In 1998, I was living in Amman, Jordan. My Arab neighbor across the stucco fence was Mohammad al-Qudsi, a prominent businessman in the capital city. One brisk February morning, my son and I stepped out of our driveway to go for a jog. Parked just a few feet from our driveway and directly in front of Mohammad al-Qudsi’s entry gate was a long Mercedes automobile. In the rear seat was a mysterious looking old man—all wrapped up in a topcoat and keffiyah scarf with a conical-shaped red “Fez” hat atop his head. The chauffeur had obviously entered Mohammad’s house for some reason and left the passenger to wait in the Mercedes. My son commented that the old man appeared to be someone important; but alas, we moved on and upon our return, the car was gone.
A few days later, I was driving into our area and attempted to proceed to my driveway. As I got closer, I encountered several police cars blocking my access. Suddenly, a policeman ran over to me and said, “It is forbidden to enter this area. You must turn around and leave.” I countered with, “That is my house, and I need to enter my driveway.” “No, no,” he said. “The president of Syria has died, and you cannot come any further.” Thinking I had misunderstood, I asked him to please repeat the statement. Sure enough, he said, “Mr. Mohammad al-Qudsi’s father [who was a former president of Syria] has died. That’s his car right there!” He pointed to the silver Mercedes that often parked near our driveway as evidence. After a few more pleas, including the offer to produce my residence permit, the frantic policeman finally relented and allowed me through. Once the initial shock wore off, I kept trying to process the pieces of the puzzle and muttered to myself, “What on earth is going on? Does that policeman possibly mean that the old man in that Mercedes was a former president of Syria? Is that what he means?”
My guess was right; the old man in the rear seat of that silver Mercedes was none other than Nazim al-Qudsi, the 14th president of Syria from 1961 until 1963. Mr. al-Qudsi was born in Aleppo and had an extensive career in Syrian politics. Armed with a PhD from the University of Geneva, the brilliant young Nazim al-Qudsi was appointed ambassador to the U.S., and in 1950, rose from Parliament to be the Prime Minister of Syria. In 1961, Mr. al-Qudsi was elected president of the country, where he served for 2 years. As a reformer, al-Qudsi clashed with the political elite of the country and eventually fell victim to a military coup. Mr. al-Qudsi fled to Lebanon and then to England. Jordan finally granted him exile and he lived there to the ripe age of ninety-one.
The hullabaloo in front of my house finally made sense. Family and friends of Nazim al-Qudsi had come to Mohammad al-Qudsi’s home to offer initial condolences. After all, unbeknown to me, my neighbor Mohammad al-Qudsi was the eldest son of the previous president of Syria!
The family held the formal times of condolence for Nazim al-Qudsi in a huge villa in the Abdoun section of the capital. Since I was an immediate neighbor to Mohammad al-Qudsi, it was my cultural responsibility to attend the condolence sessions. I dressed in a suit and tie and showed up as early as possible. Male family members and friends, along with a couple of Muslim imams filled the “male only” section of the villa. Dignitaries from all sectors of the country filed in and out. Once I got comfortable, I soon recognized prominent government faces and a couple of royal Hashemite family members that I had previously seen only on television.
After a few minutes, my neighbor Mohammad guided me across the room to a distinguished looking gentleman and said, “This is Abdul Raouf Hamid, he is here from Damascus as the envoy and representative of President Hafiz al-Assad.” Trying to act composed, I mustered my best version of Arabic and said, “Yes, and it is nice to meet you.”
Returning to my seat, my mind flashed back a few years to the occasion when Syrian president Hafez al-Assad visited Jordan. Mr. Assad and King Hussein stood in the back of a cream-colored top-down Rolls-Royce and motored slowly down the road that ran immediately in front of our house. My little sons and I stood in awe as the entourage passed 20 yards in front of us. The clearest part of the memory was the “slaying of the sheep” ritual that occurred right in front of us. The Rolls-Royce unexpectedly drew to a full stop. Drawing on ancient ritual, the Jordanians wished to honor their visiting guest by the offering of animals. Bedouins drew their knives and soon blood and sheep flesh filled the area. This was Jordanian hospitality at its finest, and Mr. Assad was rightly honored!
Today, my mind goes back to that February day in 1998 when I learned that “the president of Syria had died.” Yes, the former president of Syria, Mr. Nazim al-Qudsi, was the mysterious figure in the rear seat of that Mercedes. And here is the further irony of the story: another former president of Syria, Hafez al-Assad, died in 2002, four years after the death of Nazim al-Qudsi. Upon the death of Hafez al-Assad in 2002, his son Bashar assumed the presidency of Syria. And the rest of the story is that 22 years later, on the morning of December 8, 2024, as rebel troops first entered Damascus, Bashar al-Assad fled to Moscow and the Russian government granted him political asylum.
Please pray for the nation of Syria during this tumultuous time!
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