'As a computer geek who had never even been spanked by his parents, or been in a fist fight, Akram was known as a gentle boy who was "homely" (baytuti). The only reason he had been arrested was because he had liked a social media post criticizing the Assad régime. The power cable swooshed through the air, and landed on his skin like a hornet bite. It took his breath away, at first shocked him into an involuntary, bestial scream, followed by the excruciating pain a second later. "You want freedom, right ?!" yelled the torturer sardonically, as he whipped him again, using his full force, "here's your freedom!" Blood flowed down Akram's tender back and legs and dripped on the dirty cement floor. He remained at the Air Force Intelligence branch at Mezze military airport for three months, a stay which change his life forever.' [p1]
'Former detainees such as him suffer from a certain speechlessness, as the violence they suffered was literally unspeakable and they remain at a loss for words.' [p31]
'Inserting solid tools in the anus. Touching women's genitals. Complete stripping during inspection, interrogation, or torture. Tying the penis to prevent a detainee from peeing. These were methods of torture observed in the Palestine branch.' [p46]
‘The year 1983, saw the start of a more relaxed treatment. It was – as we later found out – a plan to extort money from the prisoners’ families. An impromptu mini-market was opened in the prison selling tea, some vegetables and stolen clothes. During their visits, parents brought money and other items to their sons. The Prison Director confiscated 90% of them, and put them in the mini market for Abu Awad to sell to prisoners at exorbitant prices. Money was manipulated out of the prisoners by all means, but at least people experienced a level of comfort.
Some of the beatings and torture were lifted. We were also able to raise our heads and open our eyes during “breathing” and in front of the police. You were able to laugh if we couldn’t hold it, which was forbidden before.
The friction happened between the pillars of the régime. This resulted in the overthrow of the prison administration, which was replaced by a new administration eagerly seeking revenge. They became more creative in modes of torment than before. The frequent beatings, the lack of food, the abundance of everything that disturbed daily life were back.’ [p199]
‘Treatment in Saydnaya was unfair and devoid of any constraints. Torture came from a justifying mentality by Military Police, on the basis they were dealing with “traitors”. From the onset they ask about the level of education among detainees; those educated received more intense torture. I told them I was a tailor to protect myself from the increased dose of torture, as happened with doctors, engineers, and other academics.’ [p214]
‘The detainees imprisoned on charges of Communism were moved to the second floor after a message they were trying to smuggle out was caught. It described the policemen as “bats of darkness” and us, the Islamists, as “comrades of the struggle”.’ [p218]
‘There was now a prison emir from the al-Qaeda group running his group’s affairs. A more militant current of al-Qaeda was born in prison, whose members later joined the Islamic State. It was this group that took control of the ground floor of the prison in the final confrontation. That group considered everyone infidels, even Salafi-jihadists and Al-Qaeda. The third group of the prisoners were the open-minded Salafists. They too had different factions that considered the others as infidels. The fourth group of the prisoners were the rest of the detainees, held on democratic backgrounds, or under espionage or political charges.’ [p232]
‘ “Seven or eight soldiers would enter the dormitory and take us one by one to the wheel.” These rounds of torture killed at least one or two detainees on every wing. “The death of any of us did not inflict sadness or grief. Our death was a joy of salvation for us, and at the same time our colleagues were happy to share our food. Saydnaya killed humanity within us and turned us into a different type of human beings.” ‘ [p245]
‘Some had nothing to do with the revolution but were kidnapped for ransom money, or were taken hostage in place of their relatives fighting in the Free Syrian Army. Some were forced to record televised testimonies confirming the régime’s version that the revolution was an armed act of Islamic extremists. After that they negotiated with their families for their release in exchange for large sums of money.’ [p292]
‘The Mukhabarat have been extorting Syrian society for decades, for example in setting up checkpoints or soliciting bribes for various economic activities. This extractive and parasitic attitude toward Syrian society manifests itself especially in the Gulag. As the father of one Syrian detainee said: “Detention is expensive. If you have a detainee [in your family] it means the same officers who are responsible for your pain enjoy your money.” ‘ [p315]
‘…a crime that will last long, meaning you will keep thinking of it. It will go with you, not like rape, there’s nothing like rape, but it’s in a way; instrumentalising the rape as well, is to target the person, but also the whole social environment, and the whole society, with crimes that we go with you, as the régime says, forever. Marking the bodies of the people, through torture, through hunger, through rape; so that the crime will live with those that survived, and with their families, as long as possible. That is a policy, it’s not just violent thugs who go and torture and kill.
So this was also one of what we learned from the Syrian war, and finally, conspiracy theories. Since September 11th, anything that happens, you might have conspiracy theory about it. Who’s behind it, who’s responsible, who benefits from this, etc. And with the age of social media, you do have on Syria lots of conspiracy theories. Who is behind what happened; is a matter of pipeline that should have passed by Syria, that’s why Westerners created the war; Assad is a resistance against Israel and imperialists, so the imperialists created all that.
And you have unfortunately, on the left part of the political maps, in many European countries, but also the region, and in Turkey, in many places: those who believe of a plot against Assad because his resistance, because he’s anti-imperialist; and they supported him for that. And that was horrible, because as if they contributed to a racist approach, when it comes to thinking of Syrians as people manipulated by remote control, by invisibilising them, by bringing them out of the picture, and just talking about few geostrategic concerns, that anyone can talk about, without knowing anything about the region.
Plus, there was also in some places, this attempt at telling the Syrians what is better for them. I’ll give you the advice, because I’m wise. I will tell you what you should do and should not do, and we have seen it a lot, and this is unfortunately related, not only to the Middle East, I think the approach towards some African countries could also be the same, in Asia as well. Even in our societies here, the class issue might lead to something similar; but Syria showed us to which extent we can invisibilise people, we can dehumanise them, and just talk about some borders in our café, giving the impression that we know much more than they do, because we are progressive, so they should listen to us, and forget about their dignities and rights.
When I said it’s documented, we know who killed whom in Syria. It’s not true that no one knows who killed whom, as some people started to say. Regions and neighbourhoods who are bombed, we know who bombed them, because everything is filmed, because military operations are documented, because flights are documented.
And you can see that 87% of the civilian victims of the conflict, who are documented - because this is also another thing, always figures can be questioned, right, but usually in conflicts that last more than a year, two three, four, we’re talking about ten years, you have many other victims that are not in the statistics, because they die for other reasons. When you are displaced, you might die in an accident, in an area that you don’t know quite well. When all hospitals are saturated, many people with chronic disease, or with other problems, might not have health care, and will die. In these kind of contexts, cancers and heart attacks, are much higher than in normal contexts. So the figures might be much more important when it comes to the civilian losses, and we’re not talking about military losses, that might bring the figure up to more than half a million.
So 87% were killed by the Syrian régime. 3% by the Russian forces, making that 90%. 2.19% by ISIS, 1.83% by the opposition, 1.32% by the Americans and the US-led coalition, 0.62% by the Kurdish militias, and 0.23% by al-Qaeda or al-Nusra, and you have 3.65% by unidentified. This is one indicator about criminality, but not only, it’s also about the firepower, or about the intensity of the bombing that we saw in Syria. And those figures here, when I said we know the names and IDs of the people, it’s not just estimations.
When it comes to those who were forcibly disappeared, we have 120,000 until today. 85% disappeared in the régime, 7.71% in the ISIS or Daesh, the rest in the jails of the other groups.
So, the question of impunity, and I conclude with this. There are a few developments recently, which might be interesting developments. They are not sufficient, but something is maybe changing. In Germany, you have many cases, due to the fact that some of the perpetrators, or some of the criminals, live in Germany. And some of their victims live in Germany. There were many cases brought to court, and many decisions that were taken by the German justice, that are encouraging in the struggle, or in the fight, against impunity.
You also have the Netherlands and Canada, that did send, in fact, a case to the ICJ – International Court of Justice – when it comes to crimes against humanity committed by the régime. They talk about torture and rape specifically, and that is important, and the ICJ accepted the case, and it will continue working on it, so that is also another sign of hope.
