THE NEW YORK TIMES: For fallen Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad and family, an exile of luxury and impunity

Just a few weeks after a whirlwind rebel offensive seized control of his homeland last year, a Syrian expatriate in Moscow treated himself to a meal in the city’s tallest skyscraper.

With views from the 62nd floor, stylish hosts and elaborate cocktails, the restaurant “Sixty” regularly welcomes members of Russia’s political elite and foreign celebrities.

So the Syrian diner, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said he had not been surprised when servers asked him to refrain from taking photos.

But he was surprised to discover who one of the VIPs dining in his midst was: his country’s ousted dictator, Bashar al-Assad.

For more than five decades, the al-Assad family name has been synonymous with brutal autocracy. Now, the al-Assads are fugitives living in Moscow.

Both the deposed president and his brother Maher al-Assad, one of the regime’s most powerful military leaders, have betrayed little about how they spend their days in the country that propped them up when they were in power and took them in when they fell.

But from witnesses and family friends, and digital clues left on hard-to-track social media accounts, reporters for The New York Times have uncovered glimpses into a life of luxury and impunity.

Details of the al-Assad family’s lives emerged from a Times investigation into the whereabouts of 55 of the regime’s highest-ranking officials. The people who spoke to the Times — including family friends, relatives and former officials — insisted on anonymity out of concern for their safety.

The al-Assads’ luxurious exile began from the first moments they fled to Moscow via private jets and car convoys, according to a relative, two family friends and two ex-military officers from the 4th Division, which Maher al-Assad led. All of them have spoken to, stayed with or met members of the al-Assad family.

Under the close guard of Russian security services, they first stayed in opulent apartments run by the Four Seasons, which can cost up to $13,000 per week.

From there, the deposed president and his family moved to a two-story penthouse in Federation Tower, the same skyscraper where the restaurant Sixty is located.

Later, Bashar al-Assad was moved to a villa in the secluded suburb of Rublyovka, west of Moscow, according to a former Syrian official in touch with the family, another acquaintance and a regional diplomat told by Russian officials.

The enclave is popular with the Russian elite and boasts a “luxury village” shopping complex. The Russian security services continue to guard al-Assad and oversee his movements, the former officials and regional diplomat said, and have ordered the family not to make public statements.

In February, Russian authorities moved quickly, three other former officials said, when al-Assad’s son Hafez, 24, wrote about the family’s escape on social media and shared a video of himself strolling through Moscow. He has not posted online since.

Two acquaintances said they had seen Maher al-Assad, a baseball cap low over his eyes, several times at a gleaming skyscraper in Moscow’s business district where they believed he was living. One family friend said he lived in the Capital Towers buildings in that district.

In June, he was seen in a video on social media at the trendy Myata Platinum hookah bar in Afimall, a nearby shopping and entertainment complex.

While in power, Maher al-Assad and the forces he led were accused of shooting unarmed protesters, enforcing “surrender or starve” sieges and running a regional drug trafficking operation estimated to have made them billions of dollars.

Judging by the activities of the al-Assad daughters, the family has retained significant wealth.

In November, the ousted dictator invited friends and Russian officials to a villa in the suburbs for an opulent party celebrating his daughter Zein’s 22nd birthday, according to a relative, a former regime officer and a family friend whose children or close friends attended the party.

Bashar al-Assad’s cousin and Maher al-Assad’s daughter, Sham al-Assad, also appeared to celebrate her 22nd birthday with an extravaganza, held over two nights in mid-September at a gold-tiled French restaurant called Bagatelle in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, and then on a private yacht.

The social media accounts of both women are set to private, with usernames that don’t obviously signal their identities. But the Times found and confirmed the authenticity of the accounts through tips from relatives and family friends, then examined images and videos from public-facing Instagram posts by their friends.

One post from Sham al-Assad’s birthday showed golden 22-shaped balloons surrounded by gifts in bags from luxury brands such as Hermès, Chanel and Dior.

Another captured revellers at Bagatelle surrounded by Champagne sparklers. There is a glimpse of Sham al-Assad herself, shaking a bottle of Cristal in a cheering crowd. Another photo tags her cousin Zein’s Instagram, though she is not seen in the shot.

The party continued the next day on a yacht emblazoned with the name “Stealth Yacht” in lights, with a DJ and flashing strobe lights, according to the posts.

A social media account for a Dubai-based private rental yacht by that name also featured photos from the party. The boat is equipped with smoke machines, multiple bars and a hot tub, and costs several thousand dollars for several hours, plus thousands more for DJs, bartenders and performers, according to marketing materials.

Both daughters have been living in the UAE as well as partying there.

According to two family friends and two former military officers who remain in contact with Maher al-Assad or his entourage, the elder al-Assads struck a special agreement with Emirati officials that allows their children to stay in the country.

Emirati officials did not reply to questions from the Times.

Just weeks after the fall of the regime, Zein al-Assad returned to her studies in the UAE, at the Abu Dhabi branch of the Sorbonne, a renowned French university, according to family friends and a classmate. She was accompanied on campus, the classmate said, by large and imposing bodyguards.

Not all Syrian students embraced her return. In a group chat, one student told Zein al-Assad she was “not welcome,” according to two people who said they had seen the exchange.

Shortly afterward, they said, the entire chat was shut down, and the student was no longer seen on campus. A relative of the student said he had been questioned by Emirati authorities and later left the university in part because of this incident.

The Sorbonne Abu Dhabi said the student’s dismissal was a “purely academic matter” and cited three infractions, including cheating. The acrimony in the chat group with Zein al-Assad had “no connection” to the dismissal, the university said.

The classmate said Zein al-Assad had not attended classes for part of her last term. But she did pick up a diploma in June at the Moscow State Institute of International Relations, where she was also enrolled. Photographs of the graduation showed her brothers and mother in attendance.

In exile, Bashar al-Assad and his brother are said to have taken different approaches to how they treat those who once served them.

Maher al-Assad has been relatively generous with his closest officers, according to two former commanders and a family friend in touch with him. He sends money to help old allies find apartments or start small businesses in their new lives, they said.

But Bashar al-Assad’s personal assistant was left stranded in Moscow by his former boss, according to two of the man’s friends and a fellow aide who said they had spoken with the assistant.

The assistant, whose duties had included carrying the president’s bags and opening doors for him, was among the very few people al-Assad took on his furtive flight to Moscow in December 2024.

The assistant was ordered to join so suddenly, the friends and the fellow aide said, that he was unable to grab his passport or pack money and clothes.

The assistant accompanied al-Assad to the luxury apartments at the Four Seasons, where he was told to share a separate suite with two other al-Assad aides. The next morning, a hotel staff member handed them an eye-watering bill, the friends and the fellow aide said.

Panicking, the three aides tried repeatedly to call al-Assad. The deposed president never answered.

Russian officials eventually intervened, offering to transfer the aides to a Soviet-era military site with other lower-ranking regime officers. The penniless personal assistant arranged instead to return to Syria.

He now lives quietly with his family in a mountain village, hoping to avoid notice, the three people in touch with him said. He declined to speak with the Times when approached by an intermediary.

A year on, the assistant is struggling, and sometimes accepts money from another former regime official to make ends meet. The al-Assads, the fellow aide said, never offered anything.

“Bashar lives his life fully, like nothing happened,” the former colleague said. “He humiliated us when he was here, and he screwed us when he left.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

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