to head to the tourist class. Issawi and Khaled then stormed the cockpit.

She told the pilot: “I am Captain Shadia Abou Ghazaleh of the Che Guevara unit in the PFLP.” She informed him that she would take command. She took his headset and microphone. He noticed that she had taken off the pin of a hand grenade she was carrying and asked that she rest her hand so that the explosive would not go off.

“I explained to the pilot and the copilot that we were not here to kill or blow up anyone. We only want our rightful demands,” she added. “I asked that the plane’s code be changed to Popular Front Liberated Arab Palestine. I told them that we will not respond to any call that does not use that code. I asked the pilot to head directly to Tel Aviv without stopping in Athens.”

She added: “We didn’t want to land in Tel Aviv. We only wanted to fly over the Palestinian territories to remind the world of our cause.” She told the pilot that they wanted to fly to Syria. “I heard an exchange between the Damascus and Beirut watch towers. The Syrians asked: ‘Where is this plane going?’ The Lebanese replied: ‘Not to us. It’s headed to you.’”

Damascus airport was still new and not operating at full capacity. This was the first American flight to land there. Haddad had not informed the Syrian authorities of his plan ahead of time because he did not trust them.

“The plane landed in Damascus according to plan. We turned ourselves over to the authorities and explained to them why we did what we did,” said Khaled.

The passengers, some 122 of them, ran towards the airport building. Only a small group ran towards the fence. “I told the police that they may be Israelis and indeed, they were,” recalled Khaled.

“A Syrian officer asked us: ‘Why did you come to us?’ Shocked, I replied: ‘I came to Syria, not to Israel.’ He was angered by this, but the operation had still gone according to plan,” she said. The ensuing negotiations led to the release of 23 Palestinian and Arab prisoners and two Syrian pilots, who were detained during the 1867 war.


Leila Khaled is seen holding up a map of Palestine after addressing the crowd at the DOCC Hall in Orlando East, Soweto, South Africa in 2015 (Getty)

‘Salem’, ‘Mariam’ and ‘Mujahed’

The popularity of the PFLP and Haddad would skyrocket after the first hijackings. Anti-West groups and individuals seeking an opportunity to tangle with their perceived enemy soon poured into the Middle East. The PFLP’s External Operations would later become tied to a group of people from diverse nationalities. Jordan was their preferred destination because the Palestinian factions had set up base there while the Jordanian army did little to stop them because it wanted to avert a clash that would eventually happen later.

The relations between these groups would start off with reaching common political ground. Once firmly established, they would begin to cooperate according to a specific agenda. They would exchange information, documents and weapons. They would also provide facilitations and trainings and sometimes take part in direct operations.

The West named the network that was established by Haddad the “empire of terrorism” because of the many foreigners who were involved. The External Operations would become a hub and training and planning ground that would produce figures that shocked the world with their violence: Venezuela’s “Salem”, who was none other than the infamous Carlos, “Mariam”, who was Fusako Shigenobu, head of the Japanese Red Army, and “Mujahid”, who was Hagop Hagopian, head of the Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia.

After his death, Haddad’s “students” would eventually be tracked down. Some would be shot dead and others would land in jail. Perhaps their downfall could be blamed on their poor organization and lack of uniting leadership. Perhaps they committed the error of forming ties with countries and agencies. Of course, infamy could be lethal in a world that must be shrouded in secrecy.

In 1970, Jordan was at boiling point. Coexistence between the army and Palestinian factions had grown fragile and strained. Coexistence between two authorities in the same country is unwieldly at best. Ceasefires acted more as sedatives in the buildup to zero hour when one party had to give.

In July 1970, the Israeli Mossad tried to assassinate Haddad in Beirut. They attacked his bedroom, but he was in another room where he was deep in conversation with Khaled. Both came out alive. These discussions would move to the American University of Beirut hospital where Haddad’s wife was treating their son, Hani.

At the hospital, Khaled would study a book on flight movements all over the world. She searched for El Al and noted the pattern of flights to and from Tel Aviv. She said she proposed to Haddad carrying out a new hijacking in retaliation to the attempt on his life. He agreed and asked her to follow up on it and bring in female comrades to train.

