Assad-era Plot to Hide Thousands of Syria's Dead Turned Desert into a Mass Grave

A drone view of imprints, made by bulldozer tracks, on the soil covering a burial trench of a mass grave in the eastern Syrian desert near the town of Dhumair, February 27, 2025. REUTERS/Khalil Ashawi
A drone view of imprints, made by bulldozer tracks, on the soil covering a burial trench of a mass grave in the eastern Syrian desert near the town of Dhumair, February 27, 2025. REUTERS/Khalil Ashawi
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Assad-era Plot to Hide Thousands of Syria's Dead Turned Desert into a Mass Grave

A drone view of imprints, made by bulldozer tracks, on the soil covering a burial trench of a mass grave in the eastern Syrian desert near the town of Dhumair, February 27, 2025. REUTERS/Khalil Ashawi
A drone view of imprints, made by bulldozer tracks, on the soil covering a burial trench of a mass grave in the eastern Syrian desert near the town of Dhumair, February 27, 2025. REUTERS/Khalil Ashawi

There was no mistaking the reek of death that rose along the Syrian desert highway four nights a week for nearly two years. It was the smell of thousands of bodies being trucked from one mass grave to another, secret location.

Drivers were forbidden to leave their cabs. Mechanics and bulldozer operators were sworn to silence and knew they’d pay with their lives for speaking out. Orders for “Operation Move Earth” were verbal only. The transfer was orchestrated by one Syrian colonel, who would ultimately spend nearly a decade burying Syrian President Bashar al-Assad’s dead.

The order for the transfer came from the presidential palace. The colonel, known as Assad’s “master of cleansing,” directed the operation from 2019 to 2021.

The first grave, in the Damascus-area town of Qutayfah, contained trenches filled with the remains of people who died in prison, under interrogation or during battle. That mass grave’s existence had been exposed by human rights activists during the civil war and was long considered one of Syria’s largest.

But a Reuters investigation has found that the Assad government secretly excavated the Qutayfah site and trucked its thousands of bodies to a new site on a military installation more than an hour away, in the Dhumair desert.

In an exclusive report published Tuesday, Reuters revealed the clandestine reburial scheme and the existence of the second mass grave. Reuters can now expose, in forensic detail, how those responsible carried out the conspiracy and kept it a secret for six years.

Reuters spoke to 13 people with direct knowledge of the two-year effort to move the bodies and analyzed more than 500 satellite images of both mass graves taken over more than a decade that showed not just the Qutayfah grave’s creation but also how, as its burial trenches were re-opened and excavated, the secret new site expanded until it covered a vast stretch of desert.

Reuters used aerial drone photography to further corroborate the transfer of bodies. Under the guidance of forensic geologists, the news agency also took thousands of drone and ground photos of the two sites to create high-resolution composite images. At Dhumair, the drone flights showed the disturbed soil around the burial trenches was darker and redder than nearby undisturbed areas – the kind of change that would be expected if Qutayfah’s subsoil were added to the soil at Dhumair, according to Lorna Dawson and Benjamin Rocke, the geologists who advised Reuters.

Syria is dotted with mass graves, but the secret site that Reuters discovered is among the largest known. With at least 34 trenches totaling 2 kilometers long, the grave near the desert town of Dhumair is among the most extensive created during the country’s civil war. Witness accounts and the dimensions of the new site suggest that tens of thousands of people could be buried there.

To reduce the chance that intruders may tamper with the site before it can be protected, Reuters is not revealing its location.

After the initial story by Reuters, the government’s new National Commission for Missing Persons said it had asked the Interior Ministry to seal and protect the Dhumair site. The commission told Reuters the haphazard transfer of bodies to Dhumair would make the process of identifying victims more difficult.

“Each family of a missing person faces particular suffering intertwined with scientific complexities that could turn the identification process into a lengthy and costly technical project,” the commission said.

For four nights nearly every week, six to eight trucks filled with dirt, human remains and maggots traveled to the Dhumair desert site, according to the witnesses involved in the operation. The stench clung to the clothes and hair of everyone involved, according to descriptions from witnesses, including two truckers, three mechanics, a bulldozer operator and a former officer from Assad’s elite Republican Guard who was involved from the earliest days of the transfer.

The idea to move thousands of bodies came into being in late 2018, when Assad was verging on victory in Syria’s civil war, said the former Republican Guard officer. The dictator was hoping to regain international recognition after being sidelined by years of sanctions and allegations of brutality, the officer said.

At the time, Assad had already been accused of detaining Syrians by the thousands. But no independent Syrian groups or international organizations had access to the prisons or the mass graves.

At a 2018 meeting with Russian intelligence, Assad was assured that allies were actively working to end his isolation, the officer said. The Russians advised the dictator to hide evidence of widespread human rights violations. “Most notably arrests, mass graves, and chemical attacks,” he said.

Two truckers and the officer told Reuters they were told the point of the transfer was to clear out the Qutayfah mass grave and hide evidence of mass killings.

Qutayfah’s first trench appeared on satellite imagery in 2012. A Syrian human rights activist exposed Qutayfah by releasing photos to local media in 2014, revealing the existence of the grave and its general location on the outskirts of Damascus, and accused Assad of using the site to conceal the sheer volume of people killed under his leadership. Its precise location came to light a few years later, in court testimony and other media reports.

By the time Assad fell, however, all 16 trenches documented by Reuters had been emptied.

Russia’s foreign intelligence service declined to comment, and a legal advisor for Assad did not respond to requests for comment on Reuters’ findings.

More than 160,000 people disappeared into the deposed dictator’s vast security apparatus and are believed to be buried in the dozens of mass graves he created, according to Syrian rights groups.

The government has estimated the missing since the Assad family’s rule began in 1970 at up to 300,000.

Organized excavation and DNA analysis could help trace what happened to them, easing one of Syria’s most painful faultlines.

But with few resources in Syria, even well-known mass graves are largely unprotected and unexcavated. And the country’s new leaders, who overthrew Assad in December, have released no documentation for any of them, despite repeated calls from the families of the missing.

The National Commission for Missing People said that’s because many records have disappeared or been destroyed, and the gaps in data are immense even for well-known sites like Qutayfah.

There are plans to create a DNA bank and a centralized digital platform for families of the missing, but not enough specialists in forensic medicine and DNA testing, they said.

