Is Daraa about to become another of Assad's atrocities?

 

  Sam Hamad:

 'It's with characteristic savagery that the Assad régime, bolstered by Iranian forces, attempts to finally conquer Daraa, the area considered by many to be the birthplace of Syria's 11-year-old revolution.

 Unlike other areas of Syria liberated by the rebels only to be militarily conquered by Assad, Iran and Russia, Daraa was to be different. Russia, sensing an opportunity to become the major hegemonic power in the Middle East, decided that liberated Daraa would be spared the typical brutality that had been visited upon other rebel-held areas it had helped the Assad régime to conquer.

 But in contrast to the role of Russia as the imperialistic pacifier of the rebellious people, the ceasefire deal in Daraa was supposed to showcase its other role - its role as the coloniser; as capable of providing 'reconciliation' and stability as it was of destruction. And so Russia thought of its grand colonial vision of 'reconstruction', which really meant Russia becoming the imperialist suzerain over what's left of Syria.

 In Russia's vision for Syria, the financial and geopolitical exploitation of the country for decades to come provides it with all kinds of money-spinning ventures bringing in investment from Russia's allies, and the ever-more Assad-friendly Gulf states and Arab League. This in turn could prompt ideological allies among the EU and western world to get in on the 'scramble for Syria' somewhere along the way.



 But underpinning all of this, was proving to the region and the world that there was stability in Syria - Israel would ramp up attacks on Iranian forces close to its border, while Jordan wants to avoid more refugees adding to the 700,000 Syrians it already hosts, or the destabilisation of its southern border. The Daraa deal was supposed to, in the face of the US retreat, announce that Russia was now the main guarantor of stability in the region.

 That's why Russia did not allow the same genocidal fate of Aleppo and Homs to befall Daraa when the pro-régime forces looked to conquer it in 2018. It's now clear to everyone that Russia is the guarantor of very little in Syria, and that the foundations of the deal were always built of sand. Assad-Iran only grudgingly supported it, with the expectation that the ceasefire was merely a means to pave the way for their total conquest of Daraa.

 Under the 2018 deal, the province was to be split in two: the eastern side, fully occupied by the Assad régime, and the western side, including Daraa City, was to be put under semi-autonomous control of rebel forces and civilian revolutionary forces, forming elected Central Committees representing different areas of the semi-autonomous zone.

 The régime would take over the running of social provisions, and the rebels would hand over heavy weaponry and be incorporated into the Russian-created 'Fifth Corps' of the Syrian Arab Army, which would work with Russia to police the area, denying Assad and Iran any military access.



 Since the deal was struck, Assad has probed for ways to tear it apart. With economic collapse in Assad's kleptocratic rump state putting Syrians at threat of mass starvation, Daraa has become a natural hotbed of resistance and protest. The fact it operates with elected central committees and with essential autonomy has made it antithetical to the régime, especially if it provides an incentive to other suffering Syrians.

 When the autonomous province decided to boycott the absurd fixed presidential election earlier this year that saw the Syrian dictator returned to power with 95% of the vote, Assad began a brutal siege on Daraa.

 The siege then turned into an all-out offensive, with Assad shelling civilian areas, leading to over 90 deaths, including women and children. Eighty percent of the population have been 'evacuated', while Daraa al-Balad, the name for the southern part of Daraa city, is now completely besieged and its residents face starvation.

 To anyone who has paid attention to Syria's civil war, these genocidal tactics are all too familiar. But so far, they're missing the Russian ingredient that could be decisive. The rebels have managed to put up fierce resistance and have on many occasions got the better of the régime - without Russian airpower, régime forces remain vulnerable.

 Russia's attempts to create what we're supposed to believe could be a lasting ceasefire within a ceasefire would be comical were it not for the scale of the tragedy at stake. Though Russian intervention assured Assad's military success, in reality, Russia finds itself increasingly overstretched in the country; it has not carved stability out of Assad's parochial ultra-corrupt rump state and Iran's often quite divergent interests.

 Iran rules on the ground and has the most control over Assad, given many of its Revolutionary Guard forces and proxy militias give the régime much needed manpower. As we've seen during this conflict in Daraa, Iran is actively undermining Russian 'peace' negotiations with the central committees, indicating it wants to prompt a total conquest of the region.




 It could be that Russia concedes and decides there is more to be gained from the destruction of Daraa than there is to allow it to remain alive in peace.

 Or it could be that Russia secures another fragile 'peace', but for how long? The conditions that led to the confrontation aren't simply going to disappear. The Assad régime isn't suddenly going to become a force for peace, and the people of Daraa are not going to willingly surrender their liberty.

 Though the world ought to care about the people of Daraa, the reality is that their fate lies in the hands of forces that have pursued a war of extermination against Syrians with vicious gusto. The usual superficial condemnations from the US and international community aside, there will be scant outrage if Daraa becomes yet another of the atrocities carried out by Assad that litter Syria's recent history.'

Why do so many in régime-controlled areas feel unsafe?

 

 'A recent survey shows widespread insecurity among Syrians living in the Assad régime-controlled territories.

 Syrian régime leader Bashar al Assad won a landslide election victory in May by claiming 95 percent of Syrian votes to clinch his 4th presidential term. The elections were seen as rigged by most democratic governments and credible election monitors across the world.

 But inside Syria, anger and desperation are brewing against the Assad régime, a new study conducted by Syrian Association for Citizens’ Dignity (SACD) shows.

 The SACD is a civil rights group established by Syrian refugees who live in various countries such as Saudi Arabia, Lebanon, Turkey and Jordan. At least 75 percent of respondents to its latest survey are “dissatisfied with the régime’s behaviour.”

 The study was conducted through interviews with more than 500 people living in régime-controlled territories across Syria. The Syrian régime controls approximately 60 percent of the country while the US-backed YPG, which is part of the PKK terror group, rules much of northeastern Syria. Idlib, a northwestern province, is still controlled by the Syrian opposition.



 The Assad régime portrays itself as the safest option, a force that could bring political stability and public order in a country where terror groups like Al Qaeda, Daesh and the YPG have run amok. But the SARC study provides a profoundly different account.

 “Some 50 per cent of people in the Assad-controlled areas don't feel safe, including those who never left; 67 per cent of returnees from outside Syria don’t feel safe, and those in the reconciliation areas fear the worst with 94 percent saying they don’t feel safe,” the SARC survey noted.

 It’s significant that even half of the people, many of whom have often been considered Assad loyalists and continued to live under the Assad régime despite its atrocities, feel insecure under the rule of Damascus. “This shows that it is important not to equate those who remained living in Assad's areas of Syria, which people may do for any number of reasons, with loyalty or approval,” the report noted.



 The SARC report revealed that returnees feel even more insecure than people who always stayed under the régime's rule. That aspect has long been a major factor to make many Syrian refugees reluctant to return to their home country.

 But people, who have been allowed to live in former opposition areas through “reconciliation deals”, feel more insecure than anyone else. Reconciliation deals have been conducted between Assad régime representatives and local mediators to ensure former opposition fighters will disarm and surrender.



 While the Assad régime claims to have normalised areas controlled by Damascus, evidence collected by various independent bodies shows that it has been used as a political tactic to tighten the régime's control over people.

 Despite the reconciliation deals, a lot of people, who were part of the process, were not only continuously targeted by the régime, but also subjected to arbitrary arrests and other inhumane treatment, according to many studies.

 The SARC report also confirms it.

 “Campaigns of arrest and enforced disappearance are still ongoing, including against those covered by 'reconciliation agreements' and those who have been included in régime-issued amnesty, which highlights a lack of any kind of security guarantee in Syria,” the report said.

 “19 per cent of those arrested were covered by amnesty while 26 percent were covered by 'reconciliation agreement'. The amnesty laws are almost illusory, used to falsely demonstrate goodwill without the real release of those detained for political reasons and do not represent a guarantee,” the SARC report pointed out.