Now France did issue an arrest warrant, to three generals of the régime; Ali Mamlouk, Jamil Hassan, and I forget the name of the third. Who are responsible for the death of two Syrian-French citizens. The father Mazzen Dabbagh, and his son Patrick. They have the French nationality, and their brother lives in France, so he brought the cause to court, and there were investigations about the place where they were arrested, where they died. Their families were just sent certificates of the death, without the bodies of course. But there is a clear case, leading to those arrest warrants.
And more important, two weeks ago, an arrest warrant against Bashar al-Assad himself, his brother Maher, and two other persons working for him who were in charge of the chemical programme. Why? Because this is a crime against humanity, with the chemical programme, and there were enough documentation, by Syrians who are in France now, and by relatives of victims who are in France now, allowing the French justice to start working on the case.
So these are some examples. There are others that will follow in Sweden, in Belgium, in other places. There were attempts also here in England. There was the case of the American journalist Colvin, who was killed in Homs, in the US. Even the officer who gave the order of bombing her was revealed. And what happened to him, after his name was revealed in the court in America? He was killed in Syria, by the régime, by some people who eliminated him in Deir Ezzor. Exactly as most of those who were involved probably with the assassination of Hariri, or at least their names were known as possible people who have liaison with that, were also killed; Kanaan, and then Rustom Ghazali, generals of the Syrian army.
So this is an indicator as well that the Syrian régime takes into consideration, that maybe something might move when it comes to the justice. Even if so far, impunity gave this régime, and many other Arab régimes, but also the Israeli state, lots of arrogance. And when you have impunity, why not commit more crimes to protect yourself, to “defend” yourself, or to impose yourself?
But maybe if something starts to change, and if the régime is a bit alarmed by it, it means it is a bit serious. So hopefully, this sign of hope, with the other sign of hope, which is the work of the Syrian diaspora, on cultural questions, on documentation, on legal issues, on preserving the memory, and preserving the names and the hopes of the people who fought for twelve years in Syria; maybe this would be a note of hope with which I will finish my presentation, and I thank you for your patience.’
‘… in Deir Ezzor and Raqqa, where Daesh imposed itself.
Now, regardless of all that, the social basis of the régime, and the demography supporting the régime, was becoming more and more tired with the war. By 2015, with all those complications, and lack of international political investment in Syria, lack of initiatives - there was a UN initiative in Geneva bringing some representatives of the régime, and different opposition groups to talk about a possible constitution, reconciliation, ending the conflict – all of that is agonising in fact, not progressing.
But on the ground, the régime is losing control over more and more territory. By summer 2015, the régime controlled only between 18 and 20% of Syria. Mainly Damascus, the area around Damascus, and all the areas close to the Lebanese borders, plus the Mediterranean coast, where is the majority of the Alawite community, that Assad was trying to mobilize as much as possible, and connecting his own destiny to the destiny of the whole community. And when it comes to the Lebanese borders, that was strategic for the Iranians and to Hezbollah, not to lose that area, because this is the connection between Syria and Lebanon, for the weapons, for strategic consideration; and they kept as well a kind of corridor, connecting that area to Iraq. Because if you look at the map, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, they needed a territorial continuity. That’s why Hezbollah’s efforts were mostly around Damascus, and around the Lebanese border.
But that was not enough any more. So the Iranians did negotiate, as of March 2015 until June 2015, with the Russians. On a possible Russian intervention, to save a régime, that the Iranians said we cannot continue any more. Because, at the time, Iran brought not only Hezbollah, that was securing the part in Syria that was close to the Lebanese borders, but they brought as well Iraqi militias, they then brought Hazara from Afghanistan and refugees in Iran militia, then there would be Pakistani militia Zainebiyoun; they brought them, and they were supporting Assad. Plus there was a kind of decentralisation of the security machine of the régime, by allowing local militias, pro- régime, in the Alawite areas, in some of the Christian areas, and in many other places, to emerge, and to control the ground, so the army of the régime that is losing men, and cannot recruit any more, could be on the fronts with the militias that Iran brought.
And this is what would lead finally, in September, to Russian intervention in Syria. Russian intervention, that in a way, would show that, overthrowing Assad is not possible any more. It became an illusion to consider, after the Russian intervention, that militarily on the ground, we can overthrow Assad.
And gradually, in fact, the Russian intervention will allow Assad to start seizing the territories that his régime lost during the four previous years. Moving from around 20%, to what is today between 60 and 62 or 63% of the territory of Syria, with all major cities under his control. And that was one objective, to have urban Syria under the control of the régime, and to keep a divided, fragmented, rural Syria outside the control of the régime, if he can not seize it back.
So the war that Russia will lead, two years later will see its impact, after seizing back eastern Aleppo, after taking over the Ghouta and Daraa, ending with Homs before and then with northern Hama, pushing away any threat on the city, plus Deir Ezzor. So the régime will connect most of its cities, except for Idlib and Raqqa, as important cities, will control them.
And in between, due to the fact that the Kurdish militias supported by the Americans were fighting Daesh on the ground, there would be an expansion of the Kurdish territorial control, that pushed Turkey to intervene directly, after being indirectly behind some of the opposition groups.
So by 2018, and after the two summers of 2017/18, by March 2019, because this is when Trump declared the war on Daesh as mission accomplished; since that time, we have a kind of statico. It’s not always 100% the same map, sometimes there are a few clashes here and there, that might change part of the control in this territory or the other; but in general, the map is the same since 2018. The régime controls 60% now of the territory, the Kurdish militias supported by the Americans control around 20-25%, and then you have 10-12% in two different enclaves controlled by the oppositions. One of them directly supported by Turkey, the other by the Americans in the south. And you have the Russian army, the Iranian forces and the series of militias they brought, you have the American army, the Turkish army, and you have regularly Israeli airstrikes on Hezbollah bases and on Iranian convoys in Syria. So, a country with different occupation forces.
So, this is the map now of the control. You can see it in red you have the régime, the Russians, the Iranians and their allies. In green you have the oppositions. When I say the oppositions, it’s rival groups, they’re not like a unified camp. So you have here in the Tanf area military bases, some refugees living down there, and supported by the Americans. In that area, some forces of the opposition were trained exclusively or only to fight ISIS, when ISIS existed, and they refused. They said we want to fight the régime and ISIS, so their mission was put on hold. And since that time, they have been in those bases. Sometimes they are attacked by Iranian drones, sometimes nothing happens and the Americans retaliate and bomb Iranian militias, but this is an area controlled by the opposition.
And that area in the north, where you have as well al-Nusra or Tahrir al-Sham, former al-Qaeda, in Idlib; and different groups of oppositions in the other part, directly supported by Turkey. In this area, you have the Turkish army present as well.
What is in yellow is the Kurdish controlled territory, with American bases, and a few special forces from France and Britain. And you have as well camps in this area, of the families of former Daesh fighters who were killed or captured by the Kurdish militias or by the Western allies. That is a big issue, whether they should return or not return. I think in different European countries, the debate exists, and each country adopted a different approach to it.
So, a fragmented country, an occupied country, and at the same time the destructions in Syria – that’s why I said at the beginning it’s a laboratory, maybe now in Gaza the destructions are more important too, the intensity of the bombing is much higher, and the space is much smaller - but what they call in French urbicide, you can say it; this urbicide, whether in Aleppo, whether in Homs, whether in some other places, the amount of destruction you see, was clearly also on purpose. To displace people, to make it impossible for them to return, because the question of the refugees, and the question of the displacement, was the policy, was the demographic policy based on sectarian or confessional lines.
And Assad did not hide it in two occasions when he mentioned that the Syrian social fabric or social tissue is much better now, when he said that those who left, he did not say they could not return, but he said that the country is much better now, and is more homogenous after their departure. Plus he refused their return during the process of normalisation with Saudi Arabia recently. After the normalisation with the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain. The three also who normalised at the same time with Israel their relations.
Now, what I said at the beginning about this laboratory, in addition to the map and the layers that we saw, with a conflict that had many wars at the same time. There is a kind of Kurdish/ Arab tribes war in the east, there are wars between many opposition groups, there are rival groups loyal to the régime, there is a war between the régime and the oppositions, there is a war between Russia and Iran on the one hand opposing them to the opposition, there were clashes between Turkey and Russia and then they reconciled, there are clashes between Turkey and Kurds that are negotiated regularly by the Americans and the Russians in order to contain them, Israel bombs Hezbollah and sometimes Hezbollah retaliates.
