‘Nice house': Donald Trump praises Al Wajba Palace, residence of Emir of Qatar
US President Donald Trump received a grand ceremonial welcome in Qatar before visiting Al Wajba Palace, the official residence of
.
The Emir personally guided Trump through the palace during the tour.
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At one point, the US President turned to the camera and remarked, 'Nice house.'
Trump's arrival in Qatar was marked by a high-profile escort. His aircraft, Air Force One, was accompanied by Qatari F-15 fighter jets as a special gesture. On the ground, a motorcade led by Tesla Cybertrucks transported him through Doha.
The Qatar leg of Trump's Middle East tour followed his visit to Saudi Arabia, where he met with Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman.
During his visit, Trump also announced the lifting of
after holding talks with Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa on the sidelines of his regional trip.
Trump announced a $200 billion deal for Qatar to purchase 160 jets from US airplane manufacturer Boeing. Ahead of his trip, Trump said he planned to accept a plane from Qatar to be used as Air Force One, raising legal, ethical and security concerns.
Trump is scheduled to make his final stop in the United Arab Emirates on Thursday.
Al Wajba Palace
Al Wajba Palace, situated in Doha, Qatar, serves as a prominent royal residence for the Qatari ruling family. Historically, it has been associated with HH Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, the Father Emir of Qatar . The palace is renowned for its minimalist design, characterized by simple and regular geometric lines, and is intended to provide luxurious accommodation for the royal family .
In addition to its residential function, Al Wajba Palace has been the venue for significant state events. For instance, it hosted the wedding ceremony of the Minister of Interior and Commander of the Internal Security Force, Lekhwiya, Sheikh Khalifa bin Hamad Al Thani .
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A family's decade-long search for children stolen by Assad's regime
DAMASCUS—The resemblance was striking. The boy in the photograph had the family's same thick eyebrows and looked about 17, the same age Ahmed Yaseen would now be—if he was still alive. Could it be him, his aunt Naila al-Abbasi wondered? More than 12 years had passed since the boy and his five sisters had disappeared, after Syrian military intelligence detained them and their parents in the early years of the uprising against President Bashar al-Assad. Six months after rebels toppled the Assad regime in a seismic moment for the Middle East, many Syrians are still searching for missing relatives, including an estimated 3,700 children. An investigation by The Wall Street Journal, based on secret documents from the Assad regime and conversations with former detainees and corroborated by Syria's current government, found that at least 300 children like Ahmed were forcibly separated from their families and placed in orphanages after being detained during the country's civil war. 'He looks very similar," said al-Abbasi, who had scrolled through hundreds of photographs on Syrian orphanages' websites before finding this one. 'The nose, even the mouth." More than 112,000 Syrians arrested since the start of an uprising against Assad in 2011 remain unaccounted for, according to the Syrian Network for Human Rights. That figure is comparable to the number of people who have disappeared in Mexico's drug wars, though Syria's population is only a fifth the size. Children are often used to punish or pressure opponents in war. Russia has taken thousands of children from Ukraine. Decades after Argentina's military dictatorship ended, families are still finding missing relatives seized as newborns and adopted by military couples. Dealing with this brutal legacy is a crucial challenge for the new Syria, whose government, led by an Islamist group that cut its past ties with al Qaeda, is trying to assert its control over a country riven by sectarian tensions. Syria's presidency said in May that it will set up commissions to probe crimes committed under Assad, compensate victims and trace the missing. But it is a huge and complex task for a government beset with other pressing issues, including a battered economy. Failure to address the issue of missing people 'could contribute to cycles of violence," said Kathryne Bomberger, director general of the International Commission on Missing Persons. At the time of their abduction, the Yaseen children were living in the relatively affluent Dumar neighborhood of Damascus. Their mother, Rania al-Abbasi, was a national chess champion who ran a successful dental clinic. In photographs Rania posted on social media, the children are pictured smiling alongside SpongeBob and Spider-Man performers during a trip to Syria's coast. Other pictures show Ahmed on a playground swing; wearing a cardboard crown; and with his hair gelled neatly into a crest. When the uprising against Assad began, relatives urged them to leave Syria. The family had a history with the regime: Rania's father—a prominent religious scholar—had spent 13 years in prison under Assad's father, President Hafez al-Assad, because of his oppositional views. Islamists were often considered a threat by the secular Assad regime. After Rania's father was released, the family went into exile in Saudi Arabia, where Ahmed was born. But his parents wanted to raise him and his sisters where they had roots and returned to Damascus in 2009. 'She thought she was safe," said Rania's younger sister, Naila, a doctor who remained in Saudi Arabia with much of the family. Between six children and work, Rania had no time to get involved in political activity or protests, even if she supported their demands. But she did give generously to Syrians displaced by the government's crackdown. And her father, from abroad, had voiced support for the uprising. It was enough to bring the regime's fist down on the family. On March 9, 2013, Syrian intelligence agents came for Rania's husband, Abdurrahman Yaseen. Two days later, they returned and took Ahmed and the other children, between 1 and 14 years old, along with their mother. The father's fate eventually came to light in a cache of 50,000 images smuggled out of Syria by a forensic photographer who defected in 2013. The grim catalog contained photographs of some 6,786 Syrians who had died in custody, some with their eyes gouged out. Among the images was one of Abdurrahman. Still, there was no sign of Ahmed, his siblings or Rania. The strongest lead came from another mother who had been detained with her children the year after al-Abbasi and her family. Freed in a prisoner exchange in 2017, Rasha al-Sharbaji revealed that security services had seized her five children and placed them in an orphanage run by SOS Children's Villages, an international charity with several locations in Syria. She said she recovered her children from the charity after being released. Asking around, relatives learned that four sisters with age gaps similar to four of the Yaseen girls were living in one of the centers of SOS Children's Villages. But orphanage staff were too afraid to speak, according to family members, and a lawyer appointed to ask the authorities received no answers. After the regime crumbled in December, thousands of prisoners stumbled out of fetid prison cells as Syrians celebrated in the streets. Scattered abroad, members of the extended family mobilized a fresh search, including approaching SOS Children's Villages again. In a statement, its Syria operation acknowledged it had received 139 children 'without proper documentation" between 2014 and 2018, when it demanded the authorities stop placing such cases in its care. Most of those children were returned to authorities under the former regime, SOS Children's Villages said, citing an audit into past records. The Journal couldn't determine what happened to them later. 'We regret the untenable situation we found ourselves in when receiving the children and unequivocally disapprove of such practices," it said. The group said it had taken steps to ensure it didn't happen again. The organization has since filed a claim with Damascus's public prosecutor to open an official investigation into the Yaseen children's disappearance. It said there was no record they had ever been placed in SOS Children's Villages' care. The family expanded their search to other orphanages. Baraa al-Ayoubi, director of the al-Rahma orphanage in Damascus, said Syrian security agents had placed 100 children of detainees in her care over the course of the war, but none of them belonged to Rania. The orphanage was forbidden to disclose details about the children, even to their relatives, when Assad was in power, she said. Eventually, all the children were handed back to their parents, she said. 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'I am planning on getting a newer one for cheaper soon," he said. Write to Becky Peterson at