 Many human rights defenders have long stated that without freedoms, there is no point to security. It’s also true that without security, people cannot exercise their freedoms. But in Syria, even the most loyal citizens lack both security and freedom stuck between a brutal régime and armed groups raging across the country, according to the SARC report.

 For general security, the report indicates that across Syria “there are no safe areas, with some of the more practical safety parameters showing that security is poor everywhere” due to the security policies of the Assad régime.

 But for freedoms, the war-torn country is “a cemetery” according to the report: “78 percent of people in Assad-controlled areas think they do not have freedom of expression, while 85 per cent think that their right to participate in peaceful demonstrations is not protected.”

 “Those who are dissatisfied have no way to express it,” it added.



 The Syrian conflict has also created perfect conditions for corruption, carried out by both the régime and armed groups. Exploiting the absence of any real security and the rule of law, régime representatives have used their positions to extort money from ordinary people, according to the SARC report.

 A fledgling economy and widespread corruption across Syria have allowed the régime’s security forces “to intensify the use of arbitrary arrest and forced disappearance as tools of making extra money through extortion” from people who are desperate to secure their loved ones’ release or some information on their whereabouts, according to the report.

 “The heads of the security branches make the amnesty law a source of theft. The name of the person who pays more is written on the amnesty lists even though he is detained by mistake or often for no reason,” said one of the respondents to the survey.

 Even worse, corruption levels in Syria, when compared to previous years, have increased alarmingly last year, the report said.

“54 percent of respondents see that there were very high corruption rates in 2020 compared to 39 percent in 2019, up from 20 percent in 2011, meaning the perception of corruption jumped massively in the last year alone,” the SARC study reported.

 The increasing menace of corruption is one of the main reasons why Syrians who were largely subdued by the régime are unable to trust the country’s justice system.

 “48 percent of respondents said that they do not have access to the judicial system to tackle corruption issues. 59 per cent of respondents said they need to pay bribes to obtain their citizenship rights, such as obtaining documents or securing government permissions,” the report said.'

Will Daraa be the beginning of the end for Assad?

 

 'After ten long years, Syria is back in the news. Although this is likely to be fleeting, as the international community has long experienced conflict fatigue with regards to Syria, it is another opportunity to focus on the terrible situation there. In a world afflicted with the ongoing pandemic, it is at times understandable for stories and situations to fall out of the public gaze, but Syria has done so far too often, even after atrocities.

 In recent days, the Assad régime and its Iranian allies have been attacking Daraa in southern Syria relentlessly; civilians have been killed. The courage of the people of Daraa, who have been demonstrating against Assad's fake election in May, is clear to see. They have essentially spoiled the victory for Assad. His artillery shelling of Daraa in retaliation is being led by his brother, Maher Al-Assad, whose troops are known as the 4th Armoured Division and are notorious for their ruthlessness.

 Whilst Maher Al-Assad being involved in offensives is no real surprise, the fact is that there is meant to be a de-escalation agreement in place in Syria which covers various zones around the country, including the Daraa province. This offensive has not been a success for the régime; it has incurred losses over the past few days as it lacked Russian air support, proving how crucial Russia is for Assad.

 These de-escalation zones were agreed to by the Assad régime at the conclusion of the Astana peace process in 2017, brokered by Russia, Iran and Turkey. The dominance of states friendly to the régime — Russia and Iran — guaranteed an outcome that was more amenable to Assad and did not demand régime change, which the process should have done. Despite this, the régime cannot abide by the agreed zones. This is the absolute minimum that Assad should be doing, but the arrogance and feeling of infallibility is so ingrained within him that he thinks he can take orders from no one. The irony is that if it wasn't for Russia's intervention in the summer of 2015, the Assad régime would probably have collapsed.



 It has been said that Assad was concerned about the outcome of the recent meeting between Russia's Vladimir Putin and US President Joe Biden, but it seems that the Syrian dictator has forgotten his position within this power dynamic. He is not Russia's benefactor; it is the other way around. Russia's neo imperialism in Syria will not be forgotten any time soon, and its actions in Syria — bombing hospitals despite knowing their coordinates, for example — constitute war crimes. It is unknown exactly what Biden and Putin discussed, but it is unlikely that Syria would have been top of the agenda, which means that Russian impunity is likely to continue.

 Ultimately, talk of "reconstruction" and the return of Syrian refugees cannot be serious whilst the war is ongoing and blood is still being shed. A ceasefire is an absolute minimum requirement before even talking about reconstruction, but the régime feels that it is above this as Gulf States want to re-establish diplomatic relations with Damascus. Reconstruction should not even be on the agenda as long as Assad is president; how can the arsonist become the fireman?

 Nevertheless, there are concerns that King Abdullah of Jordan – the first Arab ruler to make clear that Assad should step down — has been pushing Biden to build a road map to restore Syria's "sovereignty and unity" without opposing the idea of Assad staying in power. Jordan's main concerns are restoring customs agreements with Syria and Lebanon as their trade convoys generally pass through Jordan on the way to Saudi Arabia, as well as repatriating refugees to Syria. Any mention of sovereignty is meaningless with Russian and Iranian encroachment over the past decade. It is also worth mentioning that Jordan was part of the Military Operation Centre (MOC) led by the Americans to control military activities in southern Syria and ensure that no unknown groups were threatening the border between Syria and the Israeli-occupied Syrian Golan Heights.

 Assad feels that the wind is blowing in his favour. The Covid-19 pandemic means that most states are busy with their own health issues, and the regional aftermath of the Beirut explosion a year ago as well as the recent Israeli air strikes on Gaza have helped push Syria further down the agenda. As important as these issues are, the predicament of the Syrian people must not be forgotten, and reconstruction cannot take place under a ruler who is still fighting and has the blood of hundreds of thousands on his hands.

 As we witness the Syrian régime attacking Daraa, where events marked the start of the Syrian uprising against Assad in March 2011, will Daraa also be the beginning of the end for his régime? Although Assad is keen to stop the war in order to announce his victory and start reconstruction, the Syrian régime is struggling to provide basic daily needs for citizens, with corruption and misuse of resources rife. Furthermore, many voices are being heard in opposition to Assad, even in areas known to be very much pro-régime, such as Latakia. This is an ominous sign for him.

 Now we must wonder if the anger and demonstrations in Daraa against Assad will extend to other areas. The Syrian economy is struggling and the vast majority of Syrian people are living below the poverty line. This might not be clear, but it is obvious that Syrian refugees cannot return home whilst Assad is still in power and the Iranians are still occupying the country. The Syrian people also believe that Russia is part of the problem and not the solution; a state that has played such a crucial role in the destruction of Syria, cannot offer a remedy to its problems. The international community fails to understand this. Worse still, it apparently does not want to.'

‘Parents are dressing up their children to be buried’

 

 'Amid the rubble of bombed homes in Binnish, a town in north-western Syria, a brightly painted mural stands out. The image shows an intact house, with love hearts streaming from the windows. Overhead, however, the dark silhouettes of birds are accompanied by helicopters, warplanes and missiles, and the garden’s red and yellow flowers look like flames.

 The mural is the work of 13-year-old Hussein Sabbagh, who was eight when his family fled Bashar al-Assad’s attacks on Aleppo in 2016. Like millions of other Syrians, the Sabbaghs ended up in north-west Syria, the last pocket of the country that remains outside the régime’s control.

 The family tried to build a new life despite the fact that war still raged around them: for Hussein, there was respite in football, and helping local artist Aziz al-Asmar with his famous political murals. But the teenager’s dreams of being a painter ended last month when régime forces targeted a swimming pool in the town of Fua with artillery shelling. Hussein, along with his 17-year-old brother, 23-year-old uncle, and three more civilians, was killed.



 “Hussein was loved by everyone. He helped me in many of the murals I painted … He was talented and had such a beautiful imagination,” said Asmar. “There was one particular drawing that he loved to paint a lot, a house with love hearts … He wanted to say that these bombs kill love and destroy homes.”

