Syrian Journalist Wafa Mustafa: "I Will Bring My Father Home, Disappeared by Assad's Régime. That's Why I Survive"

 

 'The day my father was taken by police and disappeared is etched in my memory and will never leave me. It was July 2, 2013. At the time, my family was divided between my hometown of Masyaf and the capital Damascus. My father was in the family home in Damascus at the time because it had become too dangerous for him to stay in our hometown. My mother was on her way to visit him after months of separation, risking her safety to be with him. She was only 15 minutes away when she called him to say she was almost there. He told her he had cleaned the house and was waiting for her. But when she arrived, it was too late. The Assad régime’s security forces had already stormed the apartment and taken my father away. It was as if, in that single moment, my life had split in two: before and after. I felt helpless, as if everything had collapsed on me. The image of my mother arriving home, expecting to see her husband, only to find that he was gone, still breaks my heart.



 My father disappeared because he had the courage to speak out against Bashar al-Assad’s régime. He was a voice of the Syrian revolution, an advocate for freedom and dignity. Before his disappearance, he had already been arrested for daring to speak out about politics in a country that wants its people to have no opinions or beliefs. But my father refused to be silenced. By 2013, the revolution had taken hold and he was living in a régime-controlled neighborhood where many arrests were taking place. The régime could not tolerate his defiance, so they came for him. His best friend, Hussam, who was taken with him that day, is said to have died under torture. However, we have not heard from my father since. My father’s crime was to want a better and free Syria, and that is why he disappeared.



 That day marked the end of our old lives and the beginning of an endless nightmare. My father’s disappearance destroyed our family. It wasn’t just about losing him, it was about losing our entire sense of security, home and family. My father had always been our pillar of strength, resilience and hope. We had no choice but to flee. My mother, my younger sister and I fled Syria in the dark of night, carrying only our passports. We crossed the border into Turkey, terrified for our lives, leaving my father behind. In that moment, my life changed forever. I had always imagined that I would stay in Syria and continue to fight for justice, but after that day, nothing was the same. We became refugees, separated from each other and from everything we had ever known. That day destroyed the life we ​​had and we have lived in the shadow of that moment ever since.





Today I still live with the uncertainty that has dominated my life since my father's disappearance. I have not heard his voice or seen his face for over 4,100 days. Every day is a struggle, but I continue to move forward because I have no other choice. The pain of losing him has become part of who I am. It's as if a piece of my soul is missing. I spend my days fighting for him and for all those who have disappeared in Syria. This fight has become a reason for survival. There are moments when I look in the mirror and I struggle to recognize myself because the weight of this journey has aged me in ways I cannot describe. But despite the tiredness and the pain, I continue to move forward because I believe, with all my heart, that he is still alive and I cannot stop looking for him.



 I don’t see what I do as activism; it’s a fight for my father’s life. This fight is deeply personal, rooted in my father’s teachings and the values ​​he instilled in me. My father raised me to think about myself and community. Now, my fight is not just about him; it’s for the 150,000 Syrians who have been forcibly disappeared and their families who endure this unimaginable suffering. It’s not just about making noise or raising awareness; it’s about ensuring that my father and others like him are free and not forgotten. That’s my purpose, and I won’t stop until I find out what happened to him.



 Syria today is a country marked by years of brutality, ruled by a dictatorship that has obliterated lives, families and homes. For those of us who were forced to leave, it remains a country suspended in grief, haunted by the memories of those who disappeared, including my father. Syria is also a place of profound resilience, where people have dared to dream of a better reality. It is not only a land torn apart by war, but a reminder of what happens when global powers back dictators. Until Syria sees justice, the fight for freedom is far from over.



 It matters because the world has begun to forget. The régime that caused so much suffering is slowly normalizing on the global stage. But for those of us who have lost loved ones, who have been forced into exile, and who continue to live with the trauma of disappearances, the wounds are still fresh. More than 150,000 people have been forcibly disappeared and their families are still waiting for answers. The world could move on, but we cannot. If we stop telling Syria’s story, if we stop supporting the disappeared, we allow these crimes to be swept under the carpet. Syria’s story is not just a story of war; it is a story of resilience, of people who refuse to be silenced. We owe it to our loved ones to keep fighting for liberation and justice, no matter how long it takes.



 I live in Berlin, Germany today. I left Turkey for Berlin after three years of living there. It was one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make: leaving my family. My mother and younger sister are now in Canada, while my other sister is in the United States. We have been separated since I came to Germany. It is a strange kind of existence, living so far away from home and the people I love. Exile is lonely and painful, but I continue my work here because giving up is a luxury I cannot afford.



 When I think of my father, I see the man who was my hero, the one who filled our home with music, politics and ideas. He was passionate about freedom, not just for Syria but for everyone. He fought for justice and I wanted to be just like him ever since I was a little girl. But I also see the man who was taken from us and is a nightmare I can’t escape. I imagine him in a dark cell and I wonder if he’s cold, hungry, sick, sad or lonely. I wonder if he thinks we’ve given up and forgotten him. These thoughts break my heart. I try not to let them consume me, but they’re always there, just beneath the surface. Despite it all, I hold on to the belief that he’s still alive. Many people have returned after years of being thought dead, and I hold on to that hope. I have to believe that one day I will find him.'

While Opposing Israel, Syrians in Rebel-Controlled Idlib Celebrate Nasrallah’s Death

 

 'Syrians in the country’s last rebel holdout celebrated the Hezbollah chief’s assassination and shared hopes that Bashar Assad would be killed as well

 Israel’s assassination of Hezbollah chief Hassan Nasrallah on Saturday stunned many in the Middle East. Even in countries hostile to Israel, such as Lebanon, Syria, and Iran, some Middle Easterners celebrated the downfall of the controversial figure.

 Videos circulating on social media show jubilant crowds from the Idlib region of northwestern Syria. Upon hearing of Nasrallah’s death, celebrants in the videos pour into the streets, holding Syrian flags and handing out candies.

 Hezbollah has been a key ally of Bashar Assad’s regime in Syria since the outbreak of the civil war in 2011. The Iran-backed group helped Assad’s forces regain control of several critical Syrian provinces, including Aleppo, and helped him maintain his grip on power despite internal opposition.

 The militia’s presence in Syria was initially justified as a mission to protect Shiite holy sites and border villages, but it soon expanded to encompass active military engagement in Sunni-majority areas, causing many civilian casualties.



 “The people of Idlib are celebrating Nasrallah’s death after all the evil things he did against them,” said Mofida Akir, an activist in the Syrian revolution. “I personally cried a lot out of joy because a tyrant was killed, and this means that others may follow, like Assad. I rejoiced for every mother and wife whose son or husband was killed by him and his militia, or those who generally experienced displacement and violence.”

 “We would have been even more joyful if he had been killed by the hands of Syrians as vengeance for our blood,” Akir continued. “We are just grateful that he doesn’t pose a threat anymore to our country.”

 Idlib is known as the last bastion of Syrian rebel forces opposed to Assad’s rule. The area is also home to millions of displaced Syrians, many of whom fled other parts of the country due to the regime’s violence.



 Rizik al-Abi, a Syrian journalist reporting from Idlib, said that most of the region’s residents are internally displaced people. Residents of Idlib are suffering due to attacks by Assad’s army, lack of proper infrastructure, and economic instability, he said.

 Al-Abi noted that Hezbollah has a growing presence in Aleppo, Homs, and Damascus. He expressed a desire that Syria be ruled by Syrians “without Iran interfering anymore.”

