When Hafez al-Assad Opened Lebanon’s Gate to Tehran

Hafez al-Assad made it easier for Khamenei to consolidate control over Lebanon through Hezbollah. (AFP)
Hafez al-Assad made it easier for Khamenei to consolidate control over Lebanon through Hezbollah. (AFP)
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When Hafez al-Assad Opened Lebanon’s Gate to Tehran

Hafez al-Assad made it easier for Khamenei to consolidate control over Lebanon through Hezbollah. (AFP)
Hafez al-Assad made it easier for Khamenei to consolidate control over Lebanon through Hezbollah. (AFP)

One week after the Iranian Revolution declared victory on February 11, 1979, two photographs emerged from Tehran that, in retrospect, help explain many of the storms that would later sweep the Middle East, from Iran’s expanding regional influence to what the author calls “Sinwar’s Flood."

In the first image, two men sit side by side on a carpet. It is impossible to tell the story of the modern Middle East without dwelling on both of them. One is Ayatollah Khomeini, the architect of the Iranian Revolution. The other is Yasser Arafat, the founder of the modern Palestinian national movement.

Standing near Arafat are the Lebanese cleric Hani Fahs, the Iranian cleric Sadegh Khalkhali, and Ahmad Khomeini, the revolutionary leader’s son. Near Khomeini stand Mahmoud Abbas — today president of the Palestinian Authority — and Hani al-Hassan, a senior Fatah leader who would become the first Palestinian ambassador to revolutionary Iran.

In the second photograph, Arafat is shown addressing a crowd after the Palestinian flag was raised over the building that had housed the Israeli embassy in Tehran.

Arafat and Khomeini, with Mahmoud Abbas standing next to his right.

The symbolism of those scenes was profound. During his long years in exile in Najaf, Khomeini had understood that Palestine was the magic word that opened Arab and Muslim hearts. He may have believed that embracing the Palestinian cause would provide a passport for a Shiite revolution seeking entry into the vast Sunni world. It was natural that Tehran would celebrate Arafat, whose legitimacy was unrivaled after he had become the global symbol of the Palestinian struggle. It was equally natural that Arafat would welcome Iran’s dramatic shift from a state aligned with Israel to one proclaiming full support for the Palestinian revolution.

As always, Arafat lavished praise on his hosts. Yet experience had taught him not to surrender his cards to anyone. He had spent years dealing with powerful leaders who sought to use the Palestinian cause either to legitimize their own regimes or to project influence far beyond their borders.

Palestine was not Arafat’s only asset. He operated on Israel’s border through southern Lebanon, a frontier that had effectively become a Palestinian-Israeli border before eventually evolving into an Iranian-Israeli one. Although Lebanon at the time lay under the domination of Hafez al-Assad and the Syrian army — and despite Assad’s deep hostility toward Arafat — the Palestinian leader still controlled the decision of war and peace in southern Lebanon. That authority would later pass to Hassan Nasrallah, the late secretary-general of Hezbollah.

Arafat quickly grasped the sensitivities surrounding relations with Iran. Here was a Shiite revolution emerging in a predominantly Sunni world. The new regime’s commitment to “exporting the revolution” alarmed governments near and far. When the Iran-Iraq War erupted, Arafat attempted to play the role of mediator. He recalibrated his calculations, preserving room for strong relations with the Gulf Arab states, whose financial support remained indispensable to the Palestinian movement.

Any reading of 1979 must also account for another major development. That year Egypt completed its departure from the military front of the Arab-Israeli conflict. The process culminated in the signing of the Camp David Accords by Egyptian President Anwar Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin under the sponsorship of US President Jimmy Carter. The agreement completed the geopolitical earthquake Sadat had triggered in 1977 when he traveled to Jerusalem and offered peace to Israel.

Egypt’s departure left a vacuum in the Arab world. That vacuum made it easier for Khomeini’s revolution to advance across the region.

Beginning in 1990, Iran would receive three major unintended gifts. The first came from Saddam Hussein when he invaded Kuwait and redirected global attention toward the “Iraqi threat.” The second came from Osama bin Laden, whose attacks of September 11, 2001, focused the world on al-Qaeda terrorism. The third arrived when the United States toppled Iraq’s Baathist regime in 2003, allowing Iranian influence to flow into Iraq’s institutions and political structure.