 Hussein is one of 27 children who have been killed in régime attacks across north-west Syria in the past two months alone as Bashar al-Assad’s war of attrition takes its toll on the area’s youngest and most vulnerable residents. Seven school buildings have also been hit, adding to the régime’s ugly track record of targeting civilian infrastructure.

 “We have begun to notice a pattern in recent years, where the bombing gets worse on holidays like Eid,” said Laila Hasso, director of communication and advocacy for the locally run Hurras Network, a charity that works to protect children in Syria.

 “Thirteen children were killed in just three days. Now every time Eid comes we are afraid we will lose more children. Instead of giving them new clothes to dress up and celebrate, parents are dressing up their children to be buried.”



 North-west Syria is mostly ruled by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, or HTS, an Islamist group that seized control from other opposition factions in 2019. The area is supposedly protected by a ceasefire brokered by Turkey and Russia in March 2020, but the deal is routinely ignored and the area’s residents live in fear of the next wave of airstrikes.

 Around three-quarters of the estimated population of 3.5 million fled to the north-west to escape fighting in other parts of the country. Living conditions are dire and have worsened since last year’s collapse of the Syrian currency, which sent food prices soaring. A steady stream of aid cuts and the arrival of Covid-19 have also added to the hardships of daily life.

 The violence has escalated in the two weeks since the Eid al-Adha holiday began. Around the same time, Assad took the oath of office for a fourth seven-year term as president after winning 95% of the vote in May’s fraudulent election, vowing to make “liberating those parts of the homeland that still need to be” one of his top priorities.

 “The régime calls the people in north-west Syria terrorists. But the acts of terrorism are what the régime does, attacking civilians and schools,” said Hasso.

 “Sometimes parents ask us to close the school buildings because they are so afraid that their children will die there. In other parts of the world, schools are regarded as safe places … The régime wants to send the message that there is no future in this area for you or your children.”



 Asmar, the artist, went to leave flowers at Hussein’s grave in Binnish last week. Despite the pain of losing his young assistant, painting remains a way to hold on to hope and remind the world that Syrians still dream of peace and justice, he said.

 “Since I came back to Syria from Beirut years ago, I seek to draw a smile on children’s faces. I try to make them forget, even for a moment, the terror and war they’ve lived through,” he said.

 “I let them participate with me so that they are able to express their feelings through art. I want to deliver a message to them that hope still exists.” '

How 'the wheel of life' has stopped in Syria's Daraa

 'As the people of the Daraa al-Balad area remain at loggerheads with the Syrian régime and Russian forces, the residents are being starved of food and medicine while also deprived of education and other basic amenities over their refusal to participate in Assad’s “farce” elections.

 Since May, Daraa has been under siege by the Bashar al-Assad régime.

 Daraa al-Balad consists of several neighbourhoods, Palestinian refugee camps as well as camps for those displaced in the occupied Syrian Golan. There are also agricultural farms within the two to the three-kilometre area, but many have moved their operations, fearing bombardment by régime forces.



 Blocked off from medical attention, the elderly and children faint from the heat, as access to treatment for serious illnesses is barred.

 “A woman passed away while she was giving birth because she was prevented from entering the hospital,” says local businessman and family man Mohamed Zatima.

 He says that the Russians even go as far as to block off veterinary supplies to the area. “A siege by the Russians and the régime on Daraa al-Balad is not limited to humans, but even to animals,” he comments.

 Coronavirus is also a cause for alarm, as cases are rising and victims of the deadly disease cannot enter the hospital in the city centre.



 Local father-of-six Abu Abdullah, 55, who is now out of work due to poor health, describes life in besieged Daraa as tragic and difficult under a “suffocating blockade”.

 Having undergone an open-heart surgery eight months ago, he needs access to hard-to-get medicine, which is now impossible. “There is medicine I will have to cut out due to the lack of it, no presence of doctors, and my inability to buy it on the black market,” he says.

 He continues: “There is no water, no electricity, no way to go to hospitals and doctors in the régime’s area from medical laboratories, radiology or service centres.”

 Abu’s surgery cost him SYP 6 million ($4,770), and he had to seek the help of friends: “With the help of good people, I was able to pay for the operation.” He bears scars on his chest and legs from surgery, where arteries were transplanted to his heart, and he suffered injuries from régime attacks.

 Not only do the people of Daraa lose out on lifesaving medicine, but also the everyday basics. Starved of food and drink as energy runs low, work has dried up in the area. Cut off from the Daraa city centre, where the markets and modern shops are, the 11,000 families in Daraa al-Balad cannot access what they need.

 “[There is] no work, no income, and no minimum supply of food, oil, gas, and energy,” Abu says. “Life since the régime’s control has become much worse than before, previously and despite the war, medicine was still available at least. Now the wheel of life has stopped,” he says.

 The Syrian régime and Russian planes fly low over the neighbourhoods, frightening children, causing great anxiety, and making it impossible for them to continue their education.

 “I have four children who were prevented from entering schools and practising their hobbies," says Mohamed Zatima. "Due to the Russian jets which fly over the neighbourhoods at a low level, the children suffer from anxiety which has affected their behaviour.”

 Abu Abdullah says his daughters are unable to complete their education, due to the fact they are blocked off from schools in régime territory, and his other children are unable to work. “My children are deprived of their human rights, they have neither work nor study,” he says.

 Despite the siege, local activists continue to protest against the régime’s blockade, and the presidential elections, known as “the farce”. Untrusting the Russians, the local governing bodies have rejected the most recent deal put forward.

 Local activist Loranc Alakrad explains, “Russia asked us to hand over light weapons, 200 Kalashnikov rifles and 20 machine guns, but the response of the civil committee was that we do not have these weapons, and it cannot be delivered – this request was completely rejected.”

 Local protests demand the release of detainees, and the implementation of certain clauses in the July 2018 agreement that have not yet materialised, including the removal of militias and the return of the army – which has taken up residents in civilian homes and shops – to its barracks, the return of students to their schools and universities, and employees to their jobs.

 Loranc describes the blockade as revenge, pure and simple. “Regarding what happened in Daraa al-Balad, it is revenge for its rejection of Bashar al-Assad's elections – a child killer and a user of chemical weapons against his people,” he explains.

 Loranc, who is part of the peaceful protest movement in Daraa al-Balad, has faced assassination attempts from régime operatives, including a bombing attempt. He survived an attempted kidnapping in Daraa City after he managed to escape with his friends.

 Formerly a rebel stronghold, the régime retook the city in July 2018 and subjected the residents to what Loranc calls an attempt to humiliate and crush the spirit.

 “The demonstrations in fact did not stop in Daraa al-Balad, but transformed the settlement agreement in July 2018 from an agreement of humiliation and breaking the will of the people into steadfastness, glory and pride,” he says. “[We] turned this defeat into victory, and turned this defeat into pride and glory for every rebel who remained in Daraa al-Balad. In 2011 until today, the demonstrations did not subside.”

 He continues: “Yes, of course, the people of Daraa will continue to resist, and they have said no to handing over weapons or searching homes.”



 As the siege continues on the city, the residents can only speculate what will happen next. Will the régime launch a brutal offensive? Or will it simply continue its siege until the locals are starved out?

 “The régime and the Russians are still besieging the neighbourhoods of Daraa al-Balad, and in light of the arrival of new reinforcements, this suggests the possibility of a storming and massacre against us,” Mohamed Zatima explains.

 He fears an offensive against the people of Daraa, however, others don’t.

 “We are almost dead and there is no deterrent to him after the world abandoned us and his possession to all kinds of power and with the support of regional and global powers,” Abu Abdullah says. “This is a method of starvation and siege… and punishing a people for just an opinion.”

 Mohamed Zatima says if Assad stood in front of him, he would call him a child killer and a war criminal.

 He dreams of a better Syria, and rather than migrate to Europe, he has hope that Syria can achieve democracy: “I do not want to emigrate, but I want my country to become like the countries of Europe in terms of respect for human beings and appreciation of humanity. Syria is our country and the country of our ancestors.”