The day of plane hijackings

Haddad would send Khaled to a dinner with people she did not know. One of the guests told her he had just returned from a hunting trip in Jordan where he came across a facility, similar to an airport, that the British had used for their trainings. She eagerly listened and asked more about the location to determine if it was suitable for her plan.

Khaled said she vividly remembers that night. “I was eager for the dinner to be over so I could go back to Haddad and tell him all about what I had learned. It was decided that I would go scout the location. I was accompanied by a comrade from the Arab Nationalist Movement. At the facility, I ran around to test the firmness of the ground. My comrade asked me why I was so interested and I replied that I was looking for an appropriate training ground.”

The plan called for hijacking three planes at once and flying them to what was called the “revolutionary airport” - the Jordanian site. “Negotiations would then be held over the liberation of prisoners held in enemy and European jails,” Khaled said.

September 6, 1970, would become known as the day of plane hijackings in the world. All eyes turned to the “revolutionary airport”. The attempt to hijack an El Al flight was thwarted while it was in the air. Two planes, one Swiss and one American, were blown up at the airport. Another American plane was blown up at Cairo airport.

Luck was not on Khaled’s side this time. Four of her accomplices were supposed to board the El Al flight in Amsterdam, but two failed to secure a reservation. She boarded the plane with her accomplice, Patrick Argüello. The hijacking failed and the plane landed in London. Argüello was killed by a marshal that was on the plane and Khaled threw a hand grenade that did not explode. She was arrested in Britain. After an investigation and weeks of detention, authorities were forced to release her as part of an exchange.

Mossad under the bed

I asked her if the Mossad had ever managed to reach her. She replied: “Yes, in Beirut. They planted an explosive under my bed. Security measures at the time demanded that we change our apartments constantly. I was training women in the South and the Bekaa. I would return exhausted to my temporary furnished apartment in the capital. I would immediately collapse in bed and get as much rest as possible because Wadie would often send for me and he believed that we had no right to feel tired.”

That day, Khaled returned to her apartment in Beirut’s Caracas neighborhood and by chance, she noticed a black box under her bed. “I wasn’t sure if that box was mine. I had my doubts. I immediately went to the PFLP office. A explosives expert head to the apartment and discovered that the box held ten kilograms of explosives.”



Four Iranian Narratives on the Collapse of the ‘Resistance’ in Syria  

Iran's General Qassem Soleimani makes a phone call near the historic Citadel of Aleppo, winter 2016. (Fars)
Iran's General Qassem Soleimani makes a phone call near the historic Citadel of Aleppo, winter 2016. (Fars)
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Four Iranian Narratives on the Collapse of the ‘Resistance’ in Syria  

Iran's General Qassem Soleimani makes a phone call near the historic Citadel of Aleppo, winter 2016. (Fars)
Iran's General Qassem Soleimani makes a phone call near the historic Citadel of Aleppo, winter 2016. (Fars)

One hundred and ninety-two days separated the last meeting between Iran’s Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and Syria’s ousted President Bashar al-Assad in Tehran from the moment the Syrian regime fell to the opposition in December 2024.

That interval was no footnote in the Syrian war. It became a sharp mirror inside Tehran, reflecting the magnitude of the wager Iran’s leadership had placed on Assad, and the limits of its ability to anticipate the trajectory of the conflict and shifts in the regional balance of power.

At that meeting, Khamenei laid out the essence of his “Syrian doctrine” amid changing realities across the “Axis of Resistance.” Syria, he argued, was no ordinary state but one with a “special place” because its identity, in his view, stemmed from its role in this axis.

Since “resistance is Syria’s defining identity and must be preserved,” he addressed Assad not as a political ally but as a partner in that identity. He praised Assad for once saying that “the cost of resistance is lower than the cost of compromise” and that “whenever we retreat, the other side advances.” Thus, Khamenei reaffirmed his full - if belated – gamble on the regime’s survival, even as signs of collapse were unmistakable on the ground.

Less than seven months later, the regime would fall. Assad’s collapse would yield several Iranian narratives: the Supreme Leader’s, the Revolutionary Guard’s, the diplomatic narrative, and a fourth voiced from within the system itself, one that raised blunt questions about the price of Iran’s Syrian gamble.