 “The death of the head of one of its proxies is diminishing its power for sure,” al-Abi said. “Despite the media not discussing this enough, many people are against Assad and these entities in our country, but some are too afraid of repercussions to go out and show it.” '

For the Syrian Regime, ‘Everything Must Go, the People and All They Own’

 

 'The trial last May in Paris of three high-ranking Syrian officials, Jamil Hassam, Ali Mamluk and Abdel Salem Mahmoud for crimes against humanity revealed the systematic confiscations of property by the régime, the expropriation and extortion of the funds of the deceased and their families. Facts which were documented extensively, based especially on the case of the Dabbagh family, that of two Franco-Syrians arrested in Damascus in 2013, a case which enabled the French judicial system to get hold of the dossier.

 On 23 May, Syria for Justice and Accountability (SJAC), an NGO which collaborated in the investigation, made public a very detailed report on these official depredations, entitled ‘With God’s help, nothing will remain. Plundering of civilian possessions under the auspices of the Syrian government.’ It shows that these thefts were orchestrated at the top level of the military hierarchy and served to ensure the economic resources of the régime and its rulers. The verdict qualifies them as ‘violations of the laws of war’. Their guiding principle was ‘Everything must go, the people and their belongings.’



 When Mazen Dabbagh was arrested in his home in November 2013, the arresting officers took note of his new car and confiscated his keys before driving him to the Mezzeh prison from which he would never return. Afterwards, the car was frequently seen around the neighbourhood; his wife would even receive a speeding ticket. In 2016, the officers came back and informed her that she was dispossessed of her family home. The seal they showed her came from the Finance Ministry: it was just a plain sheet of A4 foolscap, with a lipstick border around the edges, as Obeida Dabbagh, Mazen’s brother, told the court.

 Discovering on the premises that the whole building belonged to the family, the officers also confiscated the keys to the mother’s apartment.

 Having been apprised of these events, Obeida Dabbagh tried to understand why Mazen, and his son had been arrested and how the government could seize the whole building when only a quarter of it belonged to his brother. He and his wife Hanane, also a joint plaintiff at the trial, moved heaven and earth to recover their family’s property and to give themselves the best chances of success, hired an Alawite attorney. At the bar, Obeida declared:

 "I didn’t know things would go that far. My constant concern was to find out what they were accused of. Nothing is certain, we can only guess. But maybe it was only for the apartment!"



 His investigations, plagued with pitfalls, enabled him to find out the apartment now belongs to the State pursuant to ‘the seizure of property belonging to terrorists’. It is now occupied, for an annual rent of 30 dollars, by one Abdel Salam Mahmoud – who at the time was head of the Air Force investigation services in Damascus, directly involved in the disappearance of Mazen and his son Patrick. It was then that the family learned that another part of the building was leased to another of the régime’s dignitaries. This was confirmed by Mazen Darwish, head of the Syrian Media Centre (SMC), another joint plaintiff: ‘The extension of funds and confiscation of property provides the régime with financial and economic resources. This is sometimes the reason for the arrests.’

 Another witness to take the stand was N., presently a political refugee in France. With the rest of his family, he is from Al-Moadamiyeh, a district in South-West Damascus, next to the military base in Mezzah airport, nerve centre of the horrific air force and its intelligence service. In this base are also located the prisons where thousands of civilians are held and tortured as well as Hospital 601, known for the photos of tortured corpses taken by forensic photographer Cesar.N. told how 70% of the land in Al-Madmiveha, a district that has become highly strategical, is occupied and shared between the air force, the fourth division, the combat brigades and all the factions that gravitate around the airport: ‘We have the title deeds! I’m 40 years old and I’ve never been able to set foot on those tracts of land. We had the right to sell them but only to the régime.’ At the beginning of the ‘revolution’ the people demonstrated demanding the restitution of their confiscated land in which the airport was built. In 2012, the rebel town was bombed with poison gas and underwent a three-year siege.

 N. was arrested and taken to Mezzeh. After three months of daily torture in the airport prisons, he was made to sign a confession with his fingerprints. His hands were tied behind his back and he had a blindfold over his eyes. When the civil court judge asked him about that confession, he told him: ‘I have no idea what they made me sign! I might have sold my own house without knowing it!’And before the Paris magistrates, he explained: ‘I was right, some of my holdings were seized after that, and all my father’s properties were confiscated and turned over to air force intelligence.’



 This testimony confirms that of Obeida Dabbagh and documents the fact that arbitrary confiscation is one of the strategies used by a bankrupt régime to secure financial resources by stealing from civilians.

 Expropriation has been a common practice with the Baathist Party ever since it took power in 1963. At the time it was part of a process of nationalisation and population control rather than the logic of redistribution, in keeping with the legacies of the Ottoman and French administrations. In 1983, Hafez Al-Assad carried on the use of it with the addition of a criterion of ‘public interest’, with a very vague definition which still benefits the régime. The Kurdish populations have borne the brunt of it.

 Since the outbreak of the 2011 revolution, Bashar Al-Assad’s government has passed 35 laws allowing the confiscation, expropriation and seizure of properties. These have been related to the fight against terrorism, to urban planning, to the control of informal settlements, to debt recovery, to the enforcement of military service, to farmland held in common and to property registries, they concern mainly the possessions of displaced persons and alleged political opponents.

 Decree 63 encased in 2012 and dealing with the fight against terrorism allows for the confiscation of the property of detainees as soon as a complaint has been lodged against them without due process of any kind. By extension, it authorises the expropriation and occupation of any abandoned home: an expatriation being considered by the régime as an admission of support for the opposition. Thus, any empty home runs the risk of being requisitioned by ordinary pro-régime civilians, encouraged grabbing the property of ‘traitors’, or else by government forces. In 2018 the complex and pernicious law no. 10 was passed, making it possible to expropriate the land belonging to Syrians who have fled the war. This compelled the legal arsenal of dispossession under the pretext of reconstruction. Many urban zones devastated by the war and inhabited by populations largely hostile to the régime are targeted today by new urban development plans.

 The law stipulates that when the requalification of a given zone has been announced, its inhabitants have a year to produce evidence of ownership of their land. A hypocritical deadline in a country where, even prior to the war, only half the land was declared; a country which today has millions of displaced persons within its borders and where half the human settlements are informal. When they are informed, can travel and possess a title deed, landowners may, after paying the intelligence services for a costly and hazardous procedure, obtain a ‘share’ of the renovated district, calculated based on the previous real estate value of the area.

 In the name of reconstruction, that law no. 10, widely denounced among the diaspora, makes it impossible for displaced persons or exiles to entertain any hope of return. Since then, the régime continually votes amendments and decrees allowing it to confiscate quite legally all the personal property and real estate of a population already bled dry. Thus, in 2019, amendment 39 allows the finance minister to order the confiscation without prior notice of all the property of anyone who has failed to carry out his military service by the age of 43, as well as that of his wife and children.



 These three examples out of 35 laws should serve to take the measure of this huge effort to dispossess citizens on a grand scale. Their belongings are then given over to high-ranking civil servants or sold to third parties. A report published in 2016 under the title Instrumentalisation of real estate and other properties in the Syrian civil war: How to facilitate restitution?’ tells how the empty homes are allocated to pro-régime occupants who receive new title deeds. A ‘spatial cleansing’ whose goal is to transform the country’s demographic structure and dissuade civilians from leaving their homes for fear of never being able to come back to them. Sometimes at great personal risk.