 Abu Abdullah on the other hand would want to migrate, striving for a decent future for his children. He would tell Assad to leave them in peace: “Leave and let us heal our wounds, for we have been exhausted by the war.” '

Will the West Ever Take Its Strategic Defeat Seriously?

Nicolas Tenzer:

 'It is often difficult to shake off the impression that everything has already been written about Syria. Since the beginning of the war in 2011, which is now entering its eleventh year, and even more so since the fall of Aleppo, all but those who do not want to see or understand anything, not to mention the propagandists of Assad and the Kremlin, know what is going on: there will be no peace in Syria as long as the régime does not fall and as long as Russian and Iranian troops remain there to protect it.

 I am not going to recall here the balance sheet, still provisional, of the war in Syria: probably more than a million dead, of which more than 90% can be attributed to the Assad régime, crimes of humanity that still persist in the prisons where more than 100,000 people remain detained and where torture and summary executions are the rule, about 12 million displaced people, half of them outside the country, Russian war crimes, still, which have caused more civilian victims than even those of IS, a destroyed country under the rule of a predatory mafia and a testing ground for new Russian weapons, but also for propaganda, first of all from the Kremlin, which is probably the most repugnant ever—and sometimes murderous.

 If—let us never forget this obvious fact—the most abominable consequences are for the Syrian people, the international system has been critically affected. This was, moreover, one of the blinding intentions of one of the parties involved: Putin’s régime. Tragically bogged down in their lack of understanding, most Western leaders have still not understood this.

 In fact, the war in Syria has produced the implosion from within of an already damaged but still somewhat functional UN system. It has affected not only the Security Council, paralyzed by the 16 Russian and often Chinese vetoes, but also certain agencies that have, in fact, made a pact with the régime, the latest turpitude being the election of Syria to the WHO executive board, even though it is guilty, along with Russia, of the deliberate attack on hospitals, health centers and rescue workers. The recent agreement reached at the UN on a very partial, one-point, and temporary opening on the delivery of emergency humanitarian aid to the millions of refugees in Idlib province is, alas, just another rout, even though better than nothing. At least the Western powers have not generally had the indecency this time to create victory.

 Let us not forget the primary fact: although with less intensity than two or three years ago, the massacres committed by Assad and Putin continue: a dozen children killed in recent weeks and rescue workers targeted according to the repeated technique of “double tap”: a first strike hits civilians and a second targets the rescue workers who have rushed to the scene.

 So, at times, we hoped: Antony Blinken has said some strong and deeply heartfelt words about Obama’s failings, and it’s all too clear that the failure to save hundreds of thousands of people haunts him. We also know that the Biden administration will not sacrifice Syria to a new, uncertain deal with Iran and that the two dimensions are untied for him. But there is no sense today of resolve to act on Syria. The question is not only moral, but strategic.



1. There is no diplomatic solution to the Syrian conflict.

 Let’s leave aside the empty and indecent diplomatic words: if there was a diplomatic solution, it would have been found long ago. The consequence must be drawn: there is a military solution to the conflict in Syria. If we are ready to give our enemies the monopoly of force, we will have lost.

 2. The main issue is not humanitarian aid, but the domination of a criminal régime and its Russian and Iranian allies.

 We must immediately—and categorically—save the Syrian people, who are facing the worst humanitarian crisis in the world, along with the Yemeni people. We must do everything to open humanitarian corridors and save, save, and save. But as long as the Assad régime is there, we will not have solved anything and the humanitarian crises will continue.

 3. What explains the major failure of the West so far is not our impotence, but our lack of will.

 To speak, indeed, of the West’s impotence when one sees the capacity for military action of the United States, the United Kingdom, France and certain Gulf countries that are members of the Coalition against the Islamic State, is a nasty joke. We have not, we are not, powerless, but we have refused to act and save the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. We have also allowed three criminal régimes to act according to their absolute will.

 4. The UN is not the solution to the Syrian conflict and the régime's crimes against humanity.

 From the moment when two powers block the Security Council and when the UN agencies, especially on the ground, sometimes seem to be unable to fight against the diversion of humanitarian aid by the Assad régime, we must draw the consequences. I already wrote this five years ago, sometimes provoking some controversies: “But you cannot marginalize the UN, the keystone of the international system”. Without doubt, it is necessary to do so, albeit with regret and in the hope of better days. No intervention will be decided by the UN against the Assad régime; the New York-based organization will always refuse to refer him and his henchmen to the International Criminal Court. The UN, in fact, serves today as an alibi for inaction.

 5. The fight against the Assad régime is as important as the fight against ISIS.

 Some heads of state and government pretend in their official speeches to consider that the main enemy is ISIS and that this is the priority fight. No one, of course, will responsibly support the absurd and dangerous thesis that the total eradication of ISIS is not an imperative. But can we consider, on the pretext that Assad is formally head of state, even though not recognized as such by most of the democratic countries, that his crimes are lesser, less abominable, and that, let us never forget, he has not himself made a pact with ISIS by releasing jihadists from its prisons? Should we close our eyes to the fact that the all-out murderous repression by his régime, the total de-education of the majority of the country’s children, the resentment left by the absence of action by the West, prepare the terrorist movements of tomorrow? Our fight will only be coherent if it is twofold: against ISIS and other Islamist terrorist groups, and against Assad.

 6. The war is not over in Syria.

 A dual war is actually still going on. First, as mentioned, Assad’s and Russia’s war against the Syrian people continues in the areas not occupied by the régime and which it intends to retake. Second, Assad has not won the war: in these areas, but sometimes also in those controlled by the régime, Syrians continue to fight, even if the space left to them is reduced. Dissatisfaction with the régime, not to say hatred for it, is still there, fueled by an economic and social crisis that plunges the people into grinding poverty and increases resentment against the profiteers of a corrupt régime.

 7. We must act with all powers in the region against the Assad régime.

 We have missed many opportunities for two main reasons. First, often out of fear of “provoking” Moscow—the same scenario applied in Georgia and Ukraine—we failed to seize the opportunity that at one point Turkey appeared to offer. Instead, our irresolution pushed Erdoğan into Putin’s arms. Of course, no one will claim that the man is without reproach and crimes—we will come back to this in this blog—but at some point our interests may have coincided. The same is true of the Gulf States that are members of the coalition, which the West, and first the United States under Obama and then under Trump, have left without a clear political direction. It would be dramatic if Joe Biden repeated the same mistake.

 8. As a corollary to the previous proposal, the United States and the European Union, including France in particular, must use all their means to dissuade the Gulf States from recognizing the Assad régime.

 I have often insisted on this idea: we cannot allow these countries to conclude separate agreements with this régime, as if to recreate an alliance of “strong régimes” in the region. The path opened by the United Arab Emirates is dangerous and could only go against the interests of these countries, especially in view of the destabilization of the entire region by Iran. This also applies to Israel, where the Netanyahu government was tempted to accommodate Assad and thought it could ally itself with Putin against Iran. The Israeli government must be urged to adopt a position that is both more dignified—Netanyahu’s position had in fact aroused indignation in some quarters in Israel—and more realistic.

 9. Putin’s Russia is not part of the solution, but the essence of the problem.

 Beyond Obama’s moral fault, his main strategic failure was to let Russia take over Syrian affairs from the fall of 2015. This major mistake has, moreover, had consequences for the strengthening of the Putin régime’s positions in Europe. Now, the first reality in Syria is that Moscow is the primary blocking point. One will always remember the disastrous exhortations of certain countries at the worst moment of the war who asked the Kremlin to “put pressure on Assad” so that he “shows more restraint”, while Putin’s Russia was committing almost as many crimes as Damascus and was doing everything to encourage him. The Russian lock on Syria must therefore be broken. Going beyond the United Nations could help.

 10. We will not solve the crisis in Lebanon without ending the conflict in Syria.

 Most analysts are clear: the Syrian régime, even if it no longer has total control over Beirut, is omnipresent there, notably in corruption enterprises, in trade, notably in ports, and in currency exchange systems. Trying to put an end to the crisis in Lebanon is futile as long as the Assad régime is in power, or at least as long as it is not permanently weakened.

