On April 15 last year, a Qatari man arrived in the V.I.P. terminal on an evening flight from his country’s capital city, Doha. After identifying himself as a senior government envoy, he announced that he and his 14 colleagues, all dressed in crisp white ankle-length tunics called thobes, did not want their luggage inspected. The Qataris had brought 23 identical black duffels, a small peninsula of black nylon that covered a sizable portion of the lounge’s hardwood floor. Each bag was so heavy — well over 100 pounds — that the porters had trouble rolling them into the room.
There remains an obvious mystery in the case of the kidnapped Qataris. How, with the $360 million impounded, were the hostages released? One senior Iraqi official gave me the following answer: The Qataris agreed to provide another delivery of cash, via Beirut, of roughly the same amount. (It was Qassim Suleimani himself, I was told by another official, who made the final call to release the hostages.) As far as the location for a money drop goes, this makes sense: Hezbollah maintains a firm control over the Beirut airport, and it would have no trouble ensuring that the cash would pass through.
nytimes
Una storia che è stata raccontata in tante maniere.
E in fondo non importa più di tanto finchè fa sognare verso orizzonti lontani.
Nell'abbraccio di Hamad bin Khalifa agli ostaggi di questa vicenda, e anche in quello di Haji Qassem ai figli dei martiri iraniani, si percepiscono tutte le contraddizioni e le incertezze di un medio-oriente vittima di se stesso prima che dell'ipocrisia dell'Occidente.
Spymaster, mostri, assassini. Spesso li si definisce così.
Sono innanzitutto uomini che per dare stabilità alla propria nazione, devono trovarla in qualche modo in se stessi.
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