Reuters reviewed court testimony and dozens of signed documents showing the chain of command from prison deathbeds to morgues. Many of those documents bore the official stamp of the same colonel who oversaw the two mass burial sites: Col. Mazen Ismandar.

All those interviewed who were involved in the transfer of bodies recalled nights working for Ismandar.

Ahmed Ghazal, a mechanic, described nighttime repairs throughout that period in which soldiers ordered him to clear out his garage so the trucks could be fixed quickly and out of sight. Ghazal told Reuters he didn’t believe their initial explanation, that the smell of rot came from chemicals and expired medicine.

He saw the bodies for the first time when he jumped inside the truck bed during a repair job. Then, after a decaying human hand fell on one of his apprentices, Ghazal said curiosity got the better of him and he approached one of the military drivers to ask where the bodies were from. That driver told him they were from Qutayfah, and that the orders were to move them before Syria could open itself to international scrutiny.

Ghazal, who led Reuters to the Dhumair site, described the events he’d witnessed there in a methodical, deep voice. But he said he never spoke out at the time.

To talk, he said, “means death. Just by talking, what happened to the people who are buried here might happen to you.”

Reuters spoke to the driver as well, who recalled his conversation with Ghazal and said Col. Ismandar warned they’d pay if anyone spoke of what they’d seen.

Contacted through intermediaries, Ismandar declined to comment on Reuters’ findings.

“If I’d been able to act freely, I wouldn’t have taken this job. I am a servant to the orders, a slave to the orders,” the driver said. “I was overwhelmed with feelings of fear, the terrible smell and a sense of guilt.”

When he would return home at sunrise, he said, he doused himself with cologne.

“THE MASTER OF CLEANSING”

As an opposition movement against Assad’s rule deteriorated into civil war in 2012, the town of Qutayfah, on the outskirts of Damascus, was one of the few places firmly under government control. So it was to a military site there that people brought the bodies they found during the early days of fighting and Assad’s furious efforts to contain the uprising, said Anwar Haj Khalil, the former head of the city council.

By 2013, truckloads of bodies were arriving from hospitals, detention centers and battlefields. There were so many corpses that two government-owned food distributors – meatpackers and another company that distributed fruit and vegetables – redirected their refrigerated trucks to haul the dead to Qutayfah, according to Haj Khalil and a former brigadier general in the Syrian Army’s 3rd Division, which coordinated burial logistics. The former brigadier general, like many involved in the conspiracy, requested anonymity to describe how it worked.

But no one wanted the responsibility of burying the bodies, said Haj Khalil, who still lives in the area.

They needed a person to oversee the operations and the site. Ismandar began playing that role as early as 2012, according to multiple witnesses and court testimony. He was introduced to the 3rd Division crew as the “master of cleansing operations,” according to the division’s officer.

Ismandar’s actual title, according to documents from 2018 bearing his stamp and reviewed by Reuters, was budget manager for the Syrian military’s Medical Services. That unit was one of the most powerful government bodies, with control over medical care for soldiers and anyone taken to military hospitals, including thousands of prisoners whose deaths were recorded there.

Ismandar and a 3rd Division commander jointly settled upon a communal plot controlled by the military in Qutayfah, Haj Khalil and the brigadier general said.

Initially, bodies came in a few dozen at a time from two nearby hospitals. They had shrouds inked with names, Haj Khalil said. But within a few months, he said, he grew wearily used to calls from Ismandar after midnight to dispose of bodies from the Tishreen Military Hospital outside Damascus. Another officer would call Haj Khalil to dispose of the bodies from the notorious Sednaya Prison.

“Ismandar would tell me, ‘The refrigerator trucks are headed your way. Tell the bulldozer to meet us at the site in a half-hour,’” Haj Khalil said.

Initially, all the bodies from Tishreen and Sednaya were blindfolded, their hands bound with plastic strips, according to a bulldozer operator who worked at Qutayfah beginning in 2014. He said those from Tishreen first arrived in body bags, then in nylon bags, and then in no bags at all. Nearly all were naked, said the operator, who recalled his phone ringing at 2 a.m. with orders to start digging.

The early trenches dug by the army were too shallow, and “were partly the reason I was summoned,” the bulldozer operator said. “Given the nature of the soil, which is mixed with gravel and small stones, the odor quickly spread.” Locals complained about the smell and the dogs who were drawn to it, he said.

He said he dug each trench roughly 4 meters deep and wide, and between 75 and 90 meters long. His account corresponds to satellite imagery analyzed by Reuters: The images from 2013 when trench digging began in earnest appear to show shallow trenches, followed by longer and deeper gashes in the earth in 2014.

“I couldn’t sleep or eat for the first two weeks because of the horror of what I saw,” the bulldozer operator told Reuters. “But after that, something inside me snapped and I got used to it.”

All the while, Ismandar maintained a series of logbooks detailing the number of bodies arriving and the security branch that sent them, according to sworn testimony from a gravedigger named Mohammed Afif Naifa in German and US cases involving allegations of torture against the Assad government. Naifa told a German court that he worked with Ismandar from 2011 to 2017 and coordinated the burials of political prisoners. Naifa, whose testimony referred to Qutayfah but didn’t touch upon Dhumair, declined to speak with Reuters.

He testified that the numbers in the logbooks undercounted the true number of bodies he helped bury. The victims, he said, included babies and young children.

“This system of undercounting is how the regime disappeared and buried so many more people than were recorded,” Naifa testified in 2024 in a US civil suit that was brought by a torture victim against the Assad government.

Ismandar’s name appeared 73 times among thousands of documents from 2018 and 2019 Reuters found and photographed during a visit to a military police forensics office that was abandoned in December as the forces of Ahmed al-Sharaa, now Syria’s president, swept to power in Damascus.

An inked stamp bearing Ismandar’s name appeared on documents from 2018 and 2019 that track how prisoners were taken first to Tishreen Military Hospital and then – after death – to the Harsta Military Hospital to be stored. The documents don’t mention mass graves.

From at least 2013 through 2018, however, 16 burial trenches were dug at Qutayfah with a total length of more than 1.2 kilometers, the Reuters analysis of satellite imagery and aerial drone photography found.