 11. After Russia, Iran is the major problem in Syria.

 We probably do not need to insist on it here: Tehran largely controls Syria with ground forces and networks that are much more powerful than those of Russia, even if the latter has more of a “diplomatic” role and greater air control. Syria is one of the major fields of Iran’s destabilization of the Middle East, along with Lebanon, Palestine, Iraq and Yemen. If Moscow and Tehran are fighting for control of the Syrian economy or what remains of it, politically it would be a major misjudgment to separate the two.

 12. We must, if we cannot refer Syria to the International Criminal Court, establish a special international tribunal for Syria.

 Since Russia and China will always oppose referral to the ICC and Syria is not a party to the Rome Treaty, we must find another way. The Allies, along with as many other countries as possible, must indicate, on the basis of fully documented and damning cases, a decision to prosecute Assad and his cronies for crimes against humanity and war crimes. They must all be subject to an international arrest warrant. A special tribunal should be set up to judge all the crimes committed in Syria, including of course by ISIS, other terrorist groups and Russian and Iranian armed forces and militias.

 13. As a corollary, we must lift all remaining restrictions in some countries on the universal jurisdiction of criminal courts.

 As incomplete, limited and partial as it may be, the Koblenz trial has shown the importance of universal jurisdiction, which allows national courts to judge crimes committed elsewhere. These trials, which will also open in other European countries, allow not only the prosecution of presumed criminals, but also the establishment of their crimes and the bringing of them to light. However, some countries, including France, still have legislation that is too restrictive in terms of opening up to universal jurisdiction. It must be urgently modified.

 14. The European Union must urgently establish a Caesar Act on the model of the one instituted in the United States.

 The American Caesar Act allows sanctions to be imposed on any company or entity that trades in any way with the Syrian régime. Besides the fact that such trade, given what the régime is, is impossible without corruption, it allows its dignitaries to enrich themselves. Imposing a total ban on trade with the régime—except for humanitarian aid, as provided for in the American law—would also make it possible to target certain companies, including Russian and Chinese companies, which participate in this pact of corruption—the visit of Chinese MFA to Syria, where he unsurprisingly condemned régime change, is part of the picture that should be taken into consideration. This would make it impossible to do business with European countries.

 15. Heads of state and government in North America and Europe must name the war crimes of the Russian and Iranian leaders.



 Finally—I have insisted on this recently on this blog—democratic leaders must not only not be afraid to name the imprescriptible crimes committed by the principals and enforcers of these régimes, they must do so. We must be clear that there is no impunity for major crimes. On a symbolic level, this would be a major sign. Not to do so would also be a bad omen.

 These few clear principles govern our understanding of the crisis in Syria and allow us to take the measure of the necessary action. The West has so far let Putin’s régime set the agenda in Syria and given it the ability to impose its own game. Our lack of intelligence as much as our lack of will has allowed him to destroy large parts of the international system. Nor is he unaware that, in the medium and long term, the destruction of Syria will further strengthen the terrorist movements that will directly attack the West.

 But we prefer to play the lyre while the City burns from the fire we have allowed to flourish.'

Syrians Die in Media Darkness

 Muhammad Idrees Ahmad:

 'Last April, Akram Bathiesh, a middle-aged Syrian refugee, died of a heart attack in Denmark, shortly after being told by the authorities that his asylum status had been revoked and he had a month to leave. The Danish government has been reexamining the status of five hundred refugees from Syria, and Bathiesh was among the 189 whose asylum had been revoked since last summer, 94 of them this past March alone. Others included a Syrian-Palestinian grandmother named Rihab Kassem, originally from the Yarmouk refugee camp in Damascus, whose son Waled has been a Danish resident for twenty-five years; and Aya Abu Daher, a high school student, now nineteen, who captured headlines after making a televised appeal to the government. “All my life is here,” she said in fluent Danish. “How can I go back to Syria now?”

 Over the course of the war, Denmark has granted asylum to some 32,000 Syrians. Now, however, without any changes in the threats that forced those refugees’ flight, the Danish government is adopting a stringent new approach, with the ruling Social Democrats promising a “zero asylum seekers” policy. The Danish immigration authorities’ rationale for repatriating refugees—or “refoulement,” the term of art—is that “the conditions in Damascus…are no longer so serious that there are grounds for granting or extending temporary residence permits.” Since coming to power last year, the government of Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen has expanded the scope of this determination, designating the entire governorate around the city a safe zone. Denmark’s minister of integration, Mattias Tesfaye, a former Communist and the son of an Ethiopian immigrant, was adamant in rejecting the Syrian high schooler’s plea. “I won’t back down,” he said, “it won’t happen.”

 The government’s self-righteous statements suggest that Denmark is not content with sending refugees back to possible persecution, torture, or death; it also wants to assert that it is doing the right thing. By way of justification, it is defining security as the absence of combat in the territory under regime control.



 The insecurity in Syria, however, preceded the outbreak of civil war and has persisted through it. Indeed, it was the Assad regime’s rule by terror that triggered the uprising in the first place. The only thing the war did is to make the violence overt and lay bare the Damascus government’s grisly apparatus of control. The horrors of the regime’s prisons, which were all too familiar to Syrians, became known to the wider world. Yet the global attention brought no accountability. The prisons have remained fully operational, except that the regime now runs them with complete confidence of impunity.

 It is inconceivable that the regime’s menace toward its own citizens has diminished in the Damascus governorate. Early in the conflict, in 2012, a Human Rights Watch report revealed that of the twenty-seven detention centers that comprise Syria’s “torture archipelago,” ten were in the capital itself. In 2014, when a Syrian defector codenamed “Caesar”—who had been an official forensic photographer for the military police—shared 53,275 photos documenting the deaths of 6,786 detainees under torture, the most shocking discovery was that many of these bodies had been dumped in the courtyard of Military Hospital 601, just half a mile from the presidential palace in Damascus.



 The evidence about Syria’s charnel houses has continued to mount. According to a 2017 Amnesty International investigation, between September 2011 and December 2015, the regime executed as many as 13,000 political opponents at its military prison in Sednaya, including “demonstrators, long-time political dissidents, human rights defenders, journalists, doctors, humanitarian aid workers and students.” In a 2019 New York Times investigation into Bashar al-Assad’s torture gulag, Anne Barnard reported that nearly 128,000 detainees had disappeared into Syria’s dungeons over the course of the war. The detentions and disappearances have continued, with the Syrian Network for Human Rights reporting 972 arbitrary arrests in the first half of 2021 alone.

 The Danish government’s confidence in its declarations owes much to a vacuum of such information outside of the NGO world, enabled by Syria’s virtual absence from Western media in recent months. Much of Syria, including Syria’s five largest cities, have reverted to regime control. The northeast, which includes 70 percent of Syria’s oil reserves, is under the control of the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), while Turkey has carved out a buffer zone in the north, where it rules through Syrian proxies. Most of the displaced Syrians who remain in the country, numbering more than four million people, are squeezed into the parts of Idlib province that the regime has yet to recapture. That this enclave is controlled by the hardline Islamist group Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham puts its civilians doubly at risk: living constantly under the threat of renewed fighting, they endure arbitrary rule by these armed extremists.



 Although a 2018 ceasefire deal between Russia and Turkey was meant to have brought peace to Idlib, regime forces have continued their war of attrition against the rebel-held areas, albeit that their attacks are calibrated to a level below the threshold of international news interest. Western fatigue with the story has itself altered that calculus: in December 2019, the foreign press largely overlooked the regime forces’ major offensive to recapture Idlib. The operation appeared on the verge of success until Russia overplayed its hand and killed thirty-six Turkish soldiers. Unable to confront Russia directly, Turkey instead unleashed a lightning offensive against Syrian regime forces, killing nearly two hundred soldiers and militiamen, destroying in the process a significant part of the regime’s military arsenal. The ferocity of the Turkish retaliation halted the regime offensive, and that had the effect of buying a limited reprieve for Idlib’s majority refugee population since then.