So you have different conflicts taking place at the same time, and the national cause of the Syrians in that sense, got lost. It did not disappear, it did not vanish, but it was lost in between all those ongoing conflicts and struggles on the Syrian land. It became an incarnation of the UN inability to deal with the situation, 14 vetoes. Sometimes, some diplomats say the vetoes were not that bad, because if there was no veto, we need to be able to impose what the UN resolution might stipulate. So, in some cases, it was not like a terrible arrangement, even for Western powers who were protesting against the Russian use of veto.
So, the inability of dealing with the conflict, and the fact that it kept evolving one year after the other, created questions and problems that we will live with for a long period of time. Definitely we cannot explain the Russian war in Ukraine based on the Syrian model. For sure, there are historical contexts and reasons for the Russian invasion of Ukraine. But if Russia was not allowed to intervene the way it did in Syria, I’m not sure the same configuration in the invasion of Ukraine that happened; Syria allowed Russia to feel much more confident in its aggressive policy, and made its invasion of Ukraine, I think, more possible.
The other thing, is that the refugee crisis, did lead in some places to hysteria. Not only in Europe, by the way, in Lebanon also, in Turkey in the last few years also. But parts of the reasons for this hysterical rise of the far right in many places, is related to migration and refugees, and for sure the Syrian crisis and the millions of Syrian refugees, in a way were part of the reason of that. Which means leaving the country, abandoning the country, and allowing a régime and some forces to displace people the way this happened, without any intervention, also had consequences elsewhere. In Europe, around the Mediterranean, and in the neighbouring countries where racism, crisis, instrumentalisation of the misery of the refugees, are now parts, characteristics, of the domestic political scenes.
And, of course, Syria is given as an example now in the Arab world. Whoever speaks again about revolution, revolutionary attempts, revolutionary aspirations, democratic transition; ah, you want to become like Syria. Exactly as a few years before, they use to say, ah, you want to become like Iraq. Or like Libya at the beginning of the revolutions. So Syria became a kind of a model. A kind of example given, always, you want Syria, or stability, even if under a dictator. You want Syria, and becoming a refugee, or you accept a Sisi or a Saied or many examples can be given.
And of course, Gulf countries used that example on many occasions as well, promoting what they call stability, rather than what revolutions create in terms of instability. So the counter-revolutionary model took Syria as an example, and built on it to end any democratic aspiration; even if that did not really work well, because remember 2019 Sudan, Iraq, Lebanon and Algeria, the second wave of Arab revolutions. But once again, they were defeated, like most of the previous ones. They were defeated, but it showed that the story is not over in a way. That there are still dynamics, and there are still factors that might bring people again to the streets; even if two defeats, and the second defeat immediately after it, Covid, and all the crisis that followed, and then the collapse of the Lebanese economy, and the civil war in Sudan.
It’s not encouraging any more, but for now we can see that revolutionary model was defeated, but maybe it’s not like a final defeat, or a definite defeat.
Syria became a laboratory of violence. I think this is the most documented conflict in history. We’ve seen almost everything. Sometimes the criminals themselves filmed what they did. We don’t know if they did it in order to frighten the others, in order to be proud about what they did. I think you also recently in the Guardian the films that were brought from Tadamon massacre, where they are laughing, while asking people to run and then shooting them, and then burning them. There are tens of videos, if not hundreds of videos like that, filmed by the killers, the perpetrators, themselves.
Plus you have lots of statistics, about all airstrikes. There are lots of satellites as well, filming all the time, showing all the time. There were some alerts about a possible airstrike would take place here, take place there. So it is extremely well documented. And that might be a basis, not only for a historical archive, but also a good basis for later judicial procedures, maybe some investigations.
This is the most documented conflict, and the philosophy of violence of the régime is not like just it’s war and everything is allowed. No. There were clear messages through the violence. For instance, not giving the families the bodies of their beloved ones who were killed under torture, or were just killed and their bodies were taken, is not something because of lack of administrative capacities. No. It is not allowing them to turn pages, to consider that they can go on. It is to keep them suspended in time, always waiting, always paralysed. It’s a way of paralysing a whole society, and that’s why there are still more than 100,000 people in jail in Syria under the régime control. Why wouldn’t they release them, they’re not any more a threat? The régime is not threatened any more, with the Russians. To keep them is also to paralyse millions of people: relatives, friends, families; who don’t want to talk about them.
There’s an economy that has been built, a mafia economy. I pay people money to get some information. And in many cases, the information is wrong, they are just lies, they are taking the money. Or I pay someone money, so they will treat my brother or my father or my son a bit better. They will give him some better food. They send food sometimes, and many people are still in Damascus. They don’t want to leave, because they hope that one day, maybe he is alive, maybe she is alive.
So that kind of paralysing a society is not just arbitrary violence, it’s a well-thought and planned violence. Exactly as the destruction of all suburbs of cities, with the idea of one day reconstructing these areas with a different economic model, for other social classes, and maybe for people from other communities as well, in a sectarian system, and sectarian régime approach.
The other issue, is allowing people to steal, what the Syrians call taafish, from afish, which means the furniture, meaning seizing the furniture. Taking what is so intimate. The idea of not only destroying the public space where you can live, but I will also destroy your private place. I will seize all your memories, all whatever you lived with, the furniture, your pictures; and I will sell them at markets, that were called the Sunni market, souk Sunna, in order to create more sectarian anger and hatred, and to divide the society even more. So this is also a well-thought policy.
The question of imposing sieges. I don’t know if you saw pictures from the Yarmouk Palestinian refugee camp, or from the Ghouta of Damascus, or from many other places. Besieging people, without a military in fact need, because the balance of power is so clear. And they have the air force, and they have the Russians. But it is also, to keep in their mind forever, that they suffered hunger, that they were suffocating under the siege, that the régime can do whatever it wanted to do with them, that their lives were just the matter of a decision.’
‘…And the borders might be more important than the political sociology. Also see the conspiracy theories, we’ve seen it more than in other cases, maybe because of its geography, or political geography. It reflected lots of divisions, not only in Syria, or the region, but internationally as well, in the two sides of the political map, whether on the right, or on the left.
After 12 years we can start examining some dynamics, that happened through the development of the conflict; or of the revolution at the beginning, then the war, then the series of military interventions. As you will see, the end result is today, a fragmented country, a destroyed country. We have records in terms of victims, in terms of internally displaced population, but also in terms of refugees.
When we were discussing the topic, I thought of impunity, because I think impunity has been, and continues to be, one of the most important and dangerous questions; in the whole Middle East, maybe also an international question.
But in the Middle East specifically, you do have a number of UN resolutions, a number of agreements, you have many things that were never respected, and none of those who did not respect them ever paid the price of that. So, this culture of impunity also allows criminality to develop, because those that commit crimes consider that they can always escape, after a period of time. Because they are protected by some superpower, because there are members in the Security Council backing them.
And the Middle East is the area where you have the highest number of vetoes. The United States used the veto 54 times, in relation to the Israeli question. Russia used it, in those 12 years, 14 times. China used it 13 times. So you have a concentration of what we call vetocracy in international relations, where we can sometimes not impose things, but we can definitely make things impossible or to happen; which allows impunity to continue to impose itself, and to modify lives of people and societies, and to contribute in a way to what we might call nihilism: this rejection, this anger, this frustration, against the whole world, since the whole world abandoned us, or is not seeing us as equals, or as if we are excluded from the international community, and international law was not designed to include us, to protect us, as it should protect other peoples.
So, what I will try to do, is first of all go through the phases of this Syrian struggle, of the Syrian revolution and war. What changed in six summers. It happened that these developments always took place in summers, and we’ll see how each summer, the configuration, the physiognomy of the conflict, was changing, and evolving, and other actors were projecting themselves into the Syrian scene. Then I’ll talk about some of what Syria revealed to us throughout the years.
So, for the chronology of events, in March 2011, many revolutions were already taking place. The whole movement started in Tunisia, then we had Egypt, Libya, Yemen, Bahrain. Then Syria surprised most people, because no one was expecting, in a country where you already have a régime that is not into just symbolic violence after imposing itself for years, or just using the police as in the case of Tunisia to control the society, or the army in the case of Egypt; leaving also some margin of freedom for some parties as long as they do not threaten the régime itself and the military; or as in Yemen due to the tribal structure, the political structure, some parties in the north or south.There were some spaces in which political activism can express itself , and then it threatens the existing régime, then there will definitely be violent repression.