Local roads were closed when the trucks rumbled into the gravesite. In 2014, one of the trucks broke down on the highway and everyone in the convoy en route to Qutayfah stopped, according to the 3rd Division officer, who accompanied the group. Naifa gave a matching account of the incident.

The 3rd Division officer said he took a furious call from Ismandar’s commanding officer, Maj. Gen. Ammar Suleiman: “Orders from Mr. President: Block the international road until help comes.”

Suleiman was one of Syria’s top generals and part of Assad’s trusted inner circle. He led the military Medical Services and was Ismandar’s direct commander. His involvement was also confirmed in Naifa’s testimony and by a commander of the National Defense, a paramilitary that reported directly to Assad and was involved in Syria’s most sensitive security operations.

Suleiman did not respond to a message seeking comment.

Reuters didn’t find any documentation containing direct orders from Assad about mass graves in general or Operation Move Earth. But the Republican Guard officer and the National Defense commander said it was inconceivable that Assad hadn’t ordered it.

“I challenge you to find anything issued in Bashar al-Assad's name,” said the National Defense commander. “He knew that reckoning would come one day, and he wanted to keep his hands clean.”

Based on the pace of deliveries over those years, Haj Khalil, the former council chief, estimated Qutayfah held 60,000 to 80,000 dead by the end of 2018. That’s when the trench digging stopped, according to the Reuters satellite imagery analysis.

By then, with the help of Russia and Iran, Assad was widely seen as the victor in the civil war. Still, he had lost control of much of northern Syria to Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, or HTS, and to Kurdish forces, who each carved out autonomous regions.

One evening late in 2018, Assad summoned four military and intelligence chiefs to the presidential palace to discuss what to do about the mass graves, especially the Qutayfah site, said the Republican Guard officer. The officer worked in the palace at the time and said he was among a handful of people to see the meeting minutes.

The military intelligence chief, Kamal Hassan, came up with the idea of excavating the entire Qutayfah mass grave and moving the contents somewhere more remote, the officer said.

“The idea seemed crazy to most who heard it, but it received a green light from Assad,” he said. The main criterion for a new site was that it be under military control, he said.

Military intelligence chief Hassan ordered weekly reports to be sent to the presidential palace, the officer said.

Reuters could not reach Hassan, who is not believed to be in Syria, for comment.

In November 2018, work started on a concrete wall around Qutayfah, according to the officer, former council head Haj Khalil and a Reuters analysis of satellite imagery. A February 2019 satellite image shows the wall surrounding the entire mass grave. At 3 meters high, it blocked any view of the site from ground level.

More than an hour away in the Syrian desert, in early February 2019, the first of at least 34 trenches appeared. A new operation had begun on a windswept military base near the town of Dhumair protected by a series of berms and fences and ringed by mountains on all sides.

OPERATION MOVE EARTH

Written orders said the mission was to transport dirt and sand to a construction site, according to the Republican Guard officer and Haj Khalil. Clean-shaven with graying hair, Ismandar gathered the drivers a few minutes before they started work on their first day. He explained that it was actually bodies that needed moving because the mass grave location at Qutayfah had been exposed, said the military driver.

It was called Operation Move Earth, according to the Republican Guard officer and the National Defense officer.

“The instructions on the first day were: No one carries or uses phones. No one leaves the trucks during loading or offloading of the bodies, on pain of death,” said one of the military drivers. “No one would dare violate the orders.”

The truckers generally left Qutayfah around sundown and were forbidden to exit their cabs during loading, the driver said. He could see Ismandar in the rearview mirror, gesturing to him where to park. His truck rocked each time the bulldozer emptied itself, five or six times.

“Some were merely decomposed skulls and bones, while others were still fresh,” said the Republican Guard officer, who oversaw the work directly. “There were also many maggots. Hundreds, if not thousands, of maggots fell with each dumping from the bulldozer's bucket into the truck.”

Then, on Ismandar’s orders, the vehicles pulled into a tight line and headed toward Dhumair, six to eight dull orange Mercedes dump trucks trailing the colonel’s white van.

An overwhelming stench traveled with the convoy. Drivers and mechanics invariably began their descriptions of those late nights with the smell that filled the air, four days a week, from February 2019 until April 2021, excluding holidays, snow days and a Covid confinement that in Syria lasted about four months.

After years of these journeys, the trucks’ payload was an open secret for people living near both sites, according to a resident who still recalled the odor. “Everyone saw us,” said one of the drivers.

Without excavation, a close estimate of how many bodies are buried at Dhumair is impossible. But a convoy of six to eight trucks making four trips a week means a conservative estimate of about 2,600 trips including the time off. Based on that and the size of the trucks, it is reasonable to believe tens of thousands of people could be buried at Dhumair, experts told Reuters.

By the time Operation Move Earth was done, each one of Qutayfah’s 16 trenches documented by Reuters had been opened, satellite imagery showed. In all, Dhumair contains 2 kilometers of trenches, according to Reuters calculations. The drivers and one mechanic said each was about 2 meters wide and 3 meters deep.

Reuters reporters who visited the site this year saw human bones scattered on the surface, including what experts identified as a fragment of a human skull.

Ghazal, the mechanic, said he encountered the convoy frequently. The trucks dated to the mid-1980s and were prone to malfunctions.

Their periodic appearances at his garage gave him a chance to discern two types of bodies headed for Dhumair. Some were decomposed and covered in soil. Others appeared to be freshly dead, including young men and women. His two cousins, who also worked at the garage, also told Reuters they saw recently deceased bodies. Reuters could not determine where the newly dead bodies came from.

Ghazal led a Reuters team to the site, which he could identify from having been summoned there for an urgent repair on a truck that wouldn’t budge.

“Everywhere you look,” he said, pointing at the empty desert, “there are people buried beneath the earth.”

Ammar Al Selmo, a board member for the White Helmets organization that helps find and excavate mass graves, was the first to alert Reuters to a possible mass grave in Dhumair. He said Qutayfah locals had told the White Helmets the mass grave there was empty and a witness in Dhumair reported the convoys with bodies, but Al Selmo said the organization is short on staff and resources and didn’t verify either claim.

After learning of Reuters’ findings, he said the White Helmets plan an initial visit in coming days.

A Reuters analysis of hundreds of satellite images taken over years indicated a color shift in the disturbed earth at the Dhumair site. But even the most sophisticated commercial images lack the resolution needed for a close examination of the soil.