 To the extent that this contest of wills between regional powers received any external attention, the civilians caught in the middle remained invisible. Syria received greater attention when it seemed a more hopeful story, and particularly when events happened to align with American concerns. In the West, Syria was first an Arab Spring story, then it became a chemical weapons story, then an ISIS story, then a refugee story, then a Great Power rivalry story. But once the Islamic State was defeated and Syria was quietly ceded to Russia and Turkey, it became a nonstory. And despite sporadic coverage of such atrocities as the deliberate bombing of hospitals in opposition-held areas, the regime’s quotidian violence toward its own citizens was never a major preoccupation for the international press.

 A Google Trends analysis shows that in the ten years of Syria’s war on civilians, the volume of news about it has largely remained low, except for a handful of spikes. Of these, three related to chemical weapons attacks in Syria—a use of banned weapons that President Obama once declared would be a “red line” triggering US intervention. By 2019, according to the Global Public Policy Institute, there had been 336 chemical attacks in Syria, with 98 percent carried out by the regime, the rest by the so-called Islamic State. The incidents that got attention in the Western media, however, were only the those in which the US either did retaliate or considered military action.

 Some of these developments—such as the August 2013 chemical attack or Russia’s entry into the war—were major events in Syria’s bloody war, but others of far more consequence for Syrians received barely any attention. The volume of news rose only slightly during the summer of 2012, when the regime carried out a series of sectarian massacres and started using airpower against cities (notably, helicopter-borne barrel bombs); it actually dipped after Obama retreated from his red line and the regime escalated its violence. In 2016, it rose again, though marginally, as the crisis in Aleppo escalated, but after the April 2017 chemical attack and US airstrikes, it dipped. Since then, international interest has waned.



 That events in Syria only registered when they intersected with Western interests is also illustrated by the strikingly different coverage of the population flight in 2015 compared with the one in 2019. Syrians had been fleeing their country in large numbers since the fall of 2013, as the regime used its newfound impunity after the red line fiasco to escalate, but with the combination of the rise of the Islamic State and Russia’s entry into the war in 2015, this turned into a mass exodus. Whereas, until then, Syrians had been taking refuge mainly in Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan, and Iraq, some then started making their way into Europe. This was duly pronounced a “refugee crisis.” In September 2015, the photo of young Aylan Kurdi’s drowned body being picked up from a Turkish beach changed the scope and tone of Western media coverage enough to move German Chancellor Angela Merkel into granting asylum to a large refugee population, an example that several other European states, including Denmark, and joined by Canada, followed on a smaller scale.

 The December 2019 offensive that the Damascus regime and Russia had initiated to retake Idlib had by February 2020 driven nearly a million more people from their homes. This was the largest single displacement of the conflict, yet it went virtually unreported in the West because the displacement was happening within Syria. This changed once Turkey, which was already home to 3.7 million Syrian refugees, announced that it would no longer prevent refugees from crossing into Europe. The subsequent coverage, however, focused not on the refugees but on Turkish perfidy and cynicism.

 When Western media, which has some commitment to accuracy and objectivity, moves on, or when it fails to amplify local voices with direct knowledge of the situation, it leaves an information vacuum. In the case of Syria, that is filled by Russian and Iranian media, whose coverage is of an entirely different nature. The aim of these outlets, which are less concerned with facts than with upholding state-sanctioned narratives, is obfuscation. If they can manufacture uncertainty about major events, such as chemical weapons attacks, they can cast everything about the conflict into doubt. The deluge of disinformation produced by official news operations such as Russia Today, echoed by state propaganda fronts like Sputnik, and amplified by armies of trolls, sends the denialist accounts to the top of Google, YouTube, and Twitter searches.

 This impression of a hopelessly disputed and thus unknowable reality is strategic. It is designed to disrupt an accurate apprehension of the fact that the Syrian civil war is probably the best-documented conflict in history. Many things about the conflict are complicated, but it is incontestable that the Syrian regime has been the main perpetrator of violence against civilians, and it has acted as such in a sustained, systematic, and deliberate manner. There is an overwhelming consensus among war crimes investigators, human rights groups, and tracking agencies on this score. Indeed, according to the American lawyer and former war crimes prosecutor Stephen Rapp, the evidence massed against the Syrian regime is more extensive than the Allies had in gaining convictions against Nazi leaders at the Nuremberg tribunal.

 Yet the issue has little traction with the public in the US and in Europe—in part because of the dearth of coverage, a void that has been filled by disinformation, and in part because of a general indifference toward Syria among Western leaders, despite the catastrophic consequences of the war. While Western media has moved on, Russian and Iranian state media and their various auxiliaries have waged a relentless propaganda offensive, focusing in particular on the major chemical attacks to which the Western media did pay attention. In an attempt to obscure the regime’s responsibility, these outlets and operatives have directed their campaign of disinformation and vilification at witnesses and survivors, organizations that documented the attacks (such as the volunteer rescuers and medics of the White Helmets), and the scientists who investigated and validated the evidence (such as the Organisation for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons). The specter of Iraq is again and again raised to suggest that the allegations about the Syrian regime’s use of chemical weapons are no more credible than was the intelligence about Saddam Hussein’s weapons of mass destruction that the US used to justify the 2003 invasion. The aim is not so much to present a plausible counter-narrative as to thicken the fog of war. The manufacturing of doubt, turning knowns into unknowns, has proved effective—leaving more and more people in the West confused, making them reluctant to take sides.



 In the 1990s, in the wake of the Gulf War, a debate raged among academics about the media’s capacity to rouse public sentiment and influence policy. The so-called CNN Effect was testament to the presumed power of then novel twenty-four-hour cable news channels to inspire humanitarian action. But the effect has proven to be a myth—and Syria has settled that debate. When leaders are committed to inaction—because of perceived risks, absence of strategic interest, or fear of domestic opposition—no amount of atrocity stories will stir them into action.

 Where there is genuine interest among leaders, it makes a story newsworthy for the media, making executives willing to commit resources to covering it. But without the possibility of humanitarian redress, without a narrative of righting wrong, exposure to such conflict coverage merely creates a sense of helplessness over time. And as the scale of suffering increases, empathy paradoxically declines. The psychologists Daniel Västfjäll and Paul Slovic and colleagues have noted that compassion for a single identified individual may be natural, but it is difficult to “scale up” this emotion. “Such fading of compassion has the potential to significantly hamper individual-level and collective (e.g., political) responses to pressing large-scale crises, such as genocide or mass starvation or severe environmental degradation,” they write. Collective inaction breeds individual apathy, and apathy becomes not merely indifference, but aversion. People develop a psychic need to tune out.

 News organizations, in turn, avoid committing resources to a story for which there is no audience. Interest in Syria also waned because the story lost its novelty, its capacity to shock. The first massacre in Syria horrified people, the second one less so, and the shock value declined with each subsequent atrocity until it collapsed altogether. After the regime had tortured a child to death and returned his body to his parents with his genitals severed, as it did to Hamza al Kahtib in 2011, after it had sent goons to slit the throats of 49 children, as it did in Houla in 2012, after it gassed 426 children to death with sarin, as it did in Eastern Ghouta in 2013, after it napalmed schools, as it did in Aleppo in 2013, after it starved children, as it did in Yarmouk and Madaya in 2014-2016, after it bombed hospitals, as it did on 541 separate occasions throughout the war, no crime seemed too unimaginable for the regime. Western viewers wanted to look away: when outrage has no outcome, horror fatigue sets in.'

In Syria, refugee tent camps harden into concrete cities

 

 'Adnan al-Hamdo's neighborhood is a ruin, the houses pitted by gunfire or crushed by shelling. The shops are empty or shuttered. Fields nearby are barren because the farmers have left.

 His town sits along a front line between Syrian rebels and régime forces. His neighbors and millions of other people across central and southern Idlib province have fled to the relative safety of areas north, along the Turkish border, where camps for the displaced have swollen into cities.