 Refugees tell how, with the arrival of new residents, especially from Iran, the names of certain streets have been changed. Seemingly a detail, but which means that the information on the title deeds of the legitimate owners is no longer valid, making even more difficult any attempt at recovery or restitution. Tracts of land and whole neighbourhoods are sold to foreign investors, mainly Russian, Chinese or Iranian. The profits to be made from reconstruction entice financiers who give the country’s destruction their blessing the better to speculate on its ruins.



 But the régime is not content to confiscate civilians’ possessions. It steals and loots into the bargain. It is this malfeasance that is analysed in detail in the SJAC report. By studying videos, photographs and aerial views taken in Daraya, Harasta, Yarmouk, Homs or Jarjanaz, by interviewing eyewitnesses and former soldiers, or by procuring documents from inside the Syrian bureaucracy, the ONG has arrived at the conclusion that government forces make a systematic practice of stealing houses and shops in the areas over which they regain control. In the 34th brigade, for example, notorious for its looting in Deraa, the loot is shared out in accordance with a well-oiled system. The electronic equipment is taken to the Masmiyah branch of military intelligence. The other possessions are offered to the commanding officer who takes his pick. Whatever is left over (furniture, home appliances, raw materials) is sold off elsewhere, on markets which people call ‘thieves’ markets’ or ‘Sunni markets’, referring to the presumed owners of the stolen goods. And what isn’t sold serves to furnish the ministerial offices or the hospitals under government control. And what is not stolen is destroyed.

 This scorched earth policy applies to the towns, the villages, and the houses, depriving civilians of everything that enables them to survive. Because of the theft of electric cables, houses are no longer heated. Because the refrigerators have been stolen, the food goes wrong. In many cases documented by SJAC, at Jarjanaz in particular, soldiers and militiamen remove the roofs of houses which are consequently exposed to the elements and become uninhabitable, and the raw materials are sold off. With no roof, no furniture, no household appliances, civilians are dehumanised, and many choose to leave. This looting is part of a tactic aimed both at chasing away opponents and enriching loyalists.

 The report is unequivocal: government forces and pro-Bashar militias are implicated in the entire process, from the looting to the resale. ‘The thieving is not the work of an opportunistic subset of military actors’. Quite the contrary. The evidence shows that the looters are stealing with the approval of their hierarchy if not under its direct supervision. While the report specifies that other warring parties have also carried out looting (of archaeological sites by the Islamic State Organisation, as a broad media coverage had shown), it cannot be compared with that organised by the régime to reinforce its control and crush the population.

 The matter of the return of the refugees is at the heart of the negotiations aimed at achieving a lasting peace and a political solution to the conflict based on UN resolution 2,254. However, all the observers are adamant: without a clear procedure for the restitution of the property of the 14 million displaced Syrians, there can be no serene return. The lesson to be learned from history is that property conflicts and continued displacements can only lead to more instability.

 Mazen Darwish repeated it at the Paris trial: justice is not revenge. On the contrary, it is a way of preventing it. This is a new challenge which the war in Syria is posing for the world in general and for international law courts in particular.'

Raising Alarms: Why Normalized Relations with Syria Risk Further Conflict

 

 'Over thirteen years, Bashar al-Assad's régime has committed numerous crimes against humanity in Syria, including the killing of civilians, and the displacement of inhabitants. Despite this, some Arab countries have normalized and resumed their political relations with Assad's régime, disregarding the potential consequences for the Syrian people, the Syrian state, the region, and the normalized countries themselves.

   For some Arab countries, the devastating earthquake that struck both Syria and Turkey in February 2023, provided an opportune moment to break the deadlock in relations with the Assad régime. The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia invited the president of the Syrian régime to officially participate in the Arab League Council summit in the Saudi Arabia in May 2023. Then, for the second time, Bashar al-Assad attended the Arab League summit in Bahrain in May 2024. According to some reports, the declared goals of normalization with the Syrian régime are threefold: first, to combat drug smuggling, especially Captagon pills, from Syria to the Gulf states; second, to limit Iranian encroachment in Syria; and third, to seek a political solution to the ongoing conflict in Syria. Jordanian Foreign Minister Ayman Al-Safadi, in justifying the Arab rapprochement with the Assad régime, cited the lack of “an effective strategy to resolve the Syrian conflict”.



 Since the announcement of the resumption of Arab relations with the Syrian régime, the Syrian régime has failed to fulfill its obligations to the Arab countries. Bashar al-Assad has failed to provide detailed lists of drug producers and exporters, as well as smuggling routes pertaining to the Captagon pill trade. Moreover, Bashar al-Assad has shifted blame onto Arab countries, stating, “Those who brought terrorism to Syria are the ones who brought drugs” It is evident that the régime has not, and likely will not, cease the Captagon pill trade. Firstly, it utilizes this trade as leverage for blackmail and political pressure against the countries of the region, particularly the Arab Gulf countries. Secondly, it has transformed the Captagon pill trade into a parallel economy that yields substantial profits for the Syrian régime, rendering abandonment unattainable. According to certain statistics, the Syrian régime’s revenue from the Captagon trade in 2023 reached $2.4 billion.



 Regarding Iranian influence, the indicators are that the Syrian régime is unable to curtail Iranian influence due to its reliance on Iranian support, primarily because Iran consistently emphasizes the necessity of Bashar al-Assad’s régime remaining in power, aligning with Iran’s strategic interests. These interests notably include controlling the land route connecting Iran and Lebanon through Iraq and Syria. Furthermore, Iranian infiltration within Syrian state institutions, the military, and the security apparatuses.

 Since the normalization of Arab relations with the Syrian régime, the presence of high-ranking Iranian leaders, particularly within the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps IRGC, has remained unabated on Syrian territory.

 This persistence was evident in Israel's ongoing targeting of these leaders, with the most recent incident being Israel's strike on the Iranian consulate building in Damascus in April 2024. This operation resulted in the deaths of prominent Iranian leaders from IRGC, notably General Mohammad Reza Zahedi and his deputy, Mohammad Rahimi, along with five other accompanying officers.



 The final motive behind normalization is to advance the political process. Since 2011 the Syrian régime has not actively participated in substantive negotiations. Instead, it has sought to prolong proceedings and overwhelm other parties with minutiae. The régime did not adhere to many regional and international initiatives such as: the Arab League initiative in 2012; Kofi Annan initiative, the One Geneva Statement of 2012; Geneva negotiations; and Astana talks. To this day, the régime obstructs the Constitutional Committee negotiations, primarily due to its objection, supported and instigated by Russia, to the choice of Geneva as the negotiation venue.

 Here, it is imperative to outline the primary indicators leading to a conclusion that the normalizing countries must acknowledge: the survival of the régime and its acceptance as an inevitable reality pose a direct danger and threat to the integrity of Syrian state, the Syrian people, and to the wider region.



 Syrians have become the most prominent asylum seekers in European Union countries, reaching a peak in 2023. According to UNHCR data, Syrians constitute approximately one-fifth of refugees globally. The Syrian forced-displaced population stands at 13.5 million, surpassing half of Syria's total population, with 6.8 million internally displaced persons.

 The European Union Asylum Agency (EUAA) provided a chart indicating a steady increase in Syrian refugee numbers reaching 181,000 by the end of 2023, marking a 38% rise from 2022.