So Reuters set out to take thousands of drone photos with the intention of creating higher-resolution composite images of Qutayfah and Dhumair, using specialized photogrammetry software.

The composites showed that bulldozers repeatedly passed over the trenches to tamp down the soil. They also supported Reuters’ key finding that bodies had been transferred from Qutayfah to Dhumair.

The analysis of the drone images found color changes around the Dhumair burial trenches that suggest subsoil characteristic of that found at Qutayfah may have been mixed in with the soil at Dhumair. That’s what could be expected if the soil dug up with human remains at Qutayfah was then added to the soil at Dhumair, according to Dawson, a pioneer in forensic soil science at The James Hutton Institute in Aberdeen, Scotland, and Rocke, who specializes in finding burial sites using remote imagery.

Dhumair’s final trench was filled in during the first week of April 2021, according to the satellite imagery analysis. By the end of that year, Qutayfah’s rubble had been flattened, in an attempt to obliterate any signs of the now-empty mass grave. In imagery for both sites, the earth still carries the scars of attempts to cover up the burials.

The intelligence chief who had first come up with the idea of moving the bodies to Dhumair received one of the last weekly reports about the operation in late 2021 and turned to the Republican Guard officer. “Syria is victorious and opening up to the world again” were his words, the officer recalled. “We want guests to come and find the country clean.”

Ismandar, like Assad and many others in the government, fled Syria after the dictator fell, according to two former military officers familiar with his movements.

With Assad gone, Ghazal said the mass graves were the first thing he thought of as he watched footage of thousands of Syrians streaming into Sednaya Prison in vain hope of finding missing loved ones. Some of the burial sites were already known, including Qutayfah.

In December 2024, several local and international media outlets visited the newly accessible site, including Reuters. So did an association for missing Syrians, which noted that Qutayfah had been bulldozed sometime between 2018 and 2021.

No one reported that the trenches were empty.

Ghazal, who still lives and works in the area, said no one ever came to search the site in the Dhumair desert that haunts him still.

So many Syrians, he said, were looking in the wrong place.



Health Workers at the Epicenter of Congo’s Ebola Outbreak Labor with Little Pay or Rest

A health worker disinfects an ambulance at the Mongbwalu treatment center that transported a suspected Ebola patient in Mongbwalu, Congo, Friday, June 5, 2026. (AP)
A health worker disinfects an ambulance at the Mongbwalu treatment center that transported a suspected Ebola patient in Mongbwalu, Congo, Friday, June 5, 2026. (AP)
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Health Workers at the Epicenter of Congo’s Ebola Outbreak Labor with Little Pay or Rest

A health worker disinfects an ambulance at the Mongbwalu treatment center that transported a suspected Ebola patient in Mongbwalu, Congo, Friday, June 5, 2026. (AP)
A health worker disinfects an ambulance at the Mongbwalu treatment center that transported a suspected Ebola patient in Mongbwalu, Congo, Friday, June 5, 2026. (AP)

Dr. Richard Lokudu, the medical director of Mongbwalu General Referral Hospital, has received barely any compensation for his work on the front line of one of Congo's deadliest Ebola virus outbreaks.

Lokudu and several of his colleagues work all day at the hospital treating an influx of patients. Notifications of suspected cases come even late at night.

“I have not received my allowance (and) what happened to others could happen to me as well,” Lokudu told The Associated Press. “Despite all the infection prevention and control measures we are implementing, we do not know what may happen.”

Health authorities believe the outbreak, which took the eastern region of Congo by surprise after spreading silently for weeks without detection, started in the bustling mining area of Mongbwalu in Ituri province.

Mining conditions conducive to virus spread Mongbwalu has emerged as the epicenter of the rare Bundibugyo type. The town attracts large numbers of laborers who work in large gold mines with muddy pools of gold deposits, narrow pits and caves. They live in low-income areas including crowded camps and have little access to proper health protocols.

The conditions increase the possibility of transmitting the disease, which spreads through close contact with bodily fluids of the sick and deceased such as sweat, blood, feces and vomit.

There also has been widespread skepticism regarding the disease, making the job of medical treatment more difficult for Lokudu and his colleagues, while some of the health workers and first responders have died from the disease.

“It is one thing to be far away and hear statistics being reported, but what is happening on the ground is enormous,” Lokudu said. “People are sacrificing their rest and comfort for this cause. There should be recognition that they deserve compensation. These workers should receive their salaries regularly.”

The Congolese government did not respond to a request for comment from the AP.

Minimal resources available

Congolese authorities have confirmed 452 cases including 82 deaths. On Thursday, the Central African nation recorded 71 new cases in a day, which authorities said is a sign of “active community transmission.”

The rare Bundibugyo type has no approved vaccines or treatment, so health workers have been targeting symptoms. The government said at least five people have recovered from Ebola since the outbreak was officially confirmed by Congo's Ministry of Health on May 15.

The disease “had a big head start,” according to World Health Organization Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus. Hospitals in the region could not test for the right type of Ebola that had begun spreading several weeks before confirmation.

Health workers are handling the disease with minimal resources as agencies have been scrambling to bring aid into the region. Masks, gloves, boots and medications were initially all in short supply.

“There has been an erosion of the health system,” said Heather Kerr, country director for the International Rescue Committee in Congo. “There has not been investment in the health system, and this has been going on for years.”

Tough conditions for health workers

“During the first week, we did not even have time to go home and eat. The second week was the same. We only eat once a day, what amounts to breakfast in the evening,” said Alice Bamuhinga, a nurse at the Mongbwalu hospital.

Even with widespread skepticism and disregard for health protocols, many in the town are becoming aware of the outbreak's grave reality.

Asero Jeanne had five children. Two died from the disease within two weeks. When her daughter became ill, the family thought it was malaria and neighbors advised them to avoid the hospital, saying “anyone who went there would die immediately,” according to Jeanne, 52.

The daughter died after three weeks of moving between hospitals and home, followed by a son who died days after. Then Jeanne became sick.

“I saw about 20 people die,” Jeanne said. “I watched them being taken to the morgue, yet God is allowing me to leave here alive. I thank the doctors.”

World Health Organization offers a plan

Tedros, the WHO director-general, on Friday launched a $518 million plan to combat the outbreak, saying “containing Ebola depends on political commitment, sustained financing, and the trust and engagement of communities.”