 But Hamdo was standing firm, even as his town was disintegrating around him. “God knows, things might escalate,” he said during a recent interview in his spacious, spare sitting room, as neighbors told him about the latest mortar strike on the town. “This is better than a camp.”

 After years of dithering and deadlock by the international community over the fate of Idlib, one of Syria’s last rebel-held areas, the province is being transformed. Housing blocks and markets are rising in what were once vast olive groves along the Turkish border as Idlib’s center of gravity shifts from south to north. There, schools are filling with students and electricity is regular in places. There are endless traffic jams.



 By comparison, other parts of Idlib feel discarded, in an arc stretching from the east, near the city of Aleppo, along twitchy front lines in the south and onto the city of Jisr al-Shughour, which sits on a road leading to the coast along the south — abandoned to the conflict between rebels and President Bashar al-Assad’s régime, which for years has tried to recapture the restive province.

 Behind Idlib’s transformation is a merciless, years-long dislocation of millions of Syrians from around the country, many displaced from homes multiple times before they ended up in this enclave. If the north of the province feels like a boomtown, for many it is a miserable one, filled with people who survive on handouts from humanitarian organizations as they wait to return their homes. For now, many are digging in, one cinder block at a time.

 Assad’s forces, backed by Russian air power, have mounted a string of offensives to retake the province. The latest began in December 2019 and ended with a cease-fire a few months later, after Turkey, which supports some rebel groups, sent thousands of its own troops into Idlib.

 One million people have settled in a district encompassing parts of northern Idlib, near the Turkish border. Rough wooden scaffolds mark the establishment of new construction sites. Local markets burst with eggplants and onions, watermelons and cherries. Motorcycles vie with tractor-trailers for space on ragged roads.In previous years, Atma, a large camp for the displaced, was referred to by locals as the camp for those “stranded on the border.” For some, it was a way station before trying to cross illegally into Turkey.



 When Ahmed al-Hijazi arrived there in 2013, there were a few hundred families in tents. Five years ago, there were about 13,000 families in what the United Nations calls the “Atma cluster.” Now there are more than 30,000 families, or about 160,000 people. “It became a city,” Hijazi said.

 As people lost hope of returning to their towns and villages, as he had, they began to build homes. Hijazi, who works for a nonprofit organization, built a two-bedroom dwelling that cost roughly $10,000. The wealthy were building two- and three-story structures. The building spree had created some construction jobs, but they paid only a little more than $3 a day. Most people were unemployed, and many were stranded in tents.

 There is no regular electricity in Atma, but a new Syrian company has provided service recently to other parts of northern Idlib as well as the provincial capital. There were plans, as yet unrealized, to repave and widen the local roads to accommodate surging traffic.



 More and more, the region feels like a province of Turkey, with the Turkish lira used as the local currency, along with the dollar, and cellphone service available on the Turkish network. A Turkish nongovernmental organization is building tens of thousands of homes in the region.

 “It is shifting into what looks like a permanent situation,” said Dareen Khalifa, senior Syria analyst with the International Crisis Group.

 Turkey has been trying to create favorable living conditions to prevent people from crossing its border. Even Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, the militant Islamist group that controls Idlib, has been seeking to stabilize the area, mostly to persuade Western countries and other foreign donors that it has shed its extremist roots and is worthy of international recognition, Khalifa said.

 Stability is little salve for many Syrians. “We have no hope to go back to our homes in the near future — not in the next 10 years,” said Hijazi, whose home in southern Idlib was destroyed.



 The truce in Idlib looks brittle from Hamdo’s town, called Maarat al-Naasan, where the rebels and régime forces hold positions barely a few miles apart. On the day reporters visited earlier this month, régime forces shelled a group of civilians who had gathered at a water-pumping station on the outskirts of town, locals said. This time, no one was hurt.

 Hamdo downplayed the danger, calling it something short of fighting. “There are light clashes,” he said. His main worry was that the tensions elsewhere in Idlib would have a domino effect — that if régime forces started moving to retake territory in the west, rebels in his town, in eastern Idlib, would provoke a clash to divert them.

 A surge of violence over the past few weeks has seemed ominous. Clashes have erupted across front lines in southern Idlib. Régime rocket and artillery strikes on civilian areas in Idlib and Aleppo’s countryside have killed 13 children since late last week. They were among dozens of civilians killed in recent attacks — an escalation that has left locals worried that a larger military confrontation is brewing.

 Still, Hamdo seemed determined to stay in his home.

 He has little electricity, save what solar panels provide — enough to power some lights and “sometimes a fan,” he said. He laughed when asked how he powered the refrigerator. Without electricity, there was no need for a refrigerator. He had been displaced once, and while he was gone, someone stole all the doors in his house. There was not much else to take.



 For a time, after the cease-fire was called last year, “things seemed almost normal,” he said. As they grew tense again, those like Hamdo who had returned from the camps refused to leave their homes again. They had property to protect. They had sanity to preserve.

 A recent survey by the International Rescue Committee found evidence of an alarming rise in suicides in northwestern Syria, with a majority of respondents saying the reasons included depression and mental health issues or domestic violence against women. Fifty-three percent said the suicides were “due to loss of hope given the ongoing crisis and deteriorating conditions,” the IRC said.

 “Those who returned left a bad situation in the camps,” Hamdo said.



 Like Hamdo, Fayha Shahin was able to go home — about two years ago, to the town of Ariha — after being displaced for a time by fighting. But the war found her again. This month, her four daughters were injured in a strike on their house while Shahin was away at work, she said.

 Her youngest, 8-year-old Bailasan Hindawi, was in danger of losing her leg, doctors at al-Shifa hospital in Idlib city said. Two other daughters were in the same hospital. Another was in the intensive care unit of a second hospital.

 Hardship had clung to her family. Her husband was arrested by the régime soon after the 2011 revolt against the Assad régime and had never been heard from again. She and her children had been wounded by shrapnel in a previous airstrike. The house struck more recently, a rental, was rubble.

 Other displaced families in Idlib have found shelter on rocky hillsides, under olive trees, on an old railway berm that kept the water from pooling in tents. Shahin’s home is the hospital, for now, and she has not given much consideration to what comes next.

 “I have two daughters in the ICU,” she said. “I am not thinking about anything else.” '

The woman fighting to find her father

 

 'Eight years ago, as pro-democracy protests raged on the streets of Syria, Wafa Mustafa’s father, Ali, was dragged from an apartment in Damascus by armed men and driven away. It was the last time he was seen or heard from. “In just a few moments, our family was obliterated,” says Mustafa. “It was the end of our lives, and the beginning of another kind of existence altogether.” Mustafa was 23. “So young, really, although I didn’t feel like that at the time,” she says.

 Now 31, she has not talked to her father for nearly 3,000 days. “For me, losing my dad feels like losing a part of my soul,” she says. “After he was taken from us, I realised that my whole life, everything, has been about trying to impress him or imitate him. He was this powerful, essential force. For years, without him, I didn’t even know who I was.”

 The powerlessness of not knowing what has happened to Ali has been “like a kind of death”, she says. “We have done everything we could. We have assigned lawyers, leveraged every connection of a connection. We’ve bribed, beaten down every door, but it has just been silence.”

 Mustafa’s search for her father has come to dominate her life. She has become a relentless campaigner to free all of those who remain detained in Syria, fighting to ensure that the families left behind are not forgotten.

 Since the Syrian revolution began in 2011, it is believed that more than 150,000 civilians have disappeared into detention centres or been tortured and killed by the Assad régime.

 “What we’re going through is a story of collective tragedy,” says Mustafa. “In Syria, I doubt there is a single family who has not had a loved one detained, kidnapped or disappeared. Whether those who were taken were for or against the revolution, it doesn’t matter to me. I advocate for freedom for all.”

 Mustafa’s family feel certain that those who dragged Ali away were acting on the orders of Assad’s military régime. Ali was an outspoken critic of the régime and supporter of the Syrian revolution, which, in 2013 when he disappeared, was looking as if it might have the momentum to overthrow the dictatorship.