Khamenei’s narrative

In his first speech after Assad’s fall, Khamenei offered a hard-edged explanation: the event, he said, was the product of a “joint American-Zionist plot,” aided by neighboring states. He spoke of factors that he claimed prevented Iran from providing the necessary support, including Israeli and US strikes inside Syria and the closure of air and land corridors to Iranian supplies.

He concluded that the decisive flaw lay within Syria itself, where the “spirit of resistance” had eroded in state institutions.

He stressed that the regime’s fall did not mean the fall of the idea of “resistance,” predicting that “patriotic Syrian youth” would one day revive it in a new form.

This narrative rejects the notion of strategic defeat: for Khamenei, what happened is not the end of the struggle, but a harsh phase in a longer one.

Revolutionary Guard’s narrative

The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) adopted a language closer to national security logic than pure ideology, though it drew from the same lexicon. In 2013, cleric Mehdi Taeb, head of the IRGC’s Ammar Headquarters think tank, framed the equation starkly: “Syria is our 35th province... If the enemy attacks Syria or Khuzestan, our priority is to keep Syria.”

With that shocking sentence, Syria was elevated to the level of Iranian strategic geography, sometimes above parts of Iran itself.

Late General Qassem Soleimani, then commander of the Quds Force, became the chief architect of this approach: confronting threats abroad by building multinational militia networks and using the “protection of shrines” as a mobilizing slogan that fused ideology with national security calculations.

A month after Assad’s fall, at a memorial for Soleimani, Khamenei reaffirmed this school of thought, linking the defense of shrines in Damascus and Iraq to the defense of “Iran as a sanctuary,” aiming to bind various fronts into a single cross-border security-sectarian struggle.

After the Syrian regime’s collapse, this narrative preserved its core: success or failure is not defined by who sits in Damascus, but by whether the IRGC’s influence networks remain intact and whether Iran still has access to Syrian depth.

Full withdrawal would amount, in this logic, to admitting that the “35th province” had slipped from the map, so the IRGC will continue to search for any possible foothold.

Diplomatic narrative

Iran’s diplomatic apparatus sought to tell a softer story. Weeks before the fall, Khamenei dispatched his adviser Ali Larijani to Damascus and Beirut with reassuring messages for Assad and other allies, publicly asserting that events in Syria and Lebanon “directly concern Iran’s national security.”

Days later, Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi visited Damascus just six days before the collapse, even posing with shawarma in a downtown restaurant to signal “normalcy” and dismiss talk of impending downfall as “psychological warfare.”

It was the peak of the gap between diplomatic messaging and a disintegrating reality.

Afterward, the Foreign Ministry adopted a defensive formula: Iran had “responded to the request of an allied government”, but “cannot decide on behalf of peoples.” Thus, responsibility was shifted toward Syrian internal failures and the external “conspiracy” often invoked by Khamenei.

This narrative treats Syria as one file among many, not an existential arena as seen by the IRGC and the Leader.

‘Open account’ narrative

The fourth narrative emerged, unexpectedly, from within the establishment itself. For the first time, semi-public acknowledgments surfaced that the economic return on Iran’s Syrian adventure was nearly nil and that the political-security “investment” had resulted in something resembling a net loss.

In 2020, former member of the Iranian parliamentary national security and foreign policy committee, Heshmatollah Falahatpisheh revealed that Tehran had spent “$20-30 billion” in Syria, insisting: “This is the people’s money and must be recovered.”

Five years later, he returned with a more bitter charge: Syria’s debts to Iran were effectively settled through “land without oil, cow farms without cows, and empty promises.”

This view is no outlier. Over a decade, Iranian protest slogans increasingly linked “Gaza, Lebanon, Syria” with bread, fuel, and economic hardship at home.

With Assad gone, critics more easily argue that Iran spent tens of billions and paid a human cost among its fighters and proxies, only to end up with almost no influence in Damascus.

For decision-makers, this narrative becomes domestic pressure against any large-scale return to Syria.