What many overlooked was that Iran had already received two crucial gifts during the 1980s from Syrian President Hafez al-Assad.

The first came after Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon. Assad agreed to allow hundreds of members of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps to enter Lebanon’s Beqaa Valley and train Lebanese Shiite Islamist groups seeking to organize resistance against Israeli occupation. From those groups, Hezbollah would eventually emerge.

The second gift arrived in the mid-1980s, when Assad decided to subordinate the Lebanese National Resistance Front — known by its Arabic acronym, Jammoul — to the Islamic resistance led by Hezbollah.

Elias Atallah, one of Jammoul’s coordinators, later recounted to Asharq Al-Awsat a dramatic meeting that preceded a series of assassinations targeting Communist Party leaders.

According to Atallah, Syrian intelligence chief in Lebanon Major General Ghazi Kanaan summoned him and Lebanese Communist Party Secretary-General George Hawi to an urgent meeting at a hotel in the Beqaa Valley.

Speaking on behalf of “Mr. President,” Kanaan bluntly informed them that Jammoul must coordinate its operations in advance with Syrian intelligence. He demanded more than that. Jammoul, he said, should coordinate with Hezbollah, or even merge with it.

The two men refused. Relations between the Communist Party and Hezbollah were already extremely tense. Kanaan abruptly ended the meeting with a warning: “You will pay a heavy price.”

A campaign of assassinations followed, targeting prominent communist figures. Kanaan scarcely concealed his satisfaction. At one funeral, he reportedly approached party members and remarked: “Is this better?”

An undated photo of Nasrallah during his youth. (Iran supreme leader’s office)

The Syrian intervention dealt a devastating blow to the leftist resistance. Islamic resistance became the sole banner of armed struggle against Israel. Hezbollah reaped the benefits. In 2000, Israeli forces withdrew from southern Lebanon under fire and without extracting political concessions from Beirut. Iran now stood on Israel’s northern frontier through Hezbollah.

After the fall of Saddam Hussein, the road linking Tehran to Beirut through Baghdad and Damascus opened fully. What some called the “Axis of Resistance” and others the “Shiite Crescent” had taken shape.

At the beginning of the 1980s, many believed Saddam Hussein’s war had trapped the embers of Khomeini’s revolution within Iran’s borders. Then, in June 1982, an unexpected window opened.

Israel invaded Lebanon, besieged Beirut, and forced the Palestine Liberation Organization to leave the country. The image of Beirut bidding farewell to Yasser Arafat as he departed into another exile marked the end of an era.

Amid the invasion, George Hawi, Elias Atallah, Mohsen Ibrahim — the secretary-general of the Organization of Communist Action in Lebanon — and several comrades launched the Lebanese National Resistance Front against Israeli occupation. Their operations forced Israeli troops to withdraw quickly from Beirut.

At the same time, three Shiite Islamist groups inspired by Iran’s revolution entered discussions aimed at creating a unified resistance movement. The talks produced what became known as the “Document of the Nine,” which was taken to Tehran and received Khomeini’s blessing. He instructed the Revolutionary Guards to support the unity of these groups, which would eventually dissolve into Hezbollah.

Hezbollah’s current secretary-general, Naim Qassem, later recounted the organization’s founding in his book Hezbollah: The Method, the Experience, the Future. He identified the movement’s three pillars as Islam as a way of life, resistance to Israel as the highest priority, and allegiance to Wilayat al-Faqih as the ultimate reference point.

Hafez al-Assad often told visitors that the Iranian Revolution compensated for the strategic loss of Egypt. Those familiar with his thinking, however, suggest additional motives.

He was deeply hostile to Saddam Hussein. He also believed that Gulf Arab concerns about revolutionary Iran would make Syria indispensable to the Gulf states, bringing political and financial advantages. Allowing Hezbollah to grow in Lebanon fit neatly into that calculation.

Hezbollah was born under the mantle of the Wilayat al-Faqih and on the front line with Israel. It soon found itself on a front line with the United States as well.

In October 1983, a suicide bomber drove a truck packed with explosives into the US Marine barracks in Beirut, sending a convoy of coffins back to Ronald Reagan’s America.