Efforts to contain the disease also have been hindered by the conflict between the government and Rwanda-backed M23 rebel group, in addition to attacks by extremist militants.

For health workers on the front line of Congo's Ebola outbreak, the work has become harder as the disease spreads faster than their current treatment capacity.

“Despite the alerts we receive and the teams we have on site, we lack the means to travel into the field,” Lokudu said. “As a result, there are alerts we are unable to investigate.”


How Did Tehran Enter the Palestinian Arena?

A photo released by Iran's Nour News of a previous meeting between Khamenei and Sinwar
A photo released by Iran's Nour News of a previous meeting between Khamenei and Sinwar
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How Did Tehran Enter the Palestinian Arena?

A photo released by Iran's Nour News of a previous meeting between Khamenei and Sinwar
A photo released by Iran's Nour News of a previous meeting between Khamenei and Sinwar

A compelling story is often enough to send a journalist in search of the man who carries it. The search becomes even more urgent when that man carries two. That was the case many years ago when I set out to find Anis Naccache.

As a young Lebanese activist, Naccache joined Fatah’s student battalion and later worked under the patronage of Khalil al-Wazir — better known as Abu Jihad — a member of Fatah’s Central Committee. My curiosity was piqued when I learned that Naccache had served as an aide to the famed Venezuelan militant Carlos the Jackal during the kidnapping of OPEC ministers in Vienna on December 21, 1975. The world had never witnessed an operation of that kind.

Carlos became an international celebrity, much to the annoyance of the man who had dispatched him on the mission — Wadie Haddad, the head of external operations for the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. I suspected that speaking with Naccache might also open a path to Carlos himself. It did. But Vienna was only part of Naccache’s story.

When anti-Shah demonstrations erupted in Iran in 1978, Naccache obtained Abu Jihad’s permission to train Iranian opponents of the Shah in camps operated by Fatah in Lebanon. He would later go further. In an interview I conducted with him, he claimed that the idea of creating the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) was born during a meeting in a Beirut apartment attended by a handful of individuals. The idea was later conveyed to the leaders of the Iranian Revolution, who embraced it on the principle that regular armies could not be trusted.

After the revolution’s victory, Naccache traveled to Tehran.

One day, in a small gathering, participants discussed the danger posed by Shapour Bakhtiar, the Shah’s last prime minister, who was living in exile. Some feared that enemies of the revolution might rally around him to destabilize, or even overthrow the new regime.
 

Former Iranian Prime Minister Shapour Bakhtiar in Paris the day after an assassination attempt against him in 1980 (AFP)
Former Iranian Prime Minister Shapour Bakhtiar in Paris the day after an assassination attempt against him in 1980 (AFP)

According to Naccache, the idea of eliminating Bakhtiar was raised. He revealed that a revolutionary court had sentenced Bakhtiar to death and that Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini had approved the sentence without publicly announcing it, effectively transforming it into something akin to a fatwa authorizing his killing.

Bakhtiar was living in France under heavy protection. Tehran had not yet developed teams capable of conducting foreign operations. Naccache said he volunteered for the mission with a small group. He obtained Bakhtiar’s telephone number, called claiming to be a journalist seeking an interview, and was surprised to receive an appointment. He visited the residence, conducted the interview, and studied the premises and the vulnerabilities in its security arrangements.

On July 18, 1980, Naccache and his team returned to assassinate Bakhtiar. A reinforced door prevented them from reaching their target. The operation left two policemen and a French woman dead. Naccache was wounded and arrested.

Throughout the 1980s, Iran’s demand for his release overlapped with a series of kidnappings of French nationals in Lebanon by shadowy organizations seeking to exchange them for Naccache. After ten years in prison, France eventually struck a deal and released him.

When I asked who in Iran had known about the assassination plan, he replied: “I informed Mohsen Rafighdoost, who was responsible for the Guards’ administrative staff, and Mohsen Rezaei, a member of its command.”

The Lebanese-Palestinian-Iranian overlap would emerge elsewhere. Imad Mughniyeh — known as Hajj Radwan and accused of involvement in attacks against Israelis, Americans, and Arab targets — had for a time served in Yasser Arafat’s security detail before joining Hezbollah, the centerpiece of Iran’s project in Lebanon and the wider region. Naccache told me that he had personally trained Mughniyeh at the latter’s request.

Naccache spoke with fascination and confidence about the Iranian project, and I listened carefully. He said the region would undergo profound transformations and that revolutionary Iran believed its responsibility began with “liberating the Middle East from American occupation, whether direct or disguised.”

According to him, leaders of the Revolutionary Guards believed that “the American thread” was what guaranteed the stability and survival of many regimes in the region, and that cutting that thread would transform the Middle East’s map and balance of power.

When I asked whether General Qassem Soleimani belonged to this camp, Naccache replied that he was among its leading figures and was working systematically to undermine the American presence throughout the region.

“The revolution never concealed its desire to expel America from Iran and from the region,” he said. “The first message was the seizure of the Americans in their embassy in Tehran. The second was the bombing of the Marine barracks in Beirut. Hajj Imad helped deliver other messages.”

He also argued that the program of tunnels, missiles, and drones was designed to reduce the strategic value of America’s regional allies by demonstrating that their territory was vulnerable and that alliance with Washington could not guarantee their security.

“If Israel is an American aircraft carrier,” he asked, “what remains of its prestige when every inch of it can be reached by the missiles of the Axis of Resistance?”

Naccache also maintained that Hassan Nasrallah’s personality had earned him the trust of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and elevated him to the role of a partner in shaping Iran’s Arab policies, particularly in countries bordering Palestine.

“Nasrallah and Soleimani,” he underlined, “are closest to the Leader’s heart.”

Perhaps the most striking thing I heard from Naccache was his prediction that “the major blow” was coming. “Sooner or later,” he said, “missiles will rain down on Israel from every direction. Many who emigrated there will regret their decision, and those doubts will open the door to the end of this entity.”

What I heard from Naccache was more explicit than what I later heard in the offices of Islamic Jihad, Hamas, or Hezbollah leaders, though it pointed in the same direction.