In the case of Syria, we were already into permanent violence, a State of violence. This happened in the 70s. It happened in Hama in ’82, and it was kind of a lesson for the Syrian people, in the sense that what you will expect if you think of rebelling against the régime, if you think of challenging, of defying the régime, is what happened to Hama, and what will happen to you.
Hama ’82 is a trauma in Syria, because that city, in three weeks, was massacred, bombed. Thousands of people died, thousands disappeared, and maybe the Syrians thought in 2011, that this was possible, because no one documented what happened. Because no one covered what happened. There were no images. Victims were invisible. This whole orchestrated crime against the city happened without witnesses.
So, maybe in 2011, because of the mobile phones, because of the daily coverage, because of videos, because of documentation, because of media; the world will not allow Hama to be reproduced, once, twice, three times, four times, as things will happen later.
So Hama was a trauma, and many people after Hama thought it would take a long, long time before the Syrian people will try to challenge the régime again. And before Hama there was Palmyra or Tadmor, the famous prison in Syria, where torture was an industry, and where also hundreds of people died under torture.
You have many events in Syria’s modern history under Assad’s father from 1970-2000, then Assad Jr from 2000 until today in 2023, so we’re talking about 53 years of the Assads, and in 2011 it was already 41 years of the Assads. It was a surprise for many observers, to see demonstrations are taking place, but in this kind of situation, and with the régime that already saw what happened in Tunisia and Egypt, immediately the brutal violent repression will start, and will target demonstrators, and soon the country will go into an armed struggle, where either soldiers from the army left the troops, or young men took the weapons to defend themselves, to protect demonstrations.
So an armed struggle went in parallel with the demonstrations until 2012. So the first shift, or the first change, was the militarization of the revolution, as of August 2011, after a series of defections in the army, leading to the creation in June 2011, of the Free Syrian Army.
The second crucial development was in 2012. In the summer as well, when the Assad régime used for the first time its air force, bombing the areas that went out of its control; used the ballistic missiles, Scud missiles, sending them from southern Syria to the north.
And also in 2012, we have the Iranian involvement, in support of the régime, that became clear. It was in the beginning, maybe the first year, technical advisers, political advisers. Now we have more and more Iranian officers in Syria. And in that same summer of 2012, the first funeral of a Hezbollah fighter happened in Lebanon, showing that Hezbollah is involved, based on Iranian demands, in the Syrian war, that is now more and more a war.
This is an intervention that is clear now, the Iranian and the allies of Iran, but this is also the summer when the first elements of what we can call jihadism appear in Syria.
Let me just in a few words, distinguish between what we will call, and we will use that term later, jihadism, and what is kind of classical political Islam that already existed in Syria. The Muslim Brotherhood are a powerful group in Syria. Some other salafi groups also were present. What I mean by jihadists are not only those who are not Syrians, or coming from outside Syria, either from Iraq, or through the Turkish borders coming from Europe or sometimes from North Africa or from other places, with this idea of a jihad in Syria. What we mean by that is that they are not usually concerned with the territoriality of the conflict, or the political temporality of the conflict. They go wherever the conditions of jihad, according to the fatwa they receive, wherever those conditions are gathered, or they can prove them or find them or justify them. So they considered Syria a land of jihad, after considering Iraq a land of jihad, after being, or some of them at least or a previous generation, considering Afghanistan a land of jihad. Then Libya became a land of jihad, then Mali.
So they are not into the territoriality, or the temporality, of the political cause. They started arriving in Syria, proclaiming that they are going to build an Islamic motherland, they would fight the enemies of Islam in Syria; and the early elements, or let’s say those that arrived first in 2012, either came from Iraq, where they were already fighting the Americans, and the pro-American and pro-Iranian government in Baghdad, or probably the Turkish services allowed them to enter Syria, because they thought they can instrumentalise them against the Kurds. You know, that Turkey immediately after the revolution, had the Turkish obsession, if we can put it like that, with the Kurdish issue. So, to keep an eye on the Kurds, and to have a powerful group that might fight them if they will expand in their territorial control.
So there are a series of events in 2012, which will definitely modify the whole situation. And in summer 2013, a turning point with the chemical weapons. After a very sad statement made by Obama. Until now, no one knows if he was advised, and he said it after getting the advice of people around him, or it was just a statement made following a question by a journalist, “What is the red line in Syria?” That was the question. We have already thousands of people killed, tens of thousands wounded, many who disappeared, already stories about torture in jail are everywhere, rape is being used as a political instrument, we have displacement, refugees are arriving in Turkey and Jordan and in Lebanon, the neighbouring countries; and Obama was asked, what is the red line?
He said the only red line is chemical weapons. Meaning the régime should not use the chemical weapons. Now, of course, we can interpret later you it was understood by Assad; as long as you say there is only one red line, that is chemical weapons, it means we can keep killing people without chemical weapons. Except that, and this is related to impunity, Assad wanted to show, to the Syrians, his social bases or those who support him, and those who are opposed to him, that even that red line, he can cross it, and nothing will happen.
And though he was advised on that by Russians, there are already some debates about whether the Iranians wanted it or not, whether the Russians said we will test the American will, especially that Obama at the same time was negotiating the nuclear deal with Iran. And people around him were saying, we can’t negotiate with Iran, and then fight them in Syria. Others would add to this, that after the Libyan disaster as it was called in the American administration, following the UN resolution and the intervention against Gadaffi, the Americans didn’t want to intervene again in the region. He was promising he would withdraw from Iraq, and he withdrew in 2011 massively from Iraq. The American public opinion was opposed to any involvement.
We can talk about lots of considerations and factors, parameters that are legitimate, they can be discussed. But that statement, about the red lines, was very strange in its timing. And Assad tested it.
First in Jobar, which is a neighbourhood very close to Damascus, where it was used against fighters the first time. A French journalist brought samples from the hair and from the sand to prove it, that was what the laboratories wanted. And there was proof that sarin gas was used for the first time.
Before, they used a few substances in Homs, where the Red Cross said that some of the people who were burned, they couldn’t deal with their injuries. Was it chemical or not chemical? There was a debate about it. But in May 2013, clearly it was used in small doses in Jobar; before the 21st of August when the massive attack with sarin gas targeted the two Ghouta of Damascus, the two large neighbourhoods not far from the capital, where more than 1400 people died in a few hours during that attack.
So here it was clear that the red line was crossed on purpose, to test the US will or the Western will, during a moment of tension with Russia. Russia is supporting the régime, for different reasons, but is not yet involved directly.
And what happened after it, the red line was crossed? Nothing, in fact, once again. There will be a statement by Kerry, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, in which he said, following a meeting with Lavrov, that if the Syrian régime accepts to destroy, or to abandon its stock of chemical weapons to give it to a UN inspection mission, we’re fine with that. So it appeared as if once again, if I kill someone, and then I give you the gun, I’m fine.
These kind of messages are extremely dangerous when it comes to impunity, because the régime and the Russians understood through that offer, that there is no will in the US to go into an intervention against Assad, following the crossing the red line. They knew they cannot go to the UN of course, there would be a Russian veto. But in the American constitution, the President, as long as the military operation would not require deployment on the ground, as long as it is less than 60 (I think) days; the President can order a military operation, which did not happen.
In Britain, also, they voted in the Parliament, against it. In France, they were very hesitant about it. And then finally, the agreement was a UN resolution, that will impose on the régime, to abandon its chemical programme, and the stocks should be gathered by the UN inspection mission; and negotiations started about that. But the régime did prove, to its social bases, as well as to the Syrians and to those who are fighting him, I can even use chemical weapons, I can even cross the only red line that is set, and nothing will happen.