Syria later played a crucial role in exempting Hezbollah from the disarmament provisions imposed on Lebanese militias after the Taif Agreement. Iran spared no effort in supporting the movement, enabling it to build a steadily expanding military and political force. Together, Tehran and Damascus also helped consolidate the Lebanese Shiite political order, bringing Hezbollah into partnership with the Amal Movement, led by Nabih Berri, who has served as speaker of parliament since 1992.

Old conflicts between Amal and Hezbollah gradually faded. Berri became a nearly permanent necessity for Hezbollah, helping shield it from political isolation, though never fundamentally altering its deeper ideological program.

The first decade of the twenty-first century produced scenes whose consequences extended far beyond their immediate settings. On April 9, 2003, an American armored vehicle pulled down Saddam Hussein’s statue in Baghdad’s Firdos Square. The man whose statues inspired fear simply by their presence was denied the final showdown he had imagined. The army that had fought Iran for eight years evaporated before the American military machine.

From left to right: Qasem Soleimani, Hassan Nasrallah and Ali Khamenei. (Iran supreme leader’s office)

Saddam was not far from Firdos Square when his statue fell. He chose resistance, badly misjudging both American power and the depth of Iraqi opposition to his rule.

Another defining image followed.

On December 13, 2003, Saddam was captured by US forces near Tikrit. Soldiers pulled him from a small underground hideout on a farm in al-Dawr. Television screens around the world carried the image of an American soldier inspecting the former Iraqi president’s mouth. He offered no resistance. Stories that he always carried a final bullet to avoid the humiliation of capture proved false.

Yet Saddam, obsessed with his place in history, succeeded in shaping part of his legacy. He denied the legitimacy of the court trying him and repeatedly insisted that he remained Iraq’s lawful president. Judge Raouf Rashid Abdel Rahman, who presided over the tribunal that sentenced Saddam to death, later told the author that “he was a difficult man, but he never asked for anything for himself.”

Saddam remained composed when the noose was placed around his neck.

The new Iraqi authorities made a grave mistake by scheduling the execution for December 30, 2006, the first day of Eid al-Adha. Another error followed. According to former Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, Saddam’s body was brought to his residence in Baghdad’s Green Zone after the execution, where Maliki briefly viewed it and reproached the dead man.

The images of Saddam’s capture, trial, and execution — combined with other factors — helped inflame Sunni-Shiite tensions inside Iraq and beyond. For many Iraqis, regardless of Saddam’s crimes, the execution appeared less like justice than revenge carried out on behalf of the United States, Iran, and Iraq’s pro-Iranian opposition.

Qassem Soleimani would soon devote himself to destabilizing the American military presence in Iraq, aided by Bashar al-Assad and Hassan Nasrallah.

Then another dramatic event emerged from Beirut.

On February 14, 2005, former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri was assassinated in a massive explosion that tore through Beirut and scattered his body across the scene. The murder shook Lebanon like an earthquake. Huge crowds poured into the streets demanding the withdrawal of Syrian troops, which had been stationed in Lebanon since 1976.

Later that month, the author met Bashar al-Assad in Damascus and repeatedly asked whether Syrian security services had been involved.

Assad categorically denied any connection.

“Not from near or far,” he insisted.

Yet questions multiplied. Had he spoken with such certainty because he knew who was responsible?

The international investigation wandered through years of political interference, misinformation, and false witnesses. Eventually, the Special Tribunal for Lebanon indicted members of Hezbollah.

British soldiers are seen in Iraq’s Basra on April 7, 2003. (AFP)

The case generated enduring questions. Was Hariri killed on the fault line between Sunnis and Shiites? Was he eliminated because of regional rivalries? Was he seen as an obstacle to a broader strategic project? Was he punished for trying to restore Lebanon as a normal state rather than leave it a missile platform in the conflict with Israel?

Hariri’s assassination transformed both Lebanon and Syria.

Bashar al-Assad was forced to swallow the bitter pill of withdrawing Syrian troops from Lebanon, a country his father had dominated for decades. Hafez al-Assad had bent much of Lebanon’s political class to his will and established the rules of the Syrian era. Governments bore the fingerprints of Syrian intelligence officers. Parliament was summoned and complied.

That era exiled General Michel Aoun and imprisoned Samir Geagea.

One major figure remained: Rafik Hariri. He had accepted operating under the Syrian umbrella but never abandoned his dream of rebuilding a functioning Lebanese state. His growing domestic, Arab, and international stature worried the narrow circle around Assad, and later worried Hezbollah as well.