 Syrians predominantly seek refuge in Europe, fleeing from various areas of control within Syria. In regions under régime control, the youth contend with the looming threats of arbitrary arrests, forced conscription, and economic instability, coupled with a dearth of job opportunities. Across the Al-Jazeera and Euphrates regions in eastern Syria, civilians residing on both riverbanks endure exceedingly harsh conditions. The primary demographic in these regions, Sunni Arabs, find themselves vulnerable to forced displacement and demographic manipulation, orchestrated by both the SDF and Iranian militias. These factions exert control over the two sides of Deir ez-Zor Governorate, separated by the Euphrates River. As a consequence, the original inhabitants of the governorate face involuntary displacement.

 The survival of Bashar al-Assad and his security apparatuses in power results in the survival of other de facto powers, ultimately leading to instability in Syria, division of Syria, a lack of a safe environment, and consequently, more refugees fleeing from Syria.



 Amidst the dire circumstances facing the Syrian people, UN special envoy for Syria Geir Pedersen in his briefing in April 2024, delivered a sobering message to the international community. He argued that:

 “… any temptation to ignore or merely contain the Syrian conflict itself would be a mistake. This is not a frozen conflict. Nor are its effects felt only in Syria. There are in fact no signs of calm in any of Syria’s theatres - only unresolved conflicts, bubbling violence, and sharp flares of hostilities, any of which could be the kindling for a new conflagration.”

 The most resounding message for countries contemplating normalizing relations with the Syrian régime is to refrain from triggering another war in Syria. Instead of pursuing normalization with the régime, the focus should be solely on intensifying political and diplomatic efforts to attain a just political solution and sustainable peace that safeguards all legitimate rights and aspirations of the Syrian people. This entails living in freedom, peace, security, and justice without the perpetrators of crimes against humanity. Such a solution represents the true guarantor of ending the protracted tragedy endured by the Syrian people for over thirteen years.

 Achieving this solution demands exerting greater pressure on the Syrian régime, rather than rewarding or normalizing relations with it. It also necessitates pressuring the régime's allies, Russia and Iran, to endorse a political resolution in line with UN resolutions, particularly Resolution 2254.

 Normalization with the Syrian régime may offer temporary calm in certain regions, a form of a “negative peace” However, this type of peace is illusory and conceals underlying dangers. While there may be a temporary lull in military activities, different dynamics are likely to emerge, potentially fueling a more violent and intense second wave of conflict. The repercussions of this renewed cycle of violence would be severe and devastating not only for Syria and its people but also for neighboring Arab countries, the international community, and the world at large. The events in Gaza in October 2023 serve as a poignant example and a lesson to be learned.'

Biden is letting Assad off the hook, with dangerous consequences

 

 Josh Rogin:

  'The world is teaching all dictators a lesson right now about how to commit crimes against humanity, escape accountability and eventually get accepted back into polite society. And the Biden administration is helping write that playbook — by tacitly allowing the normalization of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad.

 Thirteen years after the start of the Syrian revolution, Syria has been crowded out of Western media by newer crises. But Assad continues to commit war crimes and crimes against humanity, including bombing, jailing and torturing thousands of civilians, while actively working to further destabilize the Middle East in partnership with his benefactors Russia and Iran.

 As tensions with this autocratic axis rise, the United States and its allies ought to be holding the line on Syria. Instead, more and more countries, especially U.S. partners in the Persian Gulf, are welcoming Assad back into the diplomatic fold — lusting after lucrative contracts to rebuild the cities he destroyed.



 The Biden administration’s official policy is to oppose the normalization of Assad, chiefly through sanctions, until he stops the slaughter. But behind the scenes, the administration is quietly but deliberately loosening that pressure, according to lawmakers in both parties and Syrian American groups.

 “The forgotten war of this generation is really Syria,” Rep. Brendan Boyle (D-Pa.), co-founder of the Congressional Syria Caucus, told me. “I’m disgusted at the way so many in the Western world seem to have totally forgotten about the atrocities that have taken place there.”

 Boyle is a co-sponsor of the Assad Regime Anti-Normalization Act, the main effort in Congress to extend and expand sanctions against those who aid the régime’s rehabilitation, especially in Arab gulf countries. It would also impose sanctions on Assad’s parliament and the Syria Trust for Development, led by Assad’s wife, which stands accused of broad corruption and theft of international assistance. In February, it passed the House of Representatives 389-32.

 House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.) wanted to include this bill in the supplemental aid package that passed Congress last week. But in the course of negotiations, the White House objected, several lawmakers and congressional aides told me. The White House did not object to including other sanctions bills, including several targeting Iran.

 “The decision to remove this bipartisan legislation [from the supplemental package] is inexplicable,” Rep. Joe Wilson (R-S.C.), who introduced the bill told me. “The Biden administration’s failure to hold mass murderer Bashar al-Assad accountable empowers Putin and the Iranian régime.”

 “Congress has an obligation to move this legislation,” Risch told me. “Despite repeated requests, the administration and its partners on the Hill have repeatedly blocked efforts to hold Assad accountable.”



 A White House official told me the administration thinks it already has the tools it needs to go after Assad and his partners. The official also pointed to concerns by some international humanitarian organizations and experts, who have argued that the new sanctions could actually worsen the humanitarian situation inside Syria. (Several Syrian aid organizations dispute that claim.)

 Cardin’s office declined repeated requests for comment. But in a pretaped video for a conference being held Wednesday by Citizens for a Secure and Safe America, a leading Syrian American advocacy group, Cardin did say, “We must not allow Assad to erase his war crimes and normalize his relations with the international community.”

 Syrian Americans who have worked on the legislation are upset by what they see as the White House and Cardin’s office stalling the bill’s progress without publicly admitting as much. These groups say the legislation represents the best leverage available to secure some protection for Syrian civilians.

 “We in the Syrian American community are profoundly dismayed and deeply frustrated with the actions of the White House and Senator Cardin in obstructing this crucial human rights bill,” Mohammed Alaa Ghanem, policy chief for the American Coalition for Syria, an umbrella organization of Syrian activist groups, told me. “Our community will remember this as they head to the polls this November.”

 That Syrian Americans are even contemplating voting for former president Donald Trump illustrates how abandoned they feel. After all, Trump twice announced (and reversed) a decision to withdraw the remaining U.S. troops there, and he didn’t hide his disdain for Syria. What Trump might do in a second term is anybody’s guess.

 Sanctions are not a panacea. Ideally, they would be combined with a comprehensive strategy to negotiate a diplomatic resolution in Syria. But those who advocate letting the sanctions on Assad lapse must contend with the predictable consequences of that decision. Assad and his accomplices will get richer and more powerful. They will be emboldened in their abuses against their own citizens. Extremism and instability will grow regionwide.

 And lots of other dictators and gangsters committing crimes against humanity in places like Russia, China, Myanmar and Sudan will study the playbook the West helped Assad write: Ignore the criticism and wait for the world’s attention to wane. Eventually, even the United States will turn a blind eye to your atrocities.'

Anti-Assad Syrians lead protests against prison torture by rebel group

 

 'Despite the dangers of dissent, people in northwestern Syria have been taking to the streets in recent weeks to protest an armed group formed out of an al-Qaeda breakaway faction.

 The protests against Hay’et Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), which controls a large portion of Idlib province, began on February 25 in Sarmada, near the Syria-Turkey border.

 Prompted by the treatment of prisoners by the group’s security arm, the General Security Service (GSS), protesters carry banners calling HTS prisons “slaughterhouses”. Protests with hundreds of participants have now taken place across Idlib.

 In Binnish, 29-year-old Mohammed Ali Basha spent the night before an anti-HTS protest last week preparing flags and banners with his friends.