And that was a game-changer in the case of Syria, because it’s not a coincidence that following August 2013, Daesh (or ISIS) will start its rise. At the time, we are still in a moment where al-Qaeda in Iraq is itself in Syria. Nusra is part of it, but not very happy with it, so you have within the jihadist map rivalries and different interpretations of who should take the lead, and Baghdadi is still in Iraq. And after 2013, with a certain consensus maybe among the Syrians, that no one is going to intervene to save them from Assad; this is the beginning of the rise of the two nihilist groups, of the two jihadist groups, Nusra and ISIS. ISIS is not always the exact translation, because it’s the Levant or al-Sham at the end.
But this is a crucial moment in that sense, and this is also the beginning of the massive departure from Syria. Hundreds of thousands of Syrians reached Turkey and Jordan and Lebanon, because once again, they felt totally abandoned and vulnerable and no one is going to intervene, whatever would happen, and whatever kind of weapons would be used against them.
And this is the fourth summer the summer of 2014. Baghdadi declares officially that he is now the Caliphate, and the Caliph, and the Caliphate is there, between parts of Iraq and Syria. He’s fighting mainly other jihadists, but also Islamist Syrian groups, because the extension of ISIS throughout the Syrian territory did not clash with the Syrian régime. They took over Deir Ezzor, then they took over Raqqa, all of the east of Syria that was already under the control of the Syrian opposition. So the expansion of Daesh weakened and fragilised the Syrian opposition, before clashing with the régime. And definitely the régime and the Iranians who were setting the strategy, were not unhappy with it. Because now the formula, and the equation, that Assad kept using in its propaganda, that against me we only have jihadists, we only have al-Qaeda, we only have Islamists who want to overthrow a secular progressive régime; all of that now, for Assad it’s a kind of prophecy that its propaganda used, and now he’s not far from realizing it, and talking more and more about it, which again is something that will change lots of approaches towards the Syrian situation.
US intervention against ISIS, exclusively against ISIS, started following that rise, because they killed American, and I think a British as well, humanitarian aid workers in Syria. So Obama declared war on ISIS. And this is the beginning of the US intervention.’
'Jamal Saeed sought refuge in Canada in 2016 after being imprisoned three times for a total of 12 years in his native Syria. Imprisoned for his political writing and his opposition to the régimes of the al-Assads, Saeed spent years in Syria's most notorious military prisons. My Road from Damascus, translated by Catherine Cobham, tells the story of his life as he chronicles the sociopolitical landscape in Syria since the 1950s and his hope for the future.
As the steel door swung open, seven soldiers, all shouting orders and obscenities, rushed into our cold, dark prison cell.
"Faces to the wall, you sons of bitches," they screamed at the three of us. "Hands behind your backs, animals."
"Lower your shit-filled heads and shut your eyes, bastards!"
I knew from the 12 years I'd spent in half a dozen Syrian prisons that the presence of many soldiers meant that one, or perhaps all of us, were about to be taken to meet an important army officer. They bound our hands, covered our eyes, and roughly stuffed cotton wool in our ears to make sure we couldn't hear what was being said unless they wanted us to. Suddenly, I was being dragged along the floor, pulled tripping up a flight of stairs, then jerked to a stop. The cotton wool was yanked from my ears, and I heard what I assumed was an officer's voice.
"What did you do after you got out of prison, Jamal?" he asked quietly. "The first time..."
"Was there a second time?" came the voice, detached from its body. "They detained me a month ago."
"Do you call that being detained? You didn't even spend a week with us, not even enough time to warm the floor under your ass. The important thing is, Jamal, what did you do after you left us?"
"I helped my family on the farm and then came to Damascus at the beginning of winter to carry on with my university studies."
"I'll make it easier for you, you piece of shit," he said, his tone changing. "What was the printing you did?"
"Some designs for silk-screen printing in the Faihaa printing works. I still design for them and get paid by the piece."
"What kind of designs do you do?" "Butterflies... birds, flowers, fruit."
"You're lying, you son of a whore!"
"Your mother is no better than mine," I answered boldly. "There's no need for street language."
At this point he went wild and began to shout like a maniac. "Take this insolent bastard away. Execute him. We 've got seventeen million people in Syria. We don't need this dog."
I raised my head and said clearly, "I am not a dog."
He repeated his order, his voice almost hoarse from the strain. "Take him away. Execute him at once. We don't need these sons of whores." I thought of saying something but made do with a scornful smile. "You shit!" he shouted. "Are you laughing at me? I swear to Allah, I'll make dog food of you! Take him away!"
This wasn't the first time I'd received abuse from an officer or been accused of treason because I'd helped print or distribute political leaflets. But, on this occasion, I wasn't protecting anyone by suffering torture and abuse. I didn't have anything to confess. I was genuinely busy with my studies and earning enough to survive. I wasn't lying.
A soldier took hold of my arm and dragged me down more stairs to what I imagined was the interrogation room, the place where my life was to end. He left me standing alone, expecting the inevitable. And then I heard the door lock, and it became very silent.
Suddenly, my memory released a host of images and smells — things from the past that felt so real I forgot I was about to die. Maybe this illogical response to what should have been a terrifying situation was a manifestation of the awful despair that had set in the moment I was once again arrested.
I pictured the line that the rubber tube had made on my forehead. I'd seen this mark on the heads of many after they returned to their cell after interrogation, if they did return. As I waited alone in a locked room for my death sentence to be carried out, scenes from the past continued to follow one after another with amazing clarity. I could almost touch the white lace collar and sleeves of Barbara's red dress. At five years old, I was fascinated by the elegance of Barbara, the youngest daughter of the asphalt quarry manager. I scratched my back with my bound hands. It's as if the barbed wire I'd crawled under to meet Barbara more than a quarter of a century earlier is again scratching my back. My mother used to smile when she saw us together, Barbara and me, and point out I was three months older than her to the day. I see my mother's expression when I was released for the first time after my prolonged absence of about eleven years. I revel in the flood of joy that made her walk around the house in a daze, turning back to hug me again the instant she left, saying a few more words, her brief utterances dominating all other sounds, clear and warm: "My heart was lying at the crossroads, waiting for your footsteps, and now you've returned my heart has returned to my chest," and "The hard waiting is over," and "Thank Allah we're no longer behind bars," speaking as if she had just come out of prison too. She pulls me to her, and I smell her scent and feel the heat of the tears falling on my face. Later I see the gleam of delight in her eyes as she welcomes the neighbors who have flocked to congratulate us on my release. They crowd around to see whether I am still like other people, if I can talk and see and hear, and if I still have five fingers on each hand after my long spell of incarceration. I can tell from the looks in their eyes and the questions they asked me that they are keen to investigate the impact of prison on my mind and body. Some are not afraid to blame me and call me stupid, believing I've damaged both myself and my family. I can see the effect of the passing years on them. Gray hair, wrinkles, baldness, and fat bellies prevented me from recognizing a few of the old ones, and recognizing the young ones, whom I've not seen since they were children, is even more difficult.
Waiting to be executed, I remember as clearly as if I could see them, many of the other people I'd known in different Syrian towns: children, men, and women, old and young; relatives, friends, and those who'd shared in the painful experiences of prison; interrogators out of control in the interrogation branch in Latakia; doomsday in cellblock seven in the military's special investigation branch in Damascus; prisoners of conscience, murderers, thieves, drug dealers, cats, rats, and police in al-Qala'a prison; bodies exhausted by fear, faces distorted by terror, souls brutalized by humiliation in Tadmur prison. The faces of women I'd loved and cried over when they left, and those of the ones who loved me and who cried when I left. Informers for the intelligence services who visited me diligently after my release on the pretext of asking after my health. A great gathering of people, birds, beasts, with their features crystal clear; springs, rivers, different places by the sea, rough tracks, paved roads, and even familiar rocky outcrops. I am completely absorbed by this throng of images, smells, and the sounds my memory yields, sharper and more delicate than I would have believed possible, and in that moment I really forget where I am. I don't think about how my brazen answers to the officer had just slammed the door on my future.
I am devouring life avidly as if it only existed in the past when the door of the interrogation room opens and footsteps approach. I brace myself for the end, but nothing. If only I could move my hand, I would pull the blind- fold away from my eyes. Has the soldier who entered the room changed his mind and left again? Or is he standing close to me this very second? I picture the room full of instruments of torture: an old tire, electric cables, clubs, a German chair, water, and a packet of pins on the metal table where the interrogator usually sat. Big strong torturers no more than twenty-five years old will show up at any moment.'