Syria lost its Lebanese foothold, a platform that had amplified its influence and enriched many of its officers.

What followed was a Syria trapped within its own borders, relying on coercion and burdened by economic failure, while Lebanon became polarized between the March 14 movement and the March 8 alliance led by Hezbollah.

Many believe these developments helped set the stage for the July 2006 war between Hezbollah and Israel, a conflict in which Qasem Soleimani played an active role behind the scenes.

After the war, Bashar al-Assad openly emphasized the importance of Syria’s strategic depth for Hezbollah. He even acknowledged that Syrian soldiers in civilian clothing had transported missiles to the movement and sometimes all the way to southern Lebanon.

United Nations Security Council Resolution 1701 ended the war, deploying the Lebanese Army alongside UNIFIL forces in southern Lebanon. The conflict partially altered the political landscape created after Hariri’s assassination and gave Hezbollah another justification for retaining its arsenal.

Many Lebanese politicians fundamentally misunderstood Hezbollah and its weapons. They assumed that Israel’s withdrawal from Lebanon should have been enough for the movement to disarm, just as other militias had done after Taif. They overlooked the regional dimension of Hezbollah’s arsenal and its connection to Iran’s broader project.

In May 2008, Prime Minister Fouad Siniora’s government challenged Hezbollah’s private telecommunications network, declaring it illegal. The response was swift. Hezbollah turned its weapons inward and effectively seized control of Beirut, sending a clear message: the arsenal was here to stay.

The episode inflicted a deep wound on relations between Hezbollah’s community and many other Lebanese groups.

When the first spark of the Arab Spring erupted in Tunisia on December 17, 2010, Bashar al-Assad felt little concern. He believed Syria was different. More likely, his confidence reflected faith in a vast security apparatus whose brutality would deter dissent.

On March 15, 2011, Assad’s security services dealt with the children of Daraa according to that same doctrine of repression. Protests spread and became a nationwide uprising.

Assad showed little genuine interest in compromise. His generals viewed the revolt through the lens of minority insecurity and foreign conspiracy. The regime escalated from repression to barrel bombs and chemical weapons.

As opposition forces approached Assad’s presidential palace, two men rushed to his rescue: Qassem Soleimani and Hassan Nasrallah.

Iran had no intention of allowing Syria — the central link in its regional axis — to be torn away.

Rafik al-Hariri’s assassination was a turning point that allowed Iran to impose control over Lebanon. (AFP)

Soleimani persuaded Russian President Vladimir Putin to commit Russian air power to Assad’s defense. Hezbollah deployed fighters into Syria in 2013, while militias organized by Soleimani poured into the battlefield.

The regime survived. The cost was enormous.

The intervention deepened Sunni-Shiite wounds that remain visible today, not least in the rhetoric that dominates Syrian social media.

Years later in Paris, after defecting from Bashar al-Assad’s regime, former Syrian Vice President Abdul Halim Khaddam remarked that Hafez al-Assad could never have imagined Iranian influence in Lebanon growing to such an extent, or that his son would one day depend on pro-Iranian militias, including Hezbollah, to save his rule.

By then, Hezbollah was widely described as a regional force too large to fit within Lebanon’s political equation.

The author recalls a conversation with former Yemeni President Ali Abdullah Saleh before the end of the decade. In his characteristic style, Saleh asked: “Why is Hezbollah taking young Houthis to Damascus, sending them on to Lebanon without passport stamps, and training them in camps in the Bekaa Valley?”

The question hinted at a wider regional project already taking shape.

When Hezbollah launched its support front for “Sinwar’s Flood,” and later its support front for Iran itself, many Lebanese were reminded that their country had been living under the echo of Iranian power since the 1980s.

By the second decade of the twenty-first century, talk circulated within the so-called Resistance Axis of a coming “major blow” - a strike that many believed Yahya Sinwar dreamt of delivering through a rain of rockets and drones launched from multiple fronts across the region.