 The activist painted three red stars on the green, white and black backdrop of the Syrian opposition’s flag. A large banner being prepared displays the message Basha and his fellow protesters want to put across: that the Syrian revolution – which began in 2011 – is not just against the country’s President Bashar al-Assad, but against all “tyrants”.

 “All of them means all of them,” it says, a slogan long adopted by members of the Syrian opposition to indicate their opposition to autocrats of all persuasions. And for Basha, that includes HTS and its leader, Abu Mohamad al-Jolani.

 “Our protests against HTS resemble our early demonstrations against Bashar al-Assad and his régime because in both cases we have taken to the streets to denounce injustice and preserve our dignity and freedom,” Basha said. “Over the past few years, I have noticed the injustice practised against the people of the liberated areas [not controlled by al-Assad], and how the security branches affiliated with HTS have begun to commit the same criminal acts committed by al-Assad’s security forces, such as killing under torture and arbitrary detention.”



 Ahmad Alhakim said he knows all too well what can happen in an HTS prison. His brother, Abdulqadir, was tortured to death in one, he said.

 Abdulqadir, 27, a father of three and a fighter in the Jaish al-Ahrar opposition group, was arrested by HTS last year on charges of dealing with foreign powers.

 “They abducted my brother for 10 months without us being able to know his whereabouts, any information about him, or even appoint a lawyer to pursue his case,” Alhakim said.

 In mid-February, Alhakim was told by a released detainee that Abdulqadir had died after being tortured in prison. His death was confirmed to Jaish al-Ahrar by HTS on February 22.

 “We demanded that the General Security Service hand over my brother’s body, but they told us that they buried him and gave us the address of the burial place,” Alhakim said, describing it as a large trench where many bodies were buried – a mass grave. “There were many graves without names, only numbered.”



 It was Abdulqadir’s death that sparked the protest movement, which quickly spread to Idlib’s main towns.

 In Binnish the next day, Basha and his fellow activists took their banners and flags and headed to the town centre to join the few dozen people who had gathered.

 Much of the anger was directed towards the HTS leader al-Jolani, with protesters calling for his removal in areas controlled by HTS and its affiliated Salvation Government, and its replacement by an elected body.

 “The era of slavery and tyranny ended with the start of the Syrian revolution in 2011, and the Syrian people, after paying dearly to gain their freedom and dignity, will not allow it to be taken away from them,” Basha said.

 It is a brave stance to take. Idlib province largely remains under the control of Syrian opposition fighters, dominated by HTS after it gradually forced out other opposition factions and monopolised governance of the region.

 HTS – designated a “terrorist” group by the European Union, Turkey and the United States – formed in 2017 as an alliance of several factions opposed to al-Assad in the country’s ongoing war. The principal force in the alliance was Jabhat Fateh al-Sham, formerly an affiliate of al-Qaeda known as the Nusra Front.

 HTS has attempted to rebrand itself over the years, severing ties with al-Qaeda and portraying itself as a more moderate group with local aims, with al-Jolani even going as far as to give an interview to US media outlet PBS.

 It became the most powerful rebel group in northwestern Syria but opposition to its rule is increasing, with activists deeming it vital to break the silence over the group’s violence and grip on security.

 At an event in Idlib city, 30-year-old activist Abdulrahman, who did not wish to give his full name, reiterated the movement’s demands.

 “We want the release of all prisoners of conscience, the disclosure of the fate of those missing in the prisons, and dissolving and restructuring the General Security Service,” he said.

 As an initial response to the protests, HTS held meetings – chaired by al-Jolani – between ministers in the Salvation Government and community elites and village elders who presented the protesters’ demands and received promises to fulfil them.

 “The protests … in the streets against Hay’et Tahrir al-Sham and the Salvation Government are natural and we do not view them in any other context,” said the HTS media office. “We’re confident that those who work make mistakes and all protests aim to correct these mistakes that have recently transpired.”

 HTS said the protesters’ demands were complex and resolving them would require some time. For example, it said, wider participation in the group’s leadership Shura Council would take time to recruit community representatives from different areas.

 Anti-HTS protests have continued in Idlib despite these attempted assurances. However, as of yet, there have been no confirmed reports of protesters being detained by HTS.



 On July 16 of last year, the GSS announced that it had dismantled a spy cell working for Russia, the Syrian government and the US, leading to the arrest of several security personnel and leaders within its ranks, notably Abu Maria al-Qahtani – a Shura Council member considered al-Jolani’s number two.

 He was acquitted and released earlier this month along with other security personnel, although it is unclear whether he continues to hold a leadership role.

 “The popular movement today in Idlib is partly due to internal disagreements within Hay’et Tahrir al-Sham, meaning that conflicting parties within the organisation incite their supporters to participate in these protests,” Wael Alwan, a Syrian affairs specialist at the Jusoor Center for Studies, said.

 “The second part of the movement consists of people who are taking advantage of the opportunity, whether they are social extensions of previous factions that the organisation has targeted, or they are people who have been greatly affected by the General Security Service and the organisation’s security grip,” Alwan said.

 Alwan said that HTS has to placate the popular movement by accommodating its demands as well as making and implementing promises, because putting the protests down by force is not an option, as that would only escalate protests and opposition.

 “Perhaps HTS is betting on reconsolidating itself and regaining its centrality and its ability to solve internal problems, and then it may consider returning to … harsh security,” Alwan said.

 But ultimately, for activists organising against HTS, their protests are a risk. The group is not known for its tolerance towards dissent, and many fear that it will eventually crack down on the demonstrations.

 For Basha, that is still not enough to deter him.

 “Since I joined the first protest against HTS, I knew that I might be arrested or even killed, but when I saw that the number of protesters was increasing with each passing day, nothing frightened me anymore,” he said.

 “My family are the ones who encourage me to always defend the truth and not remain silent against injustice committed by any party – no matter the cost.” '

As the revolution in Syria enters its 14th year, free Syrians are waiting for the spark to reignite

 

 

    Dr Amira Abo el-Fetouh:

 'The Syrian revolution has just entered its fourteenth year. The Arab Spring revolutions swept across the Arab world and broke out in Syria on 15 March, 2011. Had it not been for Russia’s intervention, the Syrian dictator Bashar Al-Assad would have been overthrown. He preferred Syria to fall into the clutches of the Russian occupation than for himself to join the tyrants Hosni Mubarak, Muammar Gaddafi and Ali Abdullah Saleh in Egypt, Libya and Yemen respectively.

 Assad was not the only regional dictator fearing for his position; all the Arab kings and princes trembled with him. They all feared that the demand for freedom, dignity and democracy would inspire their own people, and they too would be overthrown. Some of them have now allied themselves with the Zionist enemy. The occupation state of Israel was also disturbed by the revolutions in neighbouring states, whose rulers guarded its borders. That is why the UAE became the epicentre of the counter-revolutions against the Arab Spring. The hope-filled Spring turned into violent autumn, especially in Syria, Libya and Yemen, terrorising protesters and those even thinking about demands for freedom, dignity and democracy.

 Saudi Arabia and the UAE stood against the will of the people and supported the tyrannical rulers, even in Syria, which has witnessed the greatest Arab revolution ever. Never in history has a nation made the sacrifices that the Syrian people have made when everyone teamed up against them. The hyenas of the world mauled Syria’s wounded body, cut off what they could for themselves, and fled with their spoils, leaving Syria drowning in its people’s blood.