Four scenarios for Tehran

Taken together, these narratives reveal a deep contradiction: the IRGC and Khamenei refuse to concede that Iran “lost Syria,” treating the episode as one phase in a longer struggle. Meanwhile, the diplomatic and economic narratives acknowledge, implicitly, that the previous intervention model is no longer sustainable.

Four broad scenarios emerge. The first is a return through proxies, closest to the IRGC’s logic: Iran would rebuild influence from the ground up through militias - old or newly recruited - to pressure any future authority in Damascus.

The second is regional repositioning without Syria, in which Iran shifts resources to arenas where it still holds leverage, including Lebanon, Iraq, Yemen and Gaza, while limiting its role in Syria to preventing hostile entrenchment.

The third is a “gray” re-entry: a gradual, negotiated, non-confrontational return through localized deals or modest economic and security projects, allowing Tehran to claim continued presence without the cost of backing a single ruler.

The fourth is institutionalizing the loss: Iran accepts Syria’s departure from its strategic depth, but repackages the outcome within a narrative of “conspiracy and steadfastness,” using it to tighten internal control while maintaining symbolic presence through shrine rhetoric and minimal diplomacy.

Across all scenarios, one fact remains. Syria, which was once described as more vital than Khuzestan and the “distinct identity of resistance”, is no longer what it was before December 8, 2024 when the regime collapsed.

Tehran can invoke time, the IRGC can search for openings, diplomats can polish their statements, and critics can lament “land without oil.” But one question looms over every debate in Iran: Can Tehran afford a second Syrian-sized gamble after emerging from the first still trying to convince itself that the “resistance factor” remains standing, even as its Syrian pillar has broken?


A Year After Assad’s Fall, Families of Missing Detainees Languish without Answers 

Amina Beqai holds a photo of her husband, who went missing after he was arrested by security forces under the rule of ousted President Bashar al-Assad, in Damascus, Syria, November 23, 2025. (Reuters)
Amina Beqai holds a photo of her husband, who went missing after he was arrested by security forces under the rule of ousted President Bashar al-Assad, in Damascus, Syria, November 23, 2025. (Reuters)
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A Year After Assad’s Fall, Families of Missing Detainees Languish without Answers 

Amina Beqai holds a photo of her husband, who went missing after he was arrested by security forces under the rule of ousted President Bashar al-Assad, in Damascus, Syria, November 23, 2025. (Reuters)
Amina Beqai holds a photo of her husband, who went missing after he was arrested by security forces under the rule of ousted President Bashar al-Assad, in Damascus, Syria, November 23, 2025. (Reuters)

A year after dictator Bashar al-Assad's ouster in Syria, little has changed in Amina Beqai's desperate quest. She types her missing husband's name yet again into an internet search box, hoping for answers to a 13-year-old question. In vain.

Beqai has nowhere else to turn.

A National Commission for Missing Persons established in May has been gathering evidence of enforced disappearances under Assad, but has yet to offer families any clues on the estimated 150,000 people who vanished in his notorious prisons.

They include Beqai's husband Mahmoud, arrested by Syria's security forces at their home near Damascus on April 17, 2012, and her brother Ahmed, detained in August that year.

Assad's overthrow initially stirred hope that prison records could tell families if, when and how their loved ones died. Mass graves dug by Assad's forces across Syria could be exhumed. Victims could be properly buried.

None of that has transpired.

"It's been a year. They didn't do anything ... Is it thinkable that they didn't even get the documents for these men? Showing us the truth is what we want," Beqai told Reuters.

FADING HOPES

As opposition fighters swept through Syrian towns last year on the way to capturing Damascus, they rushed first to the jails, flinging doors open to free thousands of bewildered prisoners.

On December 8, 2024, hours after Assad fled to Russia, the fighters freed dozens of prisoners from Sednaya, dubbed "the human slaughterhouse" by Amnesty International for the industrial-scale torture and executions undertaken there.

The emerging detainees did not include Beqai's loved ones.

"When the prisons were open, and they didn't come back – that was the shock. That was when the hope ended, it really died," Beqai said. But she demands to know how, when and where her husband and brother may have died.

With no updates from the national commission, Beqai said she had become "obsessed" with her online hunt, scouring pictures of dead detainees and scans of prison documents published by Syrian news outlets who entered jails and security branches after Assad's fall.