Bandar Abbas, Iran’s Trade Hub on Hormuz Thrust to Frontline of US War

Fishermen check their nets and small boats on the seashore in the port city of Bandar Abbas, in southern Iran on August 10, 2026. (AFP)
Fishermen check their nets and small boats on the seashore in the port city of Bandar Abbas, in southern Iran on August 10, 2026. (AFP)
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Bandar Abbas, Iran’s Trade Hub on Hormuz Thrust to Frontline of US War

Fishermen check their nets and small boats on the seashore in the port city of Bandar Abbas, in southern Iran on August 10, 2026. (AFP)
Fishermen check their nets and small boats on the seashore in the port city of Bandar Abbas, in southern Iran on August 10, 2026. (AFP)

With a long shoreline on the Strait of Hormuz, Iran's southern trade hub of Bandar Abbas has found itself at the frontlines of the war with the United States, with residents struggling to revive livelihoods battered by months of fighting.

Like elsewhere in Iran, economic strain has squeezed households since US-Israeli strikes triggered the Middle East war on February 28. But unlike much of the country, the port city of around half a million people has remained exposed to fighting even after an April 8 ceasefire brought relief elsewhere.

But despite a lull in hostilities in July, residents still feel squeezed. Saeed Tajik, 42, used to work at a shipyard before losing his job and turning to driving a taxi.

"The prices of housing and food have become extremely high. Almost all the basics -- rice, yoghurt, and oil -- have doubled," said Tajik.

Fuel shortages have long been common in southern Iran, where authorities restrict supplies in an effort to curb widespread fuel smuggling.

But now, "the queues have become longer ... it happens that we wait in the long line for fuel only to get told 'there is none' upon arriving," Tajik said as he drove past a station where motorists waited under the punishing summer heat.

Hormuz has emerged as a central flashpoint after an April ceasefire and June framework deal failed to resolve disagreements between Washington and Tehran over the future management of the strait.

During the war, US strikes hit bridges, highways and railway infrastructure around Bandar Abbas until mid-July, in what analysts saw as attempts to cut off the city and disrupt Iranian military logistics in the south.

- 'Nothing left' -

Inside the city, under a towering concrete statue of two armed men with their arms trained towards Hormuz waters, economic strains play out in long queues snaking outside petrol stations and soaring prices squeezing shoppers in local markets.

The city's repeatedly hit airport remained largely closed until August 15, leaving travelers facing arduous road journeys, sometimes combined with flights and boat crossings.

Outside the city, construction crews still toil under the sweltering summer sun to repair the Gachin bridge, split by a US strike, as cars rumble along a dusty detour below.

Along the waterfront, traditional wooden vessels known as lenjes sit moored alongside fishing and commercial boats, part of a centuries-old trading network linking southern Iran with Arab states across the Gulf.

Arash Tondro, 45, used his lenj to carry Iranian fresh and dried fruit to the United Arab Emirates and return with household goods and other imports.

"My income dropped to zero at the beginning of the war," said Tondro, who later rerouted some trade through Oman's Khasab port as regional seaways were disrupted and "many of the lenjes were hit by drones".

After the UAE suspended trade with Iran on Tuesday following a missile attack on a ship that Tehran denied carrying out, Tondro said he was again unsure how his work would be impacted.

"People in the south mostly rely on trade or fishing. If you take the sea and trade away from them, there is practically nothing left. We don't have agriculture here; whatever there is comes from the sea," he said.

- 'No sales' -

As night falls and August's oppressive heat begins to ease, fish vendors set up along a busy street, laying out shark, tuna and shrimp as the smell of the day's catch hangs in the humid air.

Among them is 22-year-old Anoush Mallah, who recently moved onto the street after soaring rents forced him to close his shop in one of the city's bazaars.

"Business has been terrible since the war started. There are no sales, it's very weak," he told AFP.

"People are short of money. The fishermen aren't going fishing either."

Many fishermen around Bandar Abbas only began returning to sea in recent weeks, after months ashore for fear of being caught in the crossfire of US-Iran fighting.

Diplomatic efforts have so far failed to end the war. For Mallah, the uncertainty only adds to the strain.

"Let it (the war) start and get some result; right now, we're just left in limbo," he said.


The Ethiopian Dam Dispute and Egypt’s ‘Right to Self-Defense’

Egyptian Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty. Photo: Foreign Ministry
Egyptian Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty. Photo: Foreign Ministry
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The Ethiopian Dam Dispute and Egypt’s ‘Right to Self-Defense’

Egyptian Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty. Photo: Foreign Ministry
Egyptian Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty. Photo: Foreign Ministry

Over the past two weeks, Egypt has repeatedly stressed its right to prevent any actions by Addis Ababa on the Nile River that could harm its water interests, stressing that it possesses the “right to self-defense” over Ethiopia’s Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD).