 “My father was living in a neighbourhood that was tightly controlled by the régime, but where there was a lot of support for the revolution and where there had been many arrests and kidnappings by government forces,” she says. “He was taken away with his best friend, whose family was told he had been killed under torture in a government detention facility.”



 Mustafa’s family is from Masyaf, a religiously and politically diverse city in north-west Syria, three hours from Damascus. Before his disappearance, Ali had already been arrested, detained and tortured by the régime for his human rights activism and political beliefs.

 “When he was detained, people would talk about him being in prison, but I was never ashamed,” Mustafa says. “I wanted people to know. I was proud of who he was.” Ali’s passion for politics and for freedom for Syria defined and shaped Mustafa’s childhood. “He was really a hero to us. When he was young, he was very handsome and intense. He had gone out to fight for the Palestinian cause,” she says. “I always had this very romantic idea of him being like a Palestinian freedom fighter, very passionate in love and in fighting. He filled our house with music, politics and people.”

 When she was growing up in Masyaf, Mustafa would always tell people she wanted to be a war correspondent. “I mean, that was true, but only because I knew that would impress my dad. Really, all I wanted was to be just like him.”

 Ali encouraged his three daughters to think for themselves – despite the fact that under the régime freedom of speech was curtailed. “There is this saying that we grew up with: ‘The walls have ears.’ Everyone was scared of that, but nothing was off-limits in our house. Neither my mother nor my father hid their political views from us. They wanted us to be free.”

 Her father took her to her first demonstration when she was 10 – to protest about Palestine and the war in Iraq. At that time, the régime allowed people to blow off steam for what it considered to be safe political causes. “But, even then, I knew that, when we were chanting for freedom for Palestine, we were also calling for our own freedom,” says Mustafa.

 When Egyptians started protesting in Tahrir Square at the beginning of the Arab spring in early 2011, Mustafa and Ali would take it in turns to do shifts in front of the TV news. When the Egyptian president, Hosni Mubarak, resigned, it was the first time she saw her father cry.

 “I think he understood what this meant for Syrians: that a revolution was coming,” she says. “When the protests started in Syria, he changed. He was very calm. He told me: ‘I had hoped my whole life that this would happen, but I never thought I would witness it. Even if I don’t get to see victory for the Syrian people, it is enough for me that I have been there at the beginning.’”

 The revolution turned Mustafa from politics to activism. She was out on the streets protesting every day. Her mother was terrified, but when Mustafa was arrested – she spent weeks in a Syrian government prison where she was beaten and interrogated – her father continued to support her participation in the uprising.



 “My mother supported me completely, but she was scared of what would happen to me at the protests, while my dad always said: ‘You have to do what you think is right.’ I think it takes a special kind of strength to see your children put themselves in danger for what they believe in, but support them with your whole heart.”

 By 2013, as the conflict was escalating, one of Mustafa’s closest friends was killed in a shelling by régime forces in a civilian neighbourhood, and she fell apart. “I’d been protesting every day for two years. I’d been kicked out of school for my political beliefs, I’d been detained and terrorised. And then when I lost that person it just broke me.”

 At this time, Mustafa was living in Damascus with Ali, as it had become too dangerous for him to remain in Masyaf. “My dad was there with me and he nursed me, and got me through that really dark time. It was just the two of us. Without him, I wouldn’t have made it. A few months later, he was gone.”



 On 2 July 2013, Mustafa’s mother, who had stayed with her youngest daughter in Masyaf, was on her way to Damascus to visit her husband after months of separation. “My mother and father had this epic love story. She still has letters from him that she won’t let us read. For them to be apart was really hard, but she was keeping everything together for my sister at home. Even though travel was very dangerous at that time, she decided to visit my father, and was only 15 minutes away from his apartment when she called him to say she was nearly there. When she reached the apartment, he was gone.”

 Her father’s arrest marked the end of Mustafa’s life in her homeland. “I never thought I’d ever leave, I thought that I would always stay and fight for a fair and just Syria, but my dad always told us: ‘If I am arrested, you must take your mother and your sister and get out because they will come for you all too.’ So that’s what we did. We left my father behind in Syria and we ran for our lives.”

 Taking nothing but their passports, Mustafa and her mother and youngest sister embarked on a terrifying escape, crossing over the border into Turkey under the cover of darkness. They lived there for three years as refugees, a period that Mustafa calls “the darkest of times”.

 “I was just so depressed and heartsick,” she says. “In Turkey, I felt as if I were barely alive. I only got through it because I knew I had to look after my mother and my sister.” She started documenting Islamic State (Isis) atrocities in Syria with the citizen journalism collective Raqqa Is Being Slaughtered Silently, which reported on human rights abuses by Isis and other forces occupying the northern Syrian city. But, one by one, her colleagues in Turkey were assassinated by the terrorist group. Later, she worked for a Syrian radio station and as a reporter for the New Arab website.



 In 2016, Mustafa was granted asylum in Germany and fled, leaving her family behind in Turkey. They have been separated ever since. Her mother and youngest sister are now in Canada, and her other sister is in the US. “Being separated from my mother is another hardship that is difficult to bear,” she says.

 Since she arrived in Berlin, a place of relative safety, Mustafa’s life has been consumed by the search for her father. “It’s become this daily existential crisis,” she says. “I talk about him all day, every day, but haven’t heard his voice for eight years. He’s the first thing I think about in the morning. It’s as if he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

 “Enforced disappearances, kidnappings, detention, it breaks the people who are left behind. It’s a form of imprisonment in itself. You spend your life in this state of suspension, completely powerless with no way of moving forward.”

 Being interviewed over video from Berlin, Mustafa is impressive, eloquent, fiercely bright. It’s easy to see how she is shaping up to be a ferocious campaigner. “I poured all my energy into fighting for a free and peaceful Syria,” she says. “Now I am fighting for him.”

 Since 2016, while completing her education and working as a journalist, Mustafa has also worked with Families for Freedom, a campaigning group fighting for the release of the victims of forced disappearances.

 Her activism has led to the plight of the families of the Syrian disappeared being debated at the highest political and diplomatic levels. In July 2020, she was asked to give a speech to the UN security council on forced disappearances as a war crime where she demanded the release of those still detained in Syria. “Which was a surreal experience because in the same meeting was Assad’s representative at the UN. I had to sit through his speech, and afterwards I was shaking. I thought: ‘OK, if I can get through that then I know I’m strong.’” Her campaigning has seen the issue of arbitrary detention covered extensively in the international media.

 In April last year, Mustafa also held a one-woman vigil outside a courtroom in Koblenz, Germany, where two former senior Syrian military intelligence officers – Anwar Raslan and Eyad al-Gharib – were on trial in a high-profile case over alleged state-sponsored torture and murder at a Damascus detention centre. Mustafa sat alone among 121 photographs of missing people, including her father, who had been detained since the start of the Syrian uprising.

 “It felt like a heavy burden because I was very alone, sitting there surrounded by all those photos of people I’d never met. But I also felt very strong because I was there representing all those families, letting everyone know that we wouldn’t be silenced, and we wouldn’t give up until we found them.”

 She has become the public face of the search for the disappeared in Syria, and is constantly contacted by families looking for their loved ones. “It’s a huge responsibility because has my campaigning led to the release of my father? No. Has it led to the release of any other of the disappeared? No. But if I don’t scream and shout as loudly as I can about what has happened to 150,000 people, will anything ever change? We will just be forgotten. I won’t let that happen. I can show them that someone is out there fighting for them.”

 It is inconceivable that she will ever stop trying to find out what happened to her father, she says. “It’s not like one day I’m ever going to wake up and forget he’s my father or find a way to make peace with the fact that he’s missing,” she says. “No. I will do this until I get the truth, even if it takes me the rest of my life.” She understands that she has been hardened and eroded by the exhaustion of living through the pain of her father’s absence day after day. “Some days, I look in the mirror and I don’t recognise myself. I feel so old, even though I’m only 31.” '