Ramadan Abdullah Shallah, the secretary-general of Palestinian Islamic Jihad, was equally convinced that the blow was coming. Khaled Mashaal was more cautious when discussing Iran’s role. Hassan Nasrallah, by contrast, never felt the need to conceal that Iran was Hezbollah’s principal source of weapons, funding, and strategic backing.

The historic handshake between Yasser Arafat and Yitzhak Rabin on the White House lawn following the signing of the Oslo Accords, under the auspices of US President Bill Clinton, in Washington in September 1993 (Getty Images)

Revolutionary Iran and the Palestinian Obsession

From the outset, Khomeini’s Iran sought influence in several regional arenas. None preoccupied it more than the Palestinian arena. Yasser Arafat, however, had no intention of placing the Palestinian cause in the custody of Iran’s revolutionary regime. Nor was he prepared to hand Palestinian decision-making to any power on earth.

To preserve the independence of that decision, he forged alliances, fought battles, and moved from one capital to another, resisting those who sought to turn Palestine into a bargaining chip in negotiations with the great powers. His long struggle with Syrian President Hafez al-Assad belonged to that category. “Palestine is a cause for me,” Arafat used to say. “For Assad, it is a card to be played.”

Arafat quickly concluded that the Iranian Revolution lacked what he described to some aides as “realism, careful calculations, and restraints.” He felt that some of its leaders were guided by illusions, particularly in their underestimation of both the United States and the Soviet Union.

Nor was he prepared to place the Palestinian revolution under the guardianship of Khomeini’s revolution. He sensed that the new Iran would soon find itself in conflict not only with its neighbors but with more distant powers as well.

Arafat’s appearance in Tehran six days after the revolution’s victory was historic, but it did not lead him to pledge allegiance to Khomeini as others did. He kept his distance.

When Iranian revolutionaries seized American hostages in the US embassy in Tehran, Arafat explored the possibility of mediation. Tehran rejected the idea. It reacted similarly when he attempted to mediate after the outbreak of the Iran-Iraq War. Iran therefore began searching for other Palestinian allies. In time, it also contributed to weakening Arafat’s authority. Then came a development larger than Khomeini’s Iran could comfortably tolerate.

On September 13, 1993, the Oslo Accords were signed. Yasser Arafat shook hands with Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin on the White House lawn under the sponsorship of President Bill Clinton. Arafat had unleashed a second geopolitical earthquake, the first having been launched by Anwar Sadat.

His legitimacy remained intact. His image was inseparable from the first bullet fired by Fatah in the mid-1960s, an act widely credited with reviving the Palestinian cause. Iran felt threatened. It feared losing the bridge through which it hoped to reach the Sunni street and mobilize it against the “Great Satan,” not merely against Israel.

Tehran therefore intensified its investment in Palestinian Islamic Jihad and Hamas. Arafat’s calculations diverged not only from Iran’s but also from those of the so-called camp of “steadfastness and confrontation.”

The hostility directed toward him became intense.

During an interview in Damascus, Ahmed Jibril, secretary-general of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine–General Command, accused Arafat of treason. I asked whether he had ever sent someone to assassinate him.

“No,” Jibril replied, “but every morning I turn on the radio hoping to hear of the birth of a Palestinian Islambouli.”

He was referring to Khalid Islambouli, the man who assassinated Egyptian President Anwar Sadat.

“I Have Lived Longer Than I Expected”

If Iran failed to draw Arafat beneath its mantle, it had greater success among Palestinian Islamists. Dr. Fathi Shiqaqi, the founder and secretary-general of Palestinian Islamic Jihad, opened the first window. The story began when Shiqaqi was a student at Zagazig University in Egypt. During the upheavals of 1978, fellow students asked him to prepare a ten-page paper on the events unfolding in Iran. The assignment captivated him.

He immersed himself in Islamic sources, Khomeini’s writings, and Muslim Brotherhood thought. He emerged convinced that the revolution in Iran was Islamic rather than sectarian.

Instead of a ten-page report, he produced a booklet titled Khomeini: The Islamic Solution and the Alternative. The booklet drew the attention of Egyptian authorities, who imprisoned him. He would later be jailed again and eventually leave Egypt secretly. He was arrested by Israeli authorities in Gaza in 1983 and again in 1986 before being deported from Palestine in August 1988.

The Israelis failed to appreciate that expelling Shiqaqi would strengthen his relationship with Iran and Hezbollah. Tehran welcomed him warmly. Khomeini received him in 1988 and pledged support for Islamic Jihad in both arms and funding. Thus Islamic Jihad became Iran’s first significant breakthrough into the Palestinian arena.

Ghassan Charbel, Editor-in-Chief of Asharq Al-Awsat, during an interview with the late Islamic Jihad leader Ramadan Shalah in December 2002 (Asharq Al-Awsat)

Following the Arafat-Rabin handshake, Shiqaqi contacted Ramadan Abdullah Shallah, who would later succeed him as leader of the movement. At the time, Shallah was living in the United States and pursuing an academic career.

“The time has come,” Shiqaqi told him. Shallah later explained to me that the phrase signaled a decision “to go further in jihadist action.” The era of suicide bombings was approaching.

On January 22, 1995, Islamic Jihad carried out a devastating double suicide attack at Beit Lid near Tel Aviv, killing 20 Israeli soldiers. Rabin vowed to punish those responsible, even if they were beyond Israel’s borders. It was widely understood that he had ordered Shiqaqi’s assassination. Only days later I visited Shiqaqi in his modest apartment in Damascus. “I am still young,” he said immediately. “It is not yet time for my memoirs. We still have much work ahead of us.”

When I asked about Rabin’s threats, he dismissed them.

“I believe I have lived longer than I expected,” he replied. “The blood of martyrs produces more fighters and escalates the confrontation. We are not concerned by such threats. In the end, as Imam Ali said, destiny is the guardian of life’s appointed term.”

The phrase stayed with me. So did the feeling that our first interview might also be our last. Israel does not easily forgive those who target its soldiers. Mossad’s reach is long, and Rabin was not a man likely to leave such a challenge unanswered.

On October 26, 1995, Mossad found Shiqaqi in Malta and killed him as he returned from Libya.

Ramadan Shallah later told me that Israeli intelligence had penetrated Libyan security and discovered the alias Shiqaqi was using: Ibrahim al-Shawish, a secret known only to Shiqaqi and Shallah.