'In early October, a suicide drone ripped through a graduation ceremony at a military academy in Homs, Syria, killing and injuring dozens of civilians and cadets while delivering an equally devastating blow to the psyche of the Syrian régime and its embattled leader, President Bashar al-Assad.
Although no group took responsibility for the Oct. 5 attack, the Syrian army, without providing details, blamed the incident on “terrorist groups” in the northwest of the country, backed by “known international forces,” meaning the West, led by the United States.
Since 2017, northwest Syria has been loosely governed by the anti-régime Syrian Salvation Government, the administrative arm of Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), a “political and militant group” mainly operating in Syria’s Greater Idlib area. It is primarily populated by civilians who have been displaced, some more than once, by the civil war that began in 2011. Currently, the Turkish military, which is allied with Syrian opposition groups, has a presence there. The Turks say they are guaranteeing a cease-fire that was established in 2017. However, when I asked Syrians in Idlib why they think Türkiye has troops in the area, they said, “It’s complicated.”
On Oct. 5, as the blood-soaked bodies piled up in Homs and the Assad régime launched its response to the attack, I was on the ground in Idlib, a rebel-held city located a mere two-hours’ drive north of Homs.
What was meant to be a nine-day reporting trip in northwest Syria, shadowing a group of doctors (including a cardiologist, hand surgeon and pulmonary, emergency care and family medicine experts) on a medical mission arranged by the nonprofit MedGlobal group, was abruptly cut short when we were swiftly evacuated from Idlib back to the Turkish border, as the Assad government unleashed an aggressive military campaign on Idlib city and surrounding areas, targeting schools and hospitals, killing and injuring dozens of innocent civilians.
Although weeks have passed since the drone attack in Homs, the Assad régime, aided by its ally Russia, continues to bomb the northwest with barely a whisper of outrage from the international community, partly due to the world shifting its attention to the brutal war and humanitarian crisis unfolding in Gaza at the hands of the Israel Defense Forces since Hamas massacred approximately 1,400 people in Israel on Oct. 7.
According to the White Helmets, a nonprofit organization that provides rescue and humanitarian assistance to people impacted by conflict and natural disasters in northwest Syria, its teams responded from Oct. 1 to Oct. 26 to more than “250 attacks on 70 cities and towns in the northwestern regions of Syria,” which left more than 250 civilians injured and more than 65 dead, including more than 20 children and 10 women.
Here, I share some of my reporting — including recorded interviews with Syrians living in internally displaced camps, field notes and snippets from a few casual conversations — during my abbreviated reporting trip to Idlib.
Around 9 A.M., after a quick breakfast of steamy sweet tea and fresh bread smeared with za’atar spices and olive oil, we drive north from our hotel in Idlib’s city center and near the Idlib Health Directorate, the health care supervisor in Idlib governorate, to the al-Wifak camp to visit a mobile health clinic, where more than 1,300 displaced civilians live in tents and concrete block houses. With us in the van is a local Syrian journalist and his colleague, a translator, who jokes that instead of going to the camp, we’re going to cross the border into régime territory. I laugh and ask the translator, sitting to my left in a white polo shirt and jeans whose left eye is swollen and freshly blackened from a recent soccer game, what would happen if we tried to enter régime territory. Without hesitating, he turns to me and says flatly, “We’d be slaughtered.”
Shortly after arriving at the camp, I meet Khaled Mustafa Abu Hasna, 70, and his wife, Ayoush Mohammad Mughlag, also 70 years old. They tell me they have been married for 55 years and have 14 children, 3 boys and 11 girls. The war drove them from their village in Syria in 2019, and they’ve been living in al-Wifak in a massive tent ever since. Their children, now adults with families of their own, fled the war and relocated to Lebanon and Türkiye.
In 2013, their son Ahmad was arrested by the Syrian régime in Damascus, Syria’s capital, and the family still knows nothing of his fate. They think he could be alive in one of Syria’s notorious military prisons, or dead, possibly tortured and killed by the régime. Khaled Hasna tells me that he suffered a stroke the day Ahmad was arrested and hasn’t been able to move his left arm or leg in years. He relies heavily on Ayoush, his wife, who carefully massages his left foot as we talk.
One of their grandsons, a toddler, is rolling around on a rug nearby, watching an episode of the famous Western cartoon series “The Smurfs,” on a mounted television — Internet in some camps is available for a fee — while their granddaughter Aya, 15, sits quietly in a corner. I notice her vibrant green eyes, perfectly framed by her hijab, and ask the translator, Aisha, to say hello for me. Aya’s father was shot dead by the régime in front of his father-in-law, Khaled, years ago. Since moving to the camp with her grandparents, Aya, an only child, hasn’t attended school and is unlikely to return under the current circumstances.
Camps for internally displaced people in northwest Syria are serviced by a hodgepodge network of global humanitarian organizations, including the UN, which works through local partners, focusing foremost on providing civilians with shelter, food and sanitation. With limited resources in some camps, education gets overlooked. Before we leave, I ask Aya, who likes to paint, if she has any dreams, and she says no. “The war destroyed everything,” she say in Arabic, “all the dreams.”
Al Fan Alshemali camp is a short drive from al-Wifak. It’s home to approximately 2,600 internally displaced civilians. According to the Camp Coordination and Camp Management cluster, an agency that “supports people affected by natural disasters and internally displaced people (IDPs) affected by conflict,” there are more than 1,500 camps of various sizes for internally displaced people in northwest Syria.
As we arrive, we see a group of women and fidgety toddlers waiting outside the camp’s mobile health clinic: a stout, grubby cement-block building baking in sunlight and stocked inside with a table and two chairs. The group is there to see the pediatrician, a retired doctor from California volunteering with MedGlobal. Standing outside the cement block, I hear him inside treating countless sore throats, prescribing medications and checking for signs of malnutrition. Later, the doctor tells me that sore throats are common in camps as the air inside the tents tends to be dry. He said that if the parents smoked inside the tent or burned wood, it worsens the conditions.
Meanwhile, the waiting women, dressed in black niqabs, a veil that covers the entire face except for a horizontal slit for the eyes, don’t want to be interviewed. However, Aisha, the translator who is provided through MedGlobal, is eager to share information about herself.
Petite and soft-spoken, Aisha, 27, lives with her mother and six-year-old son, Yaser, in another camp. They fled their village, which is south of Idlib city, in 2019, when the bombings escalated. Aisha, who says she’s divorced, now lives in Sarmada city, a camp 120 kilometers, or 75 miles, north of Idlib city.
“When I was displaced, I was in my third year at the University of Idlib, but I didn’t give up,” Aisha said, “and I graduated this year from the English department in faculty of literature.” Aisha tells me that girls like Aya, whose dreams have been destroyed by the war, make her sad.
“I remember myself when I was displaced and I lost any hope to live and continue my study,” Aisha said. “So, yeah, I feel sad about it but I have a dream . . . to continue and continue and arrive.”
As for her son’s future, Aisha said there’s nothing for him in Syria. “We have no options in our lives here. I feel that we are living in a prison,” she says. “For me, I wish that I leave this area and travel to any country that I feel I’m human in it.”
We return to Idlib city and the health directorate, where we are lodging, around 6:30 P.M. After dinner, I take a quick walk around the city center with Aisha — who kindly helps me pick up a cotton cap to wear under my hijab — where drivers on motorcycles whip through the streets, pedestrians crowd fruit carts and the neon signs hanging above the spice shops and bakeries splash pops of color across the sidewalks. The city and its people are alive. But at any moment, it could all go black.
Dr. Ahmed Ghandour is a surgeon and the general manager of the al-Rahma Hospital in Darkush, a city roughly 55 kilometers, or 34 miles, west of Idlib city. He studied medicine at Aleppo University in Syria and graduated in 2009 before the régime began its lethal crackdown in 2011.
Dr. Ghandour, dressed in faded green hospital scrubs, says he was arrested, like countless other Syrians, by régime military forces who converted public hospitals and schools into prisons.
“After my release from Aleppo in 2012, I insist to convert every place which the régime [is] using as a prison to kill the people and torture them [and] I insist to convert every place to [a] hospital to a place for relief for them,” Dr. Ghandour says.