 The Syrian revolution was abandoned by those who called themselves “friends of Syria” but instead took their share of the spoils. The Syrians should have stuck by their initial claim: “We have no one but you, O Allah” and not hand themselves over to countries that claimed to support them and supported them with money and weapons until it was clear that they were prisoners of their own fortune and forced to carry out their “friends’” orders. Such countries betrayed Syria and stopped their support, giving priority to regional interests.



 I have said since the beginning of the Arab Spring that the problem of the Arab revolutions was the lack of credible Arab leadership possessing the means and characteristics that would allow it to rally the masses in managing the revolutions, ensuring their success and creating a new, fairer governance system. These revolutions had no legitimate father figure, so everyone claimed that they were that person, leading to damaging infighting.

 The Syrian revolution began in Daraa in south-west Syria, when a number of boys wrote revolutionary slogans, heard when being chanted elsewhere, on the walls of their schools. The Assad régime went crazy; its security forces attacked Daraa and arrested the boys, all of whom were under 13 years old, and tortured them. They were electrocuted and beaten with electric cables; their fingers were cut off, as were their genitals to break their spirit of manhood and strength. The régime forgot that maleness and masculinity are two different things. Fourteen years after being exiled from Daraa, those boys are strong men defending Idlib, the only liberated area of Syrian land, against the oppression of the régime and the Russian occupation.

 When the boys’ families went to the security services to ask about their children, they were insulted, humiliated and thrown out. “Forget about them and have other children,” they were told, “and if you’re unable to, the security will take over the task.”



 The parents were shocked by this response, so they demonstrated against the security forces, and were joined by hundreds of people. Then thousands. The régime responded with live fire, killing dozens. Daraa rose up en masse against the Assad régime, demanding its overthrow. The régime responded to this by besieging the city, but people from neighbouring towns and villages broke the siege.

 Hundreds were arrested, including Hamza Al-Khatib, 13. His body was eventually handed over to his family, and it had clear evidence of torture and the bullets he had been shot with. His neck was broken, and his body was mutilated, with his genitals cut off. Photographs were circulated on the Internet and shocked millions of Syrians. Many took to the streets in massive demonstrations, in solidarity with this child who was betrayed. The demonstrations spread from the capital, Damascus, to Aleppo, Homs, Hama and other Syrian cities. Hamza Al-Khatib became the icon of the Syrian revolution that toppled statues of the murderer Bashar Al-Assad and his father. The people tore up their pictures, trampled on them and burned them.

 The security forces were unable to disperse the demonstrations despite firing volley after volley of bullets at the crowds. That’s when the army went in with its tanks and armoured vehicles. Thousands of martyrs fell. The initially peaceful protests turned into an armed revolution to defend the people of Syria.



 The régime “planted” weapons in front of homes, on the streets, and in cafes to incriminate people, and they released convicted Islamists from prison in order to transform the nature of the revolution. Suddenly, the uprising turned into a “war on terrorism”; those leading the demonstrations were described as “terrorists”; and countries stood in sympathy with the murderous Assad régime.

 Nothing grabs the attention and support of the West than the dog-whistle allegation of “terrorism”. The régime initially sought help from Hezbollah militias and some Shia militias in Iraq and Afghanistan in its war against its own people. When that wasn’t enough, the Quds Force of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, led by Qasem Soleimani, entered Syria and burned and destroyed entire villages, killed thousands of Syrians, and displaced thousands of Sunni Muslims. Soleimani basically turned the revolution into a Sunni-Shia war, but was unable to suppress it. It was the Russian intervention that turned the tide in Assad’s favour, with its aircraft and missiles implementing a scorched earth policy that it had used in Chechnya. The régime used chemical weapons against the Syrian people and dropped barrel bombs on their heads.

 Eventually, the liberated cities began to fall one after another. The régime which had once controlled just 20 per cent of Syria now controlled about 80 per cent. The revolution was confined to Idlib, and revolutionaries from other cities flocked there after international interventions, understandings and agreements between Russia and Turkiye. However, Idlib has not yet been spared from the crimes of Bashar’s militias and the ongoing Russian raids despite such agreements.

 More than two million Syrians have been martyred, and 10 million have been displaced, many from their homeland altogether.

 The Syrian revolution exposed the treachery and betrayal of those closest to it, but the story is not complete; no ending has been written yet. Revolutions, like wars, have many twists and turns until the decisive hour strikes and the curtain falls. Do not be deceived by the butcher Assad remaining president. The flame of the revolution is burning in the conscience of every free Syrian, waiting for the moment for it to reignite on the ground.'

‘Authorities fear us’: Syrian women activists vow to continue revolting no matter the consequences

 ' “We’ve broken the barrier of fear… we’re not afraid anymore,” Syrian women activists say, as they reflect on the past 13 years of ongoing oppression in their homeland.

 Since 15 March 2011, Syrians have been living under the brutal bombardment of the Assad régime, which cracked down on peaceful pro-democracy protestors and continues to threaten those who dare to stand against it.

 The war has resulted in the displacement of over 13 million Syrians, the detention of tens of thousands of civilians, and over 500,000 deaths, the majority of which are at the hands of the Syrian régime and its Russian ally.



 Despite the immense losses suffered, women across the country have courageously assumed the roles of changemakers, advocates and leaders, as they work to rebuild their communities, advocate for peace and demand freedom for their people.

 “A lot of women have assumed positions of responsibility. Today, I don’t just carry the weight of my own responsibilities, I make important decisions and bear their consequences,” Zahra, an activist, teacher and social worker from Raqqa, said.

 During the war, the teacher felt called to create an empowering safe space and support system for women, following traumatic experiences they had endured during the ongoing war.

 So, she co-founded For Feminism, an organisation based in her hometown Raqqa, dedicated to supporting women and enhancing their skills, to enable them to contribute to their communities, “feel their value” and “believe they can make a difference.”

 “We’d hold sessions for women to share and let their feelings out. We aimed to talk about all women’s issues, including laws, our protection, and rights.”



 Zahra faced “difficult decisions” when deciding which responsibilities to assume. ISIS took over her hometown Raqqa from 2013 to 2017, and some women from the city married extremist fighters during the time, “due to difficult life circumstances”, as “many were forced against their will,” Zahra said.

 Upon their release from ISIS-controlled camps – which they left without their missing, or deceased, husbands – Zahra knew that the “vulnerable” women would “no longer be accepted by society.”

 She decided to extend her work to them, by hosting wellbeing sessions for psychological support, despite knowing many within her community would reject such an idea.

 “It was a difficult decision, of course, society didn’t accept ISIS and wouldn’t accept [the women who married them]… but women have been the largest victims of oppression during the war… and desperately need help… including those who made big mistakes,” she said.



 ISIS also banned education during their rule over Raqqa, so on top of the already heavy burden of war, Zahra was challenged with the task of home-schooling her children, which she bore the fruits of years later when her daughter entered medical school.

 Zahra’s commitment to activism and social work – which she also practised by teaching in UNICEF schools post ISIS’ domination of Raqqa – has also been mirrored by women alike across the country.



 “The presence of women in activism is very important. A woman conveys voices. She is a mother, a sister, a wife, the family, she is the society to me,” Lubna, an activist from Suweida, said.

 Lubna is deeply involved in local revolutionary activities, as she works alongside activist groups created for women, such as Sayedat Al-Hirak, and mixed activist groups, including Shabab Soriya Al-Ahrar.

 She, too, emphasised that “women have had a huge part to play in protests and activism”, but highlighted that this has not come without its struggles.