Hassan Nasrallah and Ali Khamenei (Office of the Iranian Supreme Leader)

"If He Lives, He Will Become the Khomeini of the Arabs"

In Beirut, Hezbollah Secretary-General Hassan Nasrallah learned of Shiqaqi's assassination and immediately traveled to Damascus. He met Shallah and advised the movement to select a new secretary-general, just as Hezbollah had done after Israel assassinated its secretary-general Abbas al-Musawi, and to announce the successor's name in the statement mourning the previous leader.

According to Shallah, Nasrallah argued that doing so would help preserve the morale of the resistance camp. But, he added, Nasrallah did not interfere in the selection process itself, as that was an internal Islamic Jihad matter and the movement's allies trusted its choices.

Shallah also recalled that Shiqaqi greatly admired Nasrallah: "I was visiting Beirut at the end of 1989 when Dr. Fathi, may he rest in peace, returned from a Hezbollah event at which Nasrallah had spoken. At the time, Nasrallah was not yet secretary-general but a resistance official. Dr. Fathi spoke about him with tremendous admiration. I expressed surprise at the extent of his admiration, and in the presence of several brothers he said: 'If this man lives long enough, he will become the Khomeini of the Arabs.'"

I asked Shallah which model Palestinian factions drew upon when they began carrying out suicide operations. He replied that they had been inspired by the model pioneered by the Lebanese resistance when Abu Zaynab carried out the bombing of the Marine barracks in Beirut.

Hamas and the Road to Tehran

Despite Iran’s successes with Islamic Jihad, its greatest achievement was drawing Hamas into its regional program, exploiting the movement’s need for weapons and funding. Tehran had long sought an opening. Israel inadvertently provided one.

In late 1992, after members of the Qassam Brigades kidnapped and killed an Israeli officer, Israel deported roughly 415 Palestinian activists from Gaza and the West Bank, most of them affiliated with Hamas. Among them were future leaders such as Abdel Aziz al-Rantisi and Ismail Haniyeh.

Lebanon refused to receive them, and the deportees remained for months in the border area of Marj al-Zohour, transforming their tent encampment into a center for meetings, prayers, lectures, and solidarity visits.

The Revolutionary Guards and Hezbollah quickly seized the opportunity. They supplied food, medicine, and shelter. As relationships developed, they trained some of the deportees in explosives, secure communications, and combat tactics. Iran saw in Hamas a prize far larger than Islamic Jihad because of its much broader popular base. The relationship did not begin smoothly.

Some Hamas figures remained wary of Iran because of Sunni-Shiite sensitivities. Others hesitated to accept Iranian funding for fear that it would tie the movement to a political agenda rooted in Iran’s revolutionary worldview.

Over time, those reservations faded. Iranian support became institutionalized. When Hamas seized control of Gaza in June 2007 and expelled the Palestinian Authority, Tehran and Hezbollah recognized a major opportunity.

For Soleimani and Nasrallah, an autonomous Gaza offered the possibility of integrating Hamas into the concept of the “unity of fronts” and preparing it to participate in the long-awaited “major blow.”

The relationship would face serious tests, particularly after Hamas leaders left Syria rather than support Bashar al-Assad’s campaign against the uprising. Iranian and Syrian circles attacked Khaled Mashaal, accusing him of abandoning the resistance camp.

Iran reduced its support, though it never entirely severed assistance to the Qassam Brigades. Differences also emerged over Iran’s role in Yemen and allegations of Shiite proselytization there.

Yet Soleimani and Nasrallah remained committed to preserving the Palestinian component of the Axis of Resistance.

Gradually, relations recovered. Soleimani rewarded Hamas with an extensive program of financing, weapons transfers, local arms production inside Gaza, and advanced training. In 2012, Yahya Sinwar — released from an Israeli prison the previous year — was elected to Hamas’ political leadership in Gaza. Five years later he became head of the movement in the territory.

That same year, Ismail Haniyeh succeeded Khaled Mashaal as chairman of Hamas’ Political Bureau after Mashaal had held the post for twenty-one years.

The military wing gained increasing influence, particularly through Sinwar’s close relationship with the Qassam Brigades and their commander, Mohammed Deif.

An Iranian woman holds a poster featuring Ismail Haniyeh during his funeral procession in Tehran. The poster also depicts Qassem Soleimani, Abu Mahdi al-Muhandis, Fathi Shiqaqi, Sheikh Ahmed Yassin, Imad Mughniyeh and Mohsen Fakhrizadeh (AFP).

Sinwar’s Flood

On October 7, 2023, Sinwar and Deif realized their ambition. They launched what they called “Al-Aqsa Flood.” The following day, Hezbollah found itself under pressure to respond to the message sent by the architects of the operation and joined what it termed the campaign to support Gaza.

The world was startled by Israel’s vulnerability in the opening hours, especially after it became clear that the attack had left more than a thousand Israelis dead and scores taken hostage. But after the initial shock, Israel’s war machine awakened and opened multiple fronts.

Benjamin Netanyahu viewed the operation as bearing unmistakable Iranian fingerprints. The retaliation was severe, from Hezbollah in Lebanon all the way to Iran’s Supreme Leader himself. Sinwar’s Flood altered the face of Gaza and Lebanon. It also contributed to the downfall of Bashar al-Assad’s regime.

For the first time, American strikes hit Iranian nuclear facilities. Israeli aircraft dominated the skies over Tehran, while Iranian missiles struck targets inside Israel.

The Iranian roar eventually erupted into war, one that unsettled the region, rattled the global economy, and whose consequences remain unresolved.

 


Lebanese-Born US Envoy Michel Issa Arrives with High Expectations

During his Senate confirmation hearing, Issa outlined the contours of his policy, setting out several themes that later became central to his performance
During his Senate confirmation hearing, Issa outlined the contours of his policy, setting out several themes that later became central to his performance
TT

Lebanese-Born US Envoy Michel Issa Arrives with High Expectations

During his Senate confirmation hearing, Issa outlined the contours of his policy, setting out several themes that later became central to his performance
During his Senate confirmation hearing, Issa outlined the contours of his policy, setting out several themes that later became central to his performance

When the new US ambassador to Lebanon arrived in Beirut, he did not need a learning period or special State Department training before taking up his first diplomatic post after a brief retirement from the world of business and automobiles.

Ambassador Michel Issa knows Beirut and the rest of Lebanon better than he knows the corridors of the State Department, with which he had no connection before President Donald Trump appointed him.

Issa was returning to the city where he was born, and to a country he had carried with him on a journey from Lebanon to France and then the United States.

Today, he is coming back as the representative of the world’s most powerful country at one of the most sensitive moments in Lebanese-US relations.

From the moment Issa was appointed US ambassador to Lebanon, it was clear his selection was no routine decision inside the US administration. Washington did not send a traditional career diplomat to Beirut, nor a former security official.

It chose a veteran businessman and banker with deep Lebanese roots and a direct relationship with Trump.

But more importantly, Issa’s appointment came as Lebanon was passing through a historic turning point.

The country was trying to emerge from the worst economic and financial crisis in its modern history, while the repercussions of the war on the southern front and the future relationship between the Lebanese state and Hezbollah dominated international and regional discussions.

More than one message

Many saw Issa’s selection as carrying multiple messages.

“On one hand, Washington wanted to send a figure who knows Lebanon from the inside and understands its complex makeup,” his friend, Lebanese lawmaker Fouad Makhzoumi, said.

“On the other hand, it wanted to rely on a man who has the personal confidence of the US president and can convey the White House’s direction directly to one of the most complicated arenas in the Middle East.”

Among the notable steps that accompanied Issa’s move into diplomacy was his decision to renounce Lebanese citizenship before taking up his duties as US ambassador, aimed at removing any potential legal or political ambiguity over dual allegiance.

From Bsous to Wall Street

Michel Issa was born in 1955 in the Lebanese capital, Beirut, but traces his roots to the town of Bsous in the Aley district, in the Mount Lebanon governorate.

He grew up in Lebanon during the years of relative stability that preceded the civil war, and received his school education in Beirut before his family left the country as part of the Lebanese emigration wave of the 1970s.

France was his first stop. There, he continued his studies in economics and finance, and his professional identity began to take shape. He earned a DEUG (Diplôme d'Études Universitaires Générales) in economics from Paris Nanterre University and also studied at the Graduate School of Banking Studies in Paris.

In the late 1970s, he moved to the United States, the country where he would build his career and achieve his biggest successes.

Finance and banking

For decades, Issa worked in finance and banking, moving between prominent international institutions.

He held executive posts at well-known banks and investment firms, gaining broad experience in debt management, corporate restructuring, investments, and financial markets.

In American finance, he built a reputation as a man able to handle complex files, manage risk, and find solutions to financial crises.

Over the years, his name became known in economic and investment circles, especially in New York, where he settled and built a wide network of professional relationships.

Entering Trump’s circle

Perhaps the most intriguing part of Issa’s biography is his relationship with Trump. He was not merely a political supporter of the US president.

US media reports have described him as close to Trump and as one of his golf partners. Their relationship goes back years before they both entered direct political work.

When Trump announced Issa’s nomination as US ambassador to Lebanon, he used striking words to describe him, praising his broad financial experience and his career in business and international trade.

In Beirut, as in Washington, that relationship is not viewed as a secondary detail.

“An ambassador who has a direct channel to the White House has a wider margin of movement than what is usually available to traditional diplomats,” Makhzoumi said. “For that reason, Issa’s appointment gained added importance in Beirut.”

He said Issa “does not represent only the State Department, but also carries the confidence of the US president himself.”

For Lebanon, that relationship gives the post a different weight. Every message Issa conveys or position he announces, is read as closer to the political mood of the White House than to a routine diplomatic view.

An ambassador under scrutiny

From his first weeks in Lebanon, Issa found himself drawn into files that went beyond traditional diplomacy. He took part in meetings on the future of US support for the Lebanese army, economic reform files, and international efforts to consolidate stability along the southern border.

During his Senate confirmation hearing, Issa outlined the contours of his policy, setting out several themes that later became central to his performance.

He spoke of the importance of supporting Lebanon’s “legitimate” institutions, strengthening economic reforms, and “empowering the state to extend its authority” across all its territory.

Those positions were welcomed by some Lebanese forces, while drawing reservations and criticism from others who saw them as an extension of the traditional US approach toward Lebanon.

But what made his presence different from many of his predecessors was his Lebanese background.

Issa speaks Arabic fluently, understands the details of Lebanese political life, and knows the fine distinctions among its forces, parties, and sects. These elements give him a greater ability to read the local scene.

At the same time, that background has made him a target of greater scrutiny. Every statement he makes is sometimes read from two angles, that of the US ambassador and that of the Lebanese who knows the details of the country where he serves.

A very private life

Away from politics and diplomacy, Issa appears different from the stereotypical image of many financiers. Sport plays an important role in his life.

Official information says he was an international athletics competitor in his youth, before his interest later shifted to other sports, most notably tennis and golf.

That sporting background also reveals an important side of his character. Discipline, competition, and the pursuit of results are qualities many link to his long career in finance.

Golf also played a role beyond personal hobby. It became one of the bridges that connected him to Trump, who is known for his passion for the sport.

At the family level, unlike many public figures, Issa is careful to keep his family life out of the spotlight. Available information about his wife and two sons is extremely limited, reflecting a clear desire to separate his private life from his public work.

Between Lebanese roots and US interests

In reality, Issa stands at the intersection of two parallel paths. The first is personal, beginning in the neighborhoods of Beirut and the town of Bsous more than half a century ago. The second is political and professional, leading him to the heart of the US administration.

Perhaps the uniqueness of his experience lies in combining these two paths. He understands the complexities of the Lebanese system, but is tasked with implementing policies set in Washington, not Beirut.

Makhzoumi said Issa is “clear, bold, and transparent.”

“He wants Lebanon, and we are betting on his Lebanese origins and on what he is trying to do, because it leads us toward a better Lebanon,” Makhzoumi said. “He is building good relations with everyone, and that is the reason for the ambassador’s strength.”

“Lebanon exists in areas where Israel is on one side, and Syria is on the other, and it has the Palestinian file. Here, there is also the distinctive Christian presence in the region,” he added.

“All of this creates a unique case. But if there is no one to convey the picture to the White House, as Ambassador Issa does, that will not happen.”

“Ambassador Issa can speak directly with those who make decisions in the United States, and this gives us a point of strength. We can build on it to obtain a better understanding in the US of the Lebanese position.”