Later, after a tour of the hospital, including its outpatient clinic and dialysis center, I sit outside with Dr. Ghandour, who admits he is worried about the future of medicine in northwest Syria. The civil war has caused medical professionals and students to leave the country in droves to practice in Europe. It’s an option that Dr. Ghandour says he has considered. “But I can’t leave my country,” he adds. “We have to prepare the new medical generation . . . we need them.”
A report from the International Rescue Committee, a nongovernmental organization based in New York City, published estimates in 2021 saying that in Syria, “70 percent of the medical workforce has fled the country.”
“When I started, I was young, but now I’m 46 years. Maybe [in] 10 years I will stop,” Dr. Ghandour says. “And if I don’t achieve my dreams maybe my son one day will come and complete my way.”
I am back in my room at the health directorate when, at 8:07 P.M., a flurry of text messages begins popping up in our WhatsApp group chat. The first one says, “Please all come to the basement,” followed by, “Only bring your passport and phones,” and then, “No more social media posts.”
If I had had Internet access there, which is hard to come by in Idlib, I would have known about the suicide drone attack in Homs earlier that day. Still, it wasn’t until we are all huddled in the basement and as the thuds from the falling bombs grow closer and the sounds of ambulances screeching past the directorate grow louder, when I realize the Syrian régime is responding to the Homs massacre.
Soon after, we learn that the medical mission is canceled and that we have to leave Idlib city at 6:30 A.M. the next day.
There are at least 20 of us in the basement waiting out the bombs, including members of the MedGlobal team and employees of the directorate. The room is filled with chatter as if we are one big group waiting to be seated at a fancy restaurant.
For many of the people around me, however, this day is like any other. They have made peace with the uncertainty of their circumstances. For civilians living in this part of Syria, who have been enduring conflict for more than 12 years, they have no other choice but to keep living there.
Standing to my left are two men in their mid-30s, whom I have not seen before. They’re talking to the hand surgeon, Dr. Ebrahim Paryavi, who works at the Alaska Native Medical Center in Anchorage and is volunteering for MedGlobal. Afterward, Dr. Paryavi tells me that when the two men from the area — who were scheduled to meet with him the next day — learned that the mission had been canceled, they drove to the directorate, despite the bombing, to consult him.
“They both have complicated hand injuries from the war,” Dr. Paryavi says. “One of them has significant nerve injury to his arm, and the other has a blast hand injury, and his thumb is mangled. He wanted to know if there’s anything we could do to improve his hand function. And so I talked to him about a flap procedure . . . and I told him I would do it in the next couple of days if we’re still here, but then we heard that we’re being evacuated tomorrow. He was pretty disappointed.”
Dr. Paryavi adds: “I’ve seen a lot of war-related injuries here. There are so many people with blast injuries to their arms . . . shrapnel injuries, explosive injuries to the arms from bombings. Just a lot more than I’ve ever seen in my career.”
The bombing slows and then stops around 10:30 P.M. Most of us leave the basement and head back to our rooms to try to sleep. Upstairs, someone has left a huge tray of freshly baked knafeh, a sweet, cheesy Middle Eastern dessert, in the common room. I think to myself, Who the hell went out to get that?
We make it back to Gaziantep in the afternoon, having left Idlib around 6:30 A.M. After I book my return flight to New York City, I text Aisha, the translator who is still in Idlib. I want to thank her for all her help and make sure she is O.K.
She replies: “I am good, and my family is good, but artillery shells are still falling on Idlib and its countryside, and we cannot get out safely. For my helping you during your job here is nothing. I just did my duty to the Syrian people. The Syrian people and I would like to thank you for coming to hear us to convey our suffering for the world.
I am sad towards what happened yesterday because it forces you to leave. . . . I wish to meet you here again.” '
Part diplomat-in-training, part legal campaigner, the 27-year-old Syrian spoke in Paris between meetings, flipping between his flawless French and native Arabic.
He smiled as he talked on the banks of the River Seine. But his journey here was far from happy.
He, his mother and siblings fled to France in August 2016, six years into the civil uprising against the brutal régime of President Bashar al-Assad. But his father, French-Syrian citizen Salah Abou Nabout, stayed in their home city of Daraa. He was killed in a barrel-bomb strike later that year.
Since then, Omar Abou Nabout has sought accountability over his father’s killing while forging a new life in France. Today that fight for justice took a step forward, as French investigative judges issued arrest warrants for four high-ranking Syrian generals in Abou Nabout’s case.
“It was exhausting, especially psychologically, we know the régime, but despite my fears I couldn’t be silent, and I will not be silent. This is a right for my father, and for Syrians,” he told CNN of his efforts.
Legal cases have been filed against the Syrian régime before. Last year a German court sentenced a former Syrian army colonel to life in prison, in the first trial of a high-ranking régime official for torture carried out under the Assad régime.
This case, however, is the first brought against senior members of the Syrian government for alleged complicity in war crimes in a military operation. It’s the first that directly indicts four Syrian military officials, including two former defense ministers.
And it’s the first time that arrest warrants have been issued over the use of barrel bombs, crude devices made by filling oil drums, fuel tanks or gas cylinders with explosives and shrapnel. The Syrian régime used them extensively, and indiscriminately, in densely populated areas at the height of the war, which was considered a form of prohibited indiscriminate attack under international humanitarian law.
The indictments are the result of a years-long investigation by French prosecutors, aided by Abou Nabout and a human rights-focused non-governmental group.
Abou Nabout’s case dates to June 2017. His father, Salah, was politically active in his youth and, although his son says that by the time the revolution rolled around he had given up on politics, he was still jailed for more than two years in the early days of the Syrian uprising. When his wife and children fled Syria in August 2016, Salah was unable to leave.
He allowed an education NGO to use his three-story home in Daraa city as a makeshift school. It was an old, rundown building, but artwork and motivational slogans peppered the walls. One, seen in a photo, read: “We need a little bit of thought to achieve great things. Think well.”
The southern Syrian province of Daraa was the scene of ferocious battles. It was recaptured by the Russian- and Iranian-backed Syrian government from rebel forces in 2018, but it was left looking apocalyptic. One year earlier, on June 7, as government bombs fell on the area of Tareek al-Sad, Salah’s building was hit. Children weren’t in class at the time. But Salah was there and lost his life in the blast.
The bombs in question were barrel bombs dropped from régime helicopters with devastating consequences. By their very nature, they are uncontrollable. An estimated 82,000 barrel bombs had been dropped in Syria as of April 2021, according to the Syrian Network for Human Rights, killing more than 11,000 people in the process.
The Syrian government has repeatedly insisted its strikes target “terrorists.”
When Omar Abou Nabout and his family sought refuge in France – where his father held a passport – they found the language and culture difficult to understand at first. But Abou Nabout went on to graduate from the country’s prestigious Sorbonne University, and now works with the French Foreign Ministry, with ambitions of becoming a diplomat.
Back then, his one link to his new country was his father. Following his death, as Abou Nabout put his energy into the pursuit of justice, Salah’s French citizenship gave France jurisdiction in the case.
“The past six years were tough, because it’s a new country,” Abou Nabout said. “We had to adapt first. I adapted and tried to mainly focus on the case and worked on my own at the start.”
Abou Nabout initially took his case to French prosecutors. It was later picked up by Mazen Darwish, a Syrian lawyer who leads the Syrian Center for Media and Freedom of Expression (SCM) – an NGO that started work in Syria and is now based in Paris.
The group has made a name for itself pursuing justice against both the Assad régime and Islamist extremist groups in Europe, earning Darwish a place on Time’s list of the most influential people for 2022. Last year, Darwish was instrumental in bringing the legal case that saw former Syrian army colonel Anwar Raslan sentenced to life in prison in Germany for crimes against humanity.
Darwish himself has experienced the brutal extremes of Syria’s incarceration system first-hand. In February 2012, Darwish was arrested with his wife and other staff at the NGO. He was accused of “promoting terrorist acts,” he says, and was tortured. After three and a half years in prison, he was released; the charges against him were later dropped.
Darwish moved to France, transferring the headquarters of SCM there in 2016. In 2020 he – along with the SCM – became involved in Omar’s case, assisting French investigators.