According to experts who spoke to Asharq Al-Awsat, Egypt’s signaling means that it “will not hesitate to use all legitimate means to safeguard its water security.”

They explained that the message is a stern warning to Ethiopia and suggests that Cairo is seeking to shift from a policy of protesting Ethiopian measures to preventive deterrence, aimed at stopping the establishment of a new status quo on the Nile.

New Egyptian Warning

Egyptian Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty said that “Egypt will not allow the construction of additional dams ... that affect its water interests,” stressing Cairo’s commitment to a legally binding agreement that guarantees its water rights.

In a television interview on Wednesday evening, Abdelatty said that Egypt does not oppose African countries’ right to development, noting Cairo’s participation in dam and infrastructure projects in several Nile Basin states. However, he stressed the need to balance the right to development with the rights of downstream countries.

He also underscored Egypt’s commitment to protecting its water interests. “We have the right to self-defense to protect our interests and water security,” said the minister. “We will not accept any agreement regarding the Nile River unless it is legally binding,” he reiterated.

Mohamed Hegazy, a member of the Egyptian Council for Foreign Affairs and a former assistant foreign minister, says the right of self-defense is protected under international law after all peaceful means have been exhausted.

According to Hegazy, the core message is that Cairo still prefers agreement and negotiation, but it no longer accepts using negotiations to impose a fait accompli.

He argued that the most significant aspect of Abdelatty’s statements is that they send three simultaneous messages - Rejection of unilateral measures, rejection of additional dams, and insistence on the right of self-defense to protect water security.

Hussein El-Behairy, an African affairs expert at the National Center for Middle East Studies, said the minister’s recent statements reaffirm Egypt’s right to defend its historical and water rights in the Nile by whatever means the Egyptian state deems appropriate to preserve what Egyptians view as a matter of life and death.

Ethiopia’s Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD). Reuters

Escalating Egyptian Position

This is the third time Egypt has signaled the possibility of using its “right to self-defense” and preventing dam construction on the Nile.

On August 16, Egypt’s state news agency quoted an unnamed Egyptian official as saying that Cairo “will neither accept nor allow any party to control the flow of Nile waters to downstream countries,” stressing that the Egyptian state possesses multiple tools capable of protecting its people’s interests in the Nile.

The statement came in response to remarks attributed to Ethiopian Minister of Water and Energy Habtamu Itefa concerning the construction of additional dams on the Nile and control over water flows to downstream states, namely Egypt and Sudan.

Earlier, on August 4, Egyptian Minister of Water Resources and Irrigation Hani Sewilam stated during a press conference that Egypt “will not allow the construction of new Ethiopian dams on the Nile River.”

He said: “It is well known that Ethiopia has plans to build additional dams, but will the Egyptian state allow this? No.”

According to Hegazy, the ball is now in Ethiopia’s court. If Addis Ababa agrees to resume serious negotiations leading to a legally binding agreement on GERD, the crisis can be contained.

However, if Ethiopia continues to create new realities on the Nile, the scope for a diplomatic solution will narrow, making risk management and deterrence a more prominent part of Egypt’s strategy.

El-Behairy does not expect the escalation to pave the way for new negotiations on GERD unless the Ethiopian government is willing to make concessions in response to Cairo’s demands. These demands include reaching a legally binding agreement that guarantees Egypt’s water rights during periods of drought and severe drought, and providing Egypt with information regarding the operation of the dam in a manner that does not harm its water interests.


Train to Nowhere? South Korea’s Lonely Push for Peace with the North

A locomotive is seen at the Woljeong-ri Station in Cheorwon, Gangwon Province, in South Korea, near the demilitarized zone separating North and South Korea on August 10, 2026. (AFP)
A locomotive is seen at the Woljeong-ri Station in Cheorwon, Gangwon Province, in South Korea, near the demilitarized zone separating North and South Korea on August 10, 2026. (AFP)
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Train to Nowhere? South Korea’s Lonely Push for Peace with the North

A locomotive is seen at the Woljeong-ri Station in Cheorwon, Gangwon Province, in South Korea, near the demilitarized zone separating North and South Korea on August 10, 2026. (AFP)
A locomotive is seen at the Woljeong-ri Station in Cheorwon, Gangwon Province, in South Korea, near the demilitarized zone separating North and South Korea on August 10, 2026. (AFP)

Near the heavily fortified frontier dividing the Korean peninsula, the abandoned Woljeong-ri station is being recast as a symbol of South Korea's hopes to reconcile with the North.