"All there is left to do is sit and search," she said.

Such documents have revealed crucial information.

Sarah al-Khattab last saw her husband heading into a police station in Syria's south on February 9, 2019 to reconcile with Assad's government after years holed up with insurgents.

She has had no news of him since.

A spreadsheet of dead Sednaya prisoners seen by Reuters after Assad's fall included his name, Ali Mohsen al-Baridi, dating his death as October 22, 2019 from "stopped pulse and breathing" with orders that the body not be given to his family.

Reuters passed its finding to the Syrian Justice and Accountability Center, an advocacy group working with families of the missing, who informed Khattab.

COMMISSION SEEKS HELP, OVERSIGHT

The national commission was established by new President Ahmed al-Sharaa. The commission's media adviser, Zeina Shahla, told Reuters its mandate includes any missing Syrian, no matter the circumstances.

"When it comes to the pain of the families, maybe we really are being slow. But this file needs progress to come carefully, in a way that is scientific and systemic and not rushed," she said.

Next year, the commission hopes to launch a database of all the missing using documents from prisons and other locations. Exhuming mass graves requires more technical expertise and probably won't happen until 2027, Shahla said.

The commission has met with Syrian advocacy groups and some families. In November, it signed a cooperation agreement with the Geneva-based International Committee of the Red Cross and the International Commission on Missing Persons, which have global expertise on the issue.

Syria's commission hopes that will lead to more training for its personnel and access to equipment in short supply in Syria, including DNA testing labs for exhumed remains.

"We welcome any kind of cooperation and support we can receive, as long as the issue remains under (our commission's) authority,” Shahla said.

RELATIVES, ACTIVISTS DEMAND BETTER

The government's approach has upset organizations who developed expertise on enforced disappearances while in exile during the Assad era, six rights groups told Reuters.

Many were excited to apply that knowledge on the ground with Assad gone, but say the government's centralized approach has excluded them, slowed progress and left families in limbo.

"When you have as many as a quarter of a million people missing, you can't do that. You break up the work," said Ahmad Helmi, a Syrian activist who leads Ta'afi, an initiative focused on missing detainees and prison survivors.

Activists also accuse the commission of "monopolizing" detention-related documents.

In September, Syrian authorities briefly detained Amer Matar, an activist who founded a virtual museum to preserve detainees' experiences, accusing him of illegally accessing official documents for personal purposes.

In November, the commission urged families not to believe any detention-related documents shared on unofficial online platforms, like the ones Beqai has been searching, and threatened legal action against those outlets.

"The commission wants to monopolize the file, but it lacks the tools, the competence and the transparency. It demands the trust of families but delivers no results," Matar said.

Shahla said the commission is "the central, official body authorized to reveal the fate" of missing people and that families needed one place to go to for accurate answers.

Agnes Callamard, head of Amnesty International, said the commission should issue regular updates about its progress and consider granting financial aid to relatives of missing people.

"The most important thing ... the national commission can do at the moment is ensuring that families feel they are being heard and being supported," she told Reuters.

As Syria marks a year since Assad's downfall, many people remain exhausted by the same burden that plagued them under his rule: the lack of closure.

Alia Darraji last saw her son Yazan on November 1, 2014, as he left home to meet friends near Damascus. He never returned.

In the last year, the elderly woman has spent time in "truth tents" - sit-ins demanding information on disappeared Syrians that were unthinkable under Assad. While solidarity has helped, it hasn't given her what her heart aches for.

"We were hoping to find their bodies, to bury them, or to find out where they are," Darraji said.


‘It’s All Over’: How Iran Abandoned Assad to His Fate Days Before Fall

 Iran was a staunch backer of Bashar al-Assad but quickly withdrew its forces once as opposition forces took over Syria. (AFP)
Iran was a staunch backer of Bashar al-Assad but quickly withdrew its forces once as opposition forces took over Syria. (AFP)
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‘It’s All Over’: How Iran Abandoned Assad to His Fate Days Before Fall

 Iran was a staunch backer of Bashar al-Assad but quickly withdrew its forces once as opposition forces took over Syria. (AFP)
Iran was a staunch backer of Bashar al-Assad but quickly withdrew its forces once as opposition forces took over Syria. (AFP)

As city after city fell to a lightning opposition offensive in Syria last December, Iranian forces and diplomats supporting Bashar al-Assad saw the writing on the wall, abandoning the longtime ruler days before his ousting, sources told AFP.