 “The Syrian woman has gone through a lot. She suffered oppression from the régime, and from society. The worst types of torture and insults were thrown on women in prisons,” she said.

 “The régime knows the importance of women’s involvement in the revolution, and as a result, they have tried to silence society through women,” Lubna stated.

 The activist says that the forces have weaponised both societal fears surrounding the protection of women and notions of “shame”, playing on conservative attitudes present in the country, in a bid to stop women from protesting.

 Societal fears come from knowing women could be “vulgarly insulted” or even sexually assaulted in prisons if they were arrested following their activism.

 Such instances could result in the woman affected becoming stigmatised by society, where it is highly probable “people would look at her with pity, or that her life would be considered over”, Lubna said.

 As a result, women have often been advised to, or felt that they should, refrain from participating in the revolution “to avoid bringing harm to themselves, or shame to their family”.



 Destigmatising such cases has also been employed within art activism across the country and among the Syrian diaspora.

 Damascene artist Dima Nashawi, who left Syria to live in Lebanon in 2013, utilised her creative talents to illustrate Syrian struggles, “preserve parts of our narrative, and pursue our dream of changing the country”.

 The artist, who also worked in social care with the UNHCR, has created illustrations calling “for the freedom of detainees, the destigmatisation of female detainees” and has written plays focusing on displacement.

 “It became an urgent need to express my feelings in light of the difficult events in my country… and to stand up to narratives that stereotyped the Syrian revolution,” Dima said.

 “Women were targeted, raped, stigmatised, ostracised, killed… female detainees have been rejected by their circles because of stigmas surrounding honour,” she added.



 The artist highlighted the case of Heba Haj Aref – an activist who was found dead in her home in rural Aleppo last month after receiving threats over her work – as just one example of countless violations against Syrian women who are simply demanding freedom.

 “Authorities are afraid of brave women who confront them… they are afraid of her strength, and her ability to create change, so they threaten her or simply kill her,” she says.

 Dima believes the traumatic experiences endured by Syrian women have “caused a shift, redefined women’s personalities and led many to become inspiring influential voices in defending women’s and human rights” within Syria and across the diaspora.



 Despite the pain and trauma Syrian women have patiently endured, many remain set on continuing their fight for freedom and peace, regardless of the consequences, due to their firm belief that their cause will see victory.

 “People might think we’re seeing dreams, but revolutions have always seen pain… continued fight will be what allows us to win, we will continue peacefully for the sake of our peace,” Lubna said with clear confidence and certainty.

 “The amount of time it takes is not important,” she added, emphasising “our cause is a cause of truth and it’s right”.

 “Those who are righteous may face oppression, being killed, being displaced, they may face a lot of pain, but they are the standing on the right side. They aren’t afraid… and for that, they will be victorious.” '

Thirteen Years Later, Syrian War Still Rages

 

 'For families on the frontline, the end is nowhere in sight.

 "The bombing is always ongoing; every hour, every minute, all the time, " says Khaledia Sakahi, a displaced woman. "If it is not on our village, the bombing will be near it. The villages around us are also being bombed.I can't count them all. But the bombing continues, morning and night, and death, as I told you, many people die."

 In Idlib, emergency workers say the death toll in their region is rising.

 "The statistics for the year 2023 were more than 1230 attacks, with more than 170 killed and 300 injured," says Yassin Khader of the Syrian Civil Defence. "In the last half of 2023, there was an intense and continuous attack on the southern areas."

Commanders of rebels who control Idlib say, they are not just planning to defend the area they currently control. "We did not set out to establish a state in Idlib," says Muhammad al-Bakour, a field commander for Hayat Tahrir al-Sham, "and the revolution continues until Assad is held accountable. There is no revolutionary project that stops at Idlib."

 Today, nearly 17 million people in Syria need aid. The most since the war began. Violence, and a lack of basic services like water or electricity, are forcing people to flee their homes again and again.

'As for the rest, such as services, there is nothing available at all," says Khaledia Sakahi. "Everyone is self-reliant. Some people collect firewood, and others do other things, just to survive."

 She says she believes the Syrian war may continue indefinitely, and there is very little hope access to aid will improve.'

 

From Syria to NI: ‘I haven’t seen my son in 13 years... he will be killed if we aren’t reunited’

 

 'Ali’s cat Rocky slinks along the windowsill. Behind him, the window looks out onto a quiet, residential street. Storm Jocelyn’s approach is just starting to move the bushes in the garden.

 He hands me his phone to look at a photograph. A young couple. Three smiling children. The man in the picture is his son Zayan.

 Ali (55) hasn’t seen his son in almost 13 years, and that wait could become interminable soon.

 Both names are pseudonyms, chosen to protect their safety; they are still fearful of reprisals in the Middle East.

  Zayan (29) is facing deportation from Lebanon – where he and his family currently live – back to their native Syria after he was given 28 days’ notice to leave. He has less than three weeks left.

 Thousands of miles away in Northern Ireland, his father is a world away from the horror that began to unfold in his home city of Homs in 2011.



 Inspired by the so-called Arab Spring risings that swept across Middle East, Syrian youths in Daraa scrawled graffiti criticising Bashar al-Assad’s régime on the wall.

 They were arrested, held and tortured, prompting a wave of protest that drew a military backlash.

 "Everything was normal until the revolution started,” Ali said.

 "It was like an earthquake. People got mad, got crazy. I always think that violence affected these people and turned them into monsters, or devils. There was an army checkpoint close to my home. There were clashes and bombing from evening until morning. I moved my family to the town where my wife’s family were, because around my home began to get very dangerous.”

 By 2012, opposition groups had formed rebel brigades to seize cities in the north.

 Lebanon’s Hezbollah would openly deploy fighters in 2013 to supress the uprising, while Iran dispatched military advisors to prop up the al-Assad government.

 As the situation worsened, Ali sent his family to Lebanon, promising he would follow soon, but he would not see his family for another four years.



 Militias surrounded the town and laid siege to it, with only sporadic United Nations aid being allowed in.

 "I never thought I would live the way we lived. Groups of armed people started to defend their families,” said Ali.

 "Every town, guys started to carry guns to defend themselves and their families because they knew that when the régime entered the town, they would rape, steal and kill.

 "People would rather die than face the torturing. You saw pictures of people in prison without eyes, without nails."



 Ali said the cries of hunger from sick, traumatised children continue to haunt him to this day. "We had little food, no medicine. There were 120,000 people in the town. Every few months the UN was entering with some cars of food, but there wasn’t enough,” he said.

 "I did not think I would survive the bombing at night. The shooting, the snipers. The planes. Barrel bombings. For four years, I always felt hungry. I will never forget the weeping of the children and the kids because of the fear and hunger. I still hear them now when I am alone. I can hear their voices and their weeping from the hunger. There are pictures stuck in my mind. A child of six or seven years old licking a photograph of a pizza on a wall. The restaurant was closed, but because of the hunger he was licking this picture. Children were knocking my door and saying they were hungry."



 After four years, the siege was eventually lifted after negotiations between the UN, the al-Assad régime and representatives of the town.

 Ali boarded a UN convoy bound for Idlib, close to the border with Turkey, which he crossed safely two days later. His thoughts turned immediately to his family, but it would be a further three years of agony until he laid eyes on them again.

 Ali struggled to bring his family to Turkey with him, eventually finding some success through the UN and ultimately, the UK Government.

 A third country resettlement was agreed; that country was Northern Ireland. Ali remembers the date clearly.



 "We arrived here on February 7 2019. I left Turkey that morning and my wife and children came after me about two hours later,” he said.