But building a case in a foreign country about a crime in another country, which itself is entrenched in a civil war, isn’t easy. By the time the investigation started, Daraa had come under government control, making access for French investigators difficult. The SCM offered support as a civil party, using its network to collect evidence when French investigators couldn’t; taking photos, collecting samples, and interviewing defectors to put together a chain of command in a painstaking 14-month process.
The decision by French investigative judges to now indict four high-ranking generals, including two of the country’s defense ministers, is a big step forward. “This is the first time the Syrian official army are being prosecuted,” Darwish said. “This is the first time we’re talking about the air force, the Syrian official army attacking schools and protected places.”
On the list of indictments are Fahed Jassem al-Fraij – at the time, he was the second-highest ranking military official after Bashar al-Assad and one-time defense minister.
Then there’s Ali Abdullah Ayoub – former chief of staff of the armed forces, and later defense minister. He was the third-highest ranking officer at the time of the attack.
Brigadier Ahmad Balloul, who commanded the Air Force at the time of the attack, and Brigadier Ali al-Safatli also both appear on the list.
Notably absent, however, is Bashar al-Assad, the Syrian president. “This is not because he’s not responsible,” Darwish said. “But because we are talking about local courts and presidents have immunity.” Assad would need to be tried through the International Criminal Court (ICC) in the Netherlands, he added. Syria is not a member of the court, so a case would have to be referred by the UN Security Council, where Russia, which supports Assad, has veto power.
The Syrian government has long been accused of war crimes, targeting schools and hospitals. It may deny targeting civilians, but Abou Nabout says the new indictments are a victory for him and others fighting impunity.
“It was my instinct to pursue justice for my father. I grew up during the revolution. I was part of it … I watched people die including friends,” Abou Nabout said. “I couldn’t stay silent when I could do something. I didn’t want the day to come when I’m older and would regret missing the opportunity.” '
‘It’s so nice to see what’s happening in Sweida right now. Unfortunately, the régime is playing on this narrative that it’s protecting minorities, and because it’s a minority itself, it’s going to have minorities’ interests at heart.
Right now, in 2023, they have been out for over a month and a bit, protesting every day, and they are saying the same chants that people went out with in 2011.
They’re being very loud, and prominent, and it’s beautiful to see once again. All these people together, and when it first started, there were protests all around the country. This just proves again and again, that even after all these years, and how the international community has failed us over and over again - they’ve put us on the burner, nobody is really talking about Syria, nobody has that up on their agenda - but they’ve proved that the people even inside of régime-held Syria, that are in Sweida, that are in the coast, that are in Daraa; all of those people, all of that, do not want to live under this dictatorship. Do not want to live under these economic conditions that you are making $10 a month, you are making $15 a month, that simply cannot even get you groceries.
The living conditions in the régime-held areas are beyond what anyone can describe. Then when we go to Idlib, it’s crazy, because we see all these people, trying with the normalisation that’s taking place, trying to paint Damascus as a beautiful, wonderful, party scene, and people are coming out and Damascus is back to safety, and you guys should come visit.
But it’s not that, and the war is still happening, and people are still getting bombed every single day. SETF have an app called SyriaWatch, which you can download off the App Store, and you get updates of every single attack that takes place. And this last week has been busy for that team. Every couple of hours.
There was a thing that happened with Homs, and now they are blaming it on the Northwest, and these groups, on these people of Idlib. And they’re bombing them, and over 40 people, 50 people, have passed away. Nobody is talking about it, unfortunately, so we need to be that voice. We need to be more and more, even if it’s on the back burner, even if no one is discussing this any more, we need be the ones to do this, and bring their voice to the rest of the world.
So I hope that all of us can see what’s happening in Syria, and support it. And see what’s happening in Idlib, and be a witness to it.’
Dr. Aula Abbara:
‘What’s remarkable about Sweida is that women are very much on the forefront of these protests and the organisation. I think, for us, it’s very important, because it doesn’t tie in to the narrative, that I often have with people external to Syria, who think women are silent. Whereas women are the strongest advocates, we just have to look at Celine, in particular, to know that.
We have spoken about the northwest. It’s always important to remember, we’re not trying to fragment the country, but we need to be realistic when we talk about health systems, and the political determinants across the country.
The situation in the northeast of Syria is desperate. In areas under government control it is also desperate. I met doctors from Sulaymaniyah about a week ago, and they get in the region of thirty to forty dollars a month, and they don’t make it from week to week in order to feed their families.
And many of us still have families in these areas, because they’re areas that were retaken by the government. And for us as Syrians, it is important to remember our shared humanity, and not to be divided; but, of course, never to forget the injustices that have occurred.'
Dr. Mohammad al-Hadj Ali:
‘I’m optimistic by nature, but this is based on facts. Which is, the Syrian people, as we saw in Sweida, as we see in Idlib despite all calamities, despite all casualties, despite all of what happens there over years and years. After twelve years, we still see a strong, solid foundation for that hope, for that optimism.
It is not a fake hope. When people dare to be out in the streets, thinking of our future, and thinking about a better Syria. We never knew that we’d be in the diaspora for a long time, and we’re going to miss our beloved people and family members, and all that stuff. But we still have the hope, that we’re going to rebuild it again.
All my hope, when I was resident at Aleppo University Hospital, and I was doing my specialty in diabetic endocrinology before I came here to do my PhD; all my hope, I was looking at a place in the campus of Aleppo University, which is very much close to Aleppo University Hospital. I’m reminded at that time, that there were three or four rooms, very much attached to the hospital, they’d had been occupied by the intelligence forces, over years. They’d been part of the hospital, taken over.
My idea at that time, was that I would go back at some point, and establish what I’d call the Aleppo University Diabetes and Endocrinology Centre. So that was my dream. I don’t know why I pinpointed on that place, but I always thought, why they took it from the campus? There is no need for their existence in that place, among the civilians.
And I thought, one day, even if I return to academia, I’ll return to see that place as a nice, academic place, research and for training people in diabetes and endocrinology.
I had an emotional chat last week, with my cousin. And I had to hide the fact from him, that when I came to the UK for the first time, I started reading everything forbidden inside Syria. I was in a city where there was no Syrian diaspora at all, I started my journey in Syria.
And I came across a document, naming people who’d been killed in the Tadmor massacre, and buried alive. And that was the first story where they had the big bulldozers in the desert, buried them, and that was the story. And I spent nights looking through this story, done by the Syrian Human Rights Committee. I reached after 1500 names, the name of the husband of my auntie.
I saw his name, and we’d always been told, that he’d disappeared, and he was taken, but nobody knew his fate. And every time we asked about his fate, they say, don’t ask about it, next time, don’t think about this name any more. Right, can we get a death certificate for him, because there’s inheritance to sort out here? No, we can’t give you a death certificate for him. Is he alive then? Nobody would answer that question. I know that fact.
On one of my visits to Syria before the revolution, before I was banned then for protesting, I can’t go back until that régime falls; I say that to my mum and dad. Should I share that with my auntie, who passed away later? Should I share that with her? They said to me, if you say anything, it will be like a big trauma in the family. Just keep it quiet, and leave the woman alone.
I had a chat with my cousin last week, and it was very emotional. I said to him, that’s the story, this is your dad, and that’s the details, after all the long period of time. He said to me, three months ago, I was in the middle of my sleep. I woke up with the nightmare, of my dad saying to me, why don’t you come to my grave in Tadmor, and make fatiha for me? Why don’t you come and visit my grave?
I call my brother, and my brother say to me, this is ridiculous. They told us it’s a safe area, he’s somewhere else, and that was a fact. I say no, this is what has been documented ages ago.
So I wanted to just go back to that trauma, and that flashback. Because in my conversation with him, he was a bit pessimistic. I said to him, look, the blood of your dad, won’t be wasted. And the blood of many of our people, won’t be wasted. And all those dead detainees won’t be wasted. I know the suffering, the struggle, of children, who are out of school, or are forced to be displaced to other countries; all that calamity and struggle won’t be wasted.
There will be one day we will come for justice. And one day there will be accountability. And one day we will build a better future for Syria. Even if we are a diaspora now, this is our beloved country, and we will never leave Syria alone. We will always be attached to our beloved country, and we will continue, and this lovely audience tonight is a big push , and a big inspiration, that the march is going to continue, for a better future for Syria.’
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