During Syria's civil war, which erupted in 2011 following the government's brutal repression of pro-democracy protests, Iran was one of Damascus's biggest backers, sending Assad military advisers and forces from its Revolutionary Guards.

Iranian and allied regional fighters -- mainly from Lebanon's Hezbollah, but also from Iraq and Afghanistan -- had held key locations and helped prop up Assad, only to melt away in the face of opposition forces' headlong rush towards the capital.

Syrian officers and soldiers served under the Iranian Guards, whose influence grew during the conflict as Assad's power waned.

A former Syrian officer assigned to one of the Guards' security headquarters in Damascus said that on December 5 last year, his Iranian superior summoned him to an operations center in the Mazzeh district the following day to discuss an "important matter".

The former officer, requesting anonymity due to fears for his safety, said his superior, known as Hajj Abu Ibrahim, made a bombshell announcement to around 20 Syrian officers and soldiers gathered for the meeting.

"From today, there will be no more Iranian Revolutionary Guards in Syria. We're leaving," they were told.

"It's all over. From today, we are no longer responsible for you."

He said they were ordered to burn or otherwise destroy sensitive documents and remove hard drives from computers.

- Border bottleneck -

The announcement came as the opposition forces were making huge gains, but it still took the Syrian soldiers by surprise, he said.

"We knew things hadn't been going well, but not to that extent."

They received one month's salary in advance and went home.

Two days later the opposition forces captured Damascus without a fight after Assad fled to Russia.

Two Syrian employees of Iran's consulate in Damascus, requesting anonymity for security reasons, also described a hasty Iranian exit.

The consulate was empty by the evening of December 5 as Iranian diplomats scarpered across the border to Beirut, they told AFP.

Several Syrian employees "who held Iranian nationality left with them, accompanied by senior Revolutionary Guards officers", according to one of the former employees.

At Jdeidet Yabus, Syria's main border crossing with Lebanon, taxi drivers and former staff reported a massive bottleneck on December 5 and 6, with an eight-hour wait to clear the frontier.

Both of the former consulate employees said the Iranians told their Syrian personnel to stay home and paid them three months' salary.

The embassy, consulate and all Iranian security positions were deserted by the morning of December 6, they said.

- Russian base -

During the war, forces under Iranian command were concentrated in sensitive areas inside Damascus and its suburbs, particularly the Sayyida Zeinab area, home to an important Shiite shrine, and around Damascus airport, as well as near the Lebanese and Iraqi borders.

Parts of the northern city of Aleppo and locations elsewhere in the province were also major staging areas for personnel and fighters.

At a site that used to be a key military base for Iranian forces south of Aleppo, Colonel Mohammad Dibo said that when the city fell early in the opposition campaign, "Iran stopped fighting".

Iranian forces "had to withdraw suddenly after the quick collapse" of Assad's military, said Dibo, who took part in the opposition offensive and now serves in Syria's new army.

On the heavily damaged walls of the abandoned base, an AFP journalist saw Iranian and Hezbollah slogans, and a painting of a sword tearing through an Israeli flag.

Tehran's foe Israel had launched hundreds of strikes on Syria over the course of the war, mainly saying it was targeting Assad's army and Iran-backed groups.

The former Syrian army officer who requested anonymity said that on December 5, a senior Iranian military official known as Hajj Jawad and several Iranian soldiers and officers were evacuated to Russia's Hmeimim base on the Mediterranean coast, then flown back to Tehran.

At the abandoned site near Aleppo, Dibo said that after the city's fall, "some 4,000 Iranian military personnel were evacuated via Russia's Hmeimim base" where they had taken refuge.

Others fled overland through Iraq or Lebanon, he said.

Their exit was so rushed that "when we entered their bases" in Aleppo province, "we found passports and identity documents belonging to Iranian officers who didn't even have time to retrieve them."