 "I met them at the airport; it was like a dream. When I saw them, I realised then that the most beautiful moments in my life had been lost. I didn’t see my children grow up. My wife was very sick and my other son (Zayan) could not come.”

 That moment is now five years ago.

 Unaware of a new law preventing Syrians from working Lebanon, Zayan was working in a clothing shop, still trying to raise money to support his young family.

 His papers were seized, leaving his future in limbo. The documents were later returned, but along with a 28-day notice to leave Lebanon.



 Ali said the news was akin to a death sentence.

 "I am sure that if the government send them back, the régime will kill them. Most of my family is in opposition [to Assad],” he said.

 "I can’t explain how scared we are. My wife and I are always crying. When anyone from the family sends a message on WhatsApp and it is not received, it is a terrible feeling.

 "We are always worried until he replies on the message. His daughter is seven years old now. When he goes out to buy food she hugs him tight and says: ‘Please father, don’t go anywhere, I am afraid’.



 "Many times I have prayed to God to take me. I can’t stand any more. I just want to see my son and his family in a safe place.” Zayan has completed an initial resettlement interview with the UN, who are aware he has family in the UK.

 Ali is praying he will be called for a second interview before time runs out on his time in Lebanon.

 He wants nothing more than to see the family united in Northern Ireland, somewhere he now calls home.

 "Here, no one calls my son a refugee. Here, they don’t believe we are strangers or unwanted people at all. Here, my family don’t sleep in parks because they haven’t money. Here, my family didn’t go hungry,” he said.

 "Everything I wanted – to see my wife and children happy – is here. The only thing I need now is to see my son before I die, or before my wife dies.'

'We were attacked by missiles, by bombs, simply because we were treating casualties'

 

 ' “Imagine yourself operating on a patient when you are being attacked by barrel bombs and missiles. Your hands are shaking, the hospital is shaking, soil could go in the patient’s wounds while you are operating and then you have to wait a while until the strike stops and carry on.”

 These days, Dr Ayman Alshiekh, 38, is a surgeon in an immaculate, state-of-the-art hospital in Manchester city centre. But only a few years ago, the doctor was facing the unthinkable – trying to save lives in a bloody field hospital in Syria, being hunted by a brutal régime.



 Ayman spent his childhood in his beloved home country of Syria, one of the world’s most ancient centres of culture. Attending primary school, he dreamed of becoming a doctor, understanding from the beginning that he was called to come to the aid of those in need.

 From his primary school days, he excelled in sciences, working hard to get the grades to pursue an education in medicine. Ayman graduated from the University of Aleppo in 2010 and started his training in vascular surgery in Damascus.



 But by 2011, Syria was not a peaceful place to call home anymore. Protests began in March of that year, amid shoots of hope that the country’s authoritarian ruler Bashar al-Assad might be overthrown.

 Ayman was among the young people taking part in what has since become known as the Arab Spring, where protests for a move to democracy spread across the region to the likes of Libya, Egypt, Yemen and Bahrain. But the dictator responded with a campaign of violence and terror against those pleading for a fairer world.

 In the middle of his third year of training, Ayman was forced to abandon his studies. Ayman suddenly found himself at the heart of a revolution and began work as a war surgeon in a field hospital.

 “Our hospitals were always a magnet for attacks. We were attacked by missiles, by bombs, simply because we were treating casualties,” he said.



 “That was considered a crime by the régime. Due to the siege, no medical supplies could get into Aleppo. We had to make do with what we had. When you are a war surgeon in Aleppo, the most important thing is saving lives. Everything else comes second.”

 Ayman pledged that he would use his medical training to help those being hunted by the Syrian government, who were having to go underground for daring to question the régime. Many of them suffered horrific injuries amid brutal reprisals after protesting the government, leading to the creation of secret, makeshift hospitals.

 Despite his lifesaving work, the régime then turned on Ayman. He says: "I was one of the protesters as well, but I actually didn't expect that the government would start shooting at us, firing directly at our chests, towards us.

 I felt that it was my duty to help these demonstrators because they couldn't go to the government hospitals. They would be arrested - and maybe killed - even in hospital, because the government does not respect a hospital as a special place where people should be treated irrespective of political opinions. In Syria, the government attacked them, killed them, tortured them, arrested them. Many of my colleagues and fellow students started to treat patients in underground hospitals, hidden from the security forces of the Assad régime.

 Because of that, some of my colleagues were arrested. Under torture, unfortunately, they named us. Then I became a wanted person for the régime because I was just treating those demonstrators and protesters. I was doing my job.”

 Ayman often felt helpless as he watched people arrive at hospital, unable to be saved. He could do nothing but stand by as ‘security forces came to the hospital and arrested them while they were bleeding’.

 “We finished one man’s operation, and security forces were standing in front of the theatre room,” said the doctor.

 “When we wanted to take him to the ICU after five hours of operation, they took his trolley and then took him away. Where? We don't know. We needed to help keep them away from the eyes of the security forces because it's our duty to care for our people and our patients irrespective of political opinions. When you save others you don't care about your life sometimes, because it's our duty to rescue all people who need us.”



 Aleppo was known around the world for its beautiful heritage sites, which have been razed to the ground in the turmoil of a devastating civil war of attrition. The years wore on and Ayman found joy in a life cursed by conflict on his doorstep – marriage and a family - but that brought new fears.

 “In the first two or three years of the revolution, I didn’t have a family. I put myself more at risk because I was by myself,” Ayman said.

 “In 2015, I had my son, so then I had responsibilities for my family. I stayed in Aleppo and we were under siege by the Syrian military forces, Russian forces and Iranian forces.

 We stayed under siege for almost six months, with daily bombardment from bombs, air strikes, rockets, and no access to any drugs, medication, food at all.

 After that, we were forcibly displaced out of Aleppo. I went to Idlib, another province in Syria, and I worked there in another hospital for almost an additional year.”

 Around 15 months later, he had a daughter. “I started to feel that I couldn’t sacrifice myself, I had a wife and two kids. The Assad gang, with the help of Russian and Iranian forces, were taking areas and I was scared to be under siege again now that I had a family.”



 The doctor managed to get his family asylum in Turkey – while he stayed behind in Syria continuing to save lives.

 “When the barrel bombs started to fall over us in 2014, I was already working in a field hospital and I couldn't concentrate on treating people because I was always thinking about my family. When I moved them to Turkey, I could at least concentrate on my job,” said Ayman.

 After years on the frontline, Ayman faced his options – stay in Syria and be killed by an airstrike on his hospital, or be killed by the régime for helping the opposition. He was forced to flee and, unable to apply for a visa and wait for the result under the constant threat of death, Ayman attempted the dangerous journey as a refugee across Europe.

 Aiming for the UK as a safe haven, he knew the journey would be treacherous, but there were too many stories of refugees being caught and ‘assassinated’ by Syrian authorities on the continent to stay in mainland Europe. Ayman struggled to speak about this part of his story. It’s just too traumatic, he says.

 He arrived at the end of 2018 ‘in the back of a lorry’ with little money and very few possessions.

 “I faced even more danger than I had in Syria, the journey was difficult. I claimed asylum. Six months later, I was granted refugee status, thankfully,” said Ayman.



 After an incredible, terrifying life in Syria and journey to the UK, in his mid-30s, Ayman settled in Manchester. One day in the future, Ayman hopes to return to his homeland. He said: “I want to help my people there and help rebuild our health system from everything I have learned here.” '