But plans to reconnect South Korea's northernmost station to the rail network come at an awkward moment, as Pyongyang ignores Seoul's overtures while the South's old ally Washington pursues its own talks with Pyongyang.

A turbulent few days have raised doubts about the role of South Korea in any diplomatic push, despite President Lee Jae Myung's dovish line on the North since taking power last year.

US President Donald Trump abruptly scaled back annual military drills with Seoul this week, calling them "inappropriate and hostile" towards the nuclear-armed North.

He also berated South Korea for not helping in his war against Iran and said he would meet the North's leader Kim Jong Un this year.

North Korea then fired around 10 short-range ballistic missiles on Thursday, while Kim's powerful sister mocked Seoul's "master-servant" relationship with Washington.

The developments have overshadowed the Lee administration's outreach, including the Woljeong-ri project aimed at "eventual" reconciliation.

The modest station -- originally located inside today's demilitarized zone (DMZ) -- once sat on a line linking Seoul to Wonsan, but was destroyed during the 1950-53 Korean War. It was reconstructed at its current site in the border town of Cheorwon in 1988.

It is now an attraction for visitors to the nearby DMZ separating the two countries, and the line's former terminus -- Wonsan -- lies in North Korea.

Its history, however, underscores how vulnerable such hopes are to the politics of the peninsula.

Work began in 2015 but ground to a halt just a year later after North Korea's fourth nuclear test.

The latest reboot inspires more skepticism than hope for some in Cheorwon.

"It seems like they keep trying to reconcile with North Korea (through the railway project), but from our point of view, it isn't really practical," said resident Moon Jae-yong, 70.

- Lonely push for peace -

South Korea's reconciliation program eventually aims to restore rail links, such as Woljeong-ri, with the North.

Lee has also said he is ready for talks with Pyongyang without preconditions, including on formally ending the Korean War, which concluded with an armistice.

His unification minister said in July that Seoul had shifted from prioritizing denuclearization to curbing the expansion of North Korea's nuclear program.

But Pyongyang -- emboldened by support from traditional ally China, and Russia, whose invasion of Ukraine it is backing -- has been unmoved.

It has repeatedly declared itself an "irreversible" nuclear state and labelled Seoul its "most hostile" enemy.

The US leader may be trying to revive diplomacy to record a foreign policy win ahead of November's midterm elections, with many voters disenchanted by his intervention in the Middle East.

That has sidelined Seoul, with Lee voicing respect for Trump's decision and pledging to "do his utmost" to support his peacemaking efforts.

South Korea is "reasonably afraid that it gets sidelined -- China, Russia and now America are all engaged with Pyongyang in different ways, while Seoul is not," Vladimir Tikhonov, Korean Studies professor at the University of Oslo, told AFP.

"So, Seoul is desperate to get some opening with North Korea. But it can do very little, so far."

- Impossible dream? -

That leaves the rail project standing as a symbol of South Korea's lonely push for peace.

Along the disused line from Woljeong-ri towards Baengmagoji station to the south -- the section to be restored under the peace project -- vegetation crowds both sides of the tracks, nearly swallowing a stone wall.

"The iron horse wants to run," a sign reads, alongside a phrase in English: "We want to be back on track."

Preparing infrastructure in the South now could save time if inter-Korean links are eventually restored, said Lim Eul-chul, a professor at Kyungnam University.

"But realistically, it is virtually impossible under the current circumstances, and everyone knows that," he told AFP.

With few options on North Korea, Seoul has turned to projects it can "pursue unilaterally", Lim said.

The project also aims to boost tourism along the border, where residents face frequent disruptions and security risks.

Pyongyang sent trash-filled balloons and broadcast unsettling noises across the border during the administration of Lee's hawkish predecessor, Yoon Suk Yeol.

Kim Sun-hee, 70, described them as "like scraping cement, or even ghost-like noises. It was really frightening".

A bombed-out locomotive from the Korean War remains near Woljeong-ri station as a reminder of the division.

It is "heartbreaking to see", said visitor Ahn Seung-hyun.