Wednesday, 24 March 2021

The cradle of Syria's revolution: Daraa ten years on

 

 'Last week, hundreds of Syrians gathered in front of the al-Omari mosque in Daraa, a city in the country's south bordering Jordan. Chants for solidarity and the revolution rang out as demonstrators marked the tenth year of the deadly conflict in Syria.

 Daraa occupies a unique role in the story of Syria's war. It was there, in March 2011, where what began as a localised protest became the 'spark' that ignited the revolution in Syria.

 A decade ago, the scene at the al-Omari mosque was much bloodier. The people of Daraa had been protesting against the régime for exactly one week when, on 23 March, they met at the mosque and local security forces stormed the area. In the aftermath, dozens of bodies littered the street.

 Word of local unrest made its way up to Damascus, where Assad faced a choice: offer concessions to pacify the local population or hand them the fist. He chose the latter, and that decision signalled an escalation that propelled the country into a decade of war and destruction.

 Today, the province remains an outlier among territories recaptured or reconciled with the régime. Its surrender in July 2018 was not the end of resistance in Daraa, and the area remains an open threat to Assad.


 It took seven years for the régime to eventually retake Daraa. In June 2018 Assad redeployed the military to the south, breaking the de-escalation zone brokered between the US, Russia and Jordan in 2017. 

 Members of the Southern Front, the southwest's anti-régime coalition, had been holding out for Western intervention until they received a text from Washington officials. "You should not base your decisions on the assumption or expectation of a military intervention by us," it read. They were alone.

 Throughout the summer of 2018 the régime launched a devastating air bombardment campaign with Russian assistance that displaced more than 270,000 civilians. Tens of thousands fled the city to nearby borders, which remained shut as Assad closed in. 

 Ayman Safadi, Jordan's foreign minister, reiterated that the kingdom would not open its borders to Daraa's displaced, saying, "We are at capacity." By August, opposition leaders were meeting with Moscow representatives to negotiate the terms of surrender. 

 Russian officials, acting as intermediaries between the rebels and the régime, offered the opposition pardons in exchange for their dismantlement and surrender of heavy weapons.

 Many agreed to integrate with the Moscow-backed 5th Corps, a security body separate from the central Syrian Arab Army (SAA). Within the 5th Corps the majority of former rebels belong to the 8th Brigade, whose theatre of operations remains uniquely local. In addition to rooting out extremists in the area the 8th Brigade acts as a sort of local security force.

 The terms of the province's surrender has allowed the population to remain politically active, and western Daraa in particular operates with some degree of local autonomy. This deal, argue Jomana Qaddour and Abdulrahman al-Masri, was never intended to be a long-term measure. "Localized governance will only increase resistance to Assad's intended return," they write.


 Daraa remains a symbol, the "cradle," of Syria's revolution, and its unique position in the history of the devastating war is not forgotten by its people. Assad has pragmatic reasons for wanting to secure Daraa as well: it sits along Jordan's northern border, where the Nasib crossing is a key trading point for Syria.

 As the régime's 2018 battle for Daraa was underway real concerns were raised by observers that the presence of Iranian forces would inevitably see Israeli intervention. From there, a major escalation between Israel and Iran would certainly be conceivable.

 While it is too soon to determine the longevity of Iran's presence there, it is notable that Daraa's citizens have resisted Tehran's greater ambitions in the area. 

 "The ambitions of Iran and Hezbollah in Daraa have also been met with growing civilian resistance manifested in increasingly frequent protests and graffiti across the governorate," writes Abdullah al-Jabassini, a Non-Resident Scholar at the Middle East Institute. 


 Reconciliation was never synonymous with peace, and, since 2020 especially, Daraa has seen increased violence from the various actors seeking influence there. This includes tensions between the reconciled former opposition that have integrated with state forces, unreconciled opposition members, régime security forces, and Iranian and Russian forces.

 "The régime's return to Daraa is nominal at best," said Abdulrahman al-Masri, a non-resident fellow at the Atlantic Council. 

 The 2018 deal stipulated a return of state services to the area, a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Nearly two years after "reconciliation" and one year into a deadly pandemic, many of Daraa's citizens lack access to sufficient health services. 

 Researcher Abdullah al-Jabassini has reported that a minimum of 425 instances of violence occurred in Daraa between August 2018 and March of last year, with the majority of incidences linked to the régime. In about the same time period, citizens held more than 60 protests across the province calling for the release of detainees.

 Put together, the competing factions operating in Daraa today present a real risk for a "relapse into armed violence," al-Jabassini describes in a report for the European University Institute.

 Discontent remains rife among citizens who feel that the régime has, two years later, yet to fulfil the obligations set by the reconciliation deal. Not unlike the environment in 2011, protesters today call for the release of detainees held by the state, improved economic conditions, and the stable delivery of state services.

 "The people are adamant on what they have pretty much started ten years ago," al-Masri says. "The population itself isn't one that you can subdue easily."

 But in the absence of a central authority, Daraa is plagued with "rising lawlessness" marked by inter-tribal disputes and civilian protests. As Assad seeks to further consolidate gains, unrest in Daraa may soon invite a military response.

 The Assad régime knows that the current situation is hardly a long-term solution. Damascus cannot claim true victory in the Syrian war until it has returned the country to pre-2011 conditions. Until then, resistance within Daraa will remain an open threat to the régime.'




Syria will never be safe under Assad

  Kholoud Helmi:

 'When I heard Denmark had declared parts of Syria ‘safe’, I thought about what would happen if I returned to the country of my birth. I am sure that if I did, I would immediately be taken to prison and disappeared like hundreds of thousands of Syrians. Or I might be tortured to death. Because ten years after the conflict in Syria began, the Assad régime is still in power.

 I come from the city of Darayya, which is about 20 minutes outside of Damascus. When I was growing up, if you criticised as much as the power shortages, you could end up in prison. In 2003, some of my friends organised a campaign against littering because the streets were filthy and posed with mops and brooms. They were arrested by the régime and held for three years.

 You couldn’t even organise a wedding without getting permission from the security services. When peaceful demonstrations against the régime began in March 2011, they happened after Friday prayers — because that was the only time people were allowed to gather.

 At first, the army used rubber bullets against the protests. Then they used live rounds. I will never forget how, in April 2011, we began to see tanks at the entrance of our city and were told we weren’t allowed to leave. In August 2012, the army raided the city and killed over 1,000 people over three nights. They slaughtered men in front of their mothers and wives. I saw this with my own eyes.



 The Assad régime and its Russian allies bombarded rebel-held towns. Still, although I was afraid for the lives of my parents and my brothers and sisters, I didn’t leave home. I only left when the régime arrested three of my friends as I was walking to join them. By mere chance, I called the first of those friends and they used a secret word meaning ‘it’s over’ to warn me before it was too late. These three friends were held in prison for nearly a year.

 After that, I couldn’t stay. I became what international organisations call an ‘internally displaced person’, moving from farmhouse to farmhouse to evade the régime. Finally, I made it out of Syria in 2013, first to Lebanon, then Egypt, before moving on to Turkey. I sought refuge in the UK two years ago and have been campaigning on behalf of victims of the Assad régime since 2011.

 So no, refugees don’t only flee bombardment and war. They flee persecution, arbitrary detention and tyranny. They flee when they see their friends arrested and neighbours murdered.



 Syria isn’t safe — not for opponents of the government. My brother remains detained in Syria, along with 100,000 others, 85 per cent of which are held in the Assad régime’s jails. 

 This year marks the 70th anniversary of the UN Refugee Convention, which defines a refugee as someone with ‘a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion’.

 Actions like that of Denmark show that the definition of ‘refugee’ is under threat. It seems the international