UN General Assembly and the Weight of the Past
As delegates converge in New York for the UN General Assembly, the city embodies a blend of conversation, diplomacy, and global aspirations.
This year, however, that scene is overshadowed by a troubling reality. Syrian President Ahmad Alshara, whose ties to al-Qaeda and its affiliates are well-known, navigates the same streets that still bear the scars of September 11, 2001.
I can still recall that day vividly.
Back then, I held the position of Director of Arabic Services while based in London. Standing at the corner of 17th Avenue and Pennsylvania Avenue, chaos engulfed Washington, D.C. Staff members from the old executive office building rushed by, fearing another hijacked plane was headed toward the White House.
As an immigrant from Lebanon, I felt an intense sense of duty to my adopted country.
This sense of obligation has aided me in establishing Arabic radio and television channels. I later served for seven years as Director of Network News and as Executive Vice President for the organization that managed them.
Those vivid memories—fear and a profound sense of disruption—come bubbling back up as I realize that the newly appointed president of Syria, connected to al-Qaeda in the past, is walking the streets of New York this month.
For President Trump, this moment is particularly personal.
New York isn’t just any city to him; it’s his city. His tower stands there, his legacy was built there, and the wounds of 9/11 still linger. Families still mourn nearly 3,000 lost souls.
Seeing someone linked to such a dark past welcomed in Manhattan under the guise of diplomacy transcends the realm of foreign policy—it’s a matter of moral clarity.
Shara’s history is indeed troubling.
He joined al-Qaeda in Iraq during his youth, rising in the ranks during the resistance that followed the invasion. After his release from U.S. prisons, he re-emerged in Syria as the leader of the Nusra Front.
In 2016, he created Hait Taharil al-Sham, attempting to distance himself from al-Qaeda. Yet, U.S. officials and counterterrorism experts maintain that changing names doesn’t erase the ideologies rooted in violence and extremism.
This history is far from abstract; it deeply affects survivors, families, and first responders. The sirens, the smoke rising over the Hudson, the altered skyline, and the names etched into monuments serve as a constant reminder.
The idea that Sharaa can set foot on American soil without reckoning with his past feels like reopening an old wound.
The Trump administration views Sharaa’s presence at the UN as a chance—not just to stabilize Syria and counter Iran’s influence, but to claim a diplomatic victory.
However, the optics matter. Welcoming Sharaa without confronting the risks his past represents sends a troubling message, suggesting that political convenience trumps history.
In a city that bore the brunt of al-Qaeda’s atrocities, this sentiment feels like a betrayal.
If Sharaa wishes to be seen as a legitimate leader, he has a responsibility.
He must publicly denounce al-Qaeda and its affiliates. He needs to unequivocally label the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon as acts of terrorism.
He must categorically state that Osama bin Laden was not a hero or misunderstood; he was a mastermind behind mass murder.
President Trump, who understands the significance of imagery better than most, faces an ethical dilemma.
This situation isn’t solely about geopolitics; it concerns the families shattered by loss, the first responders who witnessed the disaster, and a city that continues to remember.
If Trump genuinely cherishes New York, as he claims, then he must ensure that Sharaa confronts his past clearly and without ambiguity.
A vague acknowledgment won’t signal progress; instead, it would serve as a stark reminder that some wounds are everlasting.
If Sharaa remains unacknowledged in relation to 9/11, his presence in New York won’t symbolize hope. Rather, it will feel like an unforgivable burden.
American Middle East analyst Mouafac Harb previously served as executive vice president and director of network news for several U.S.-funded Arabic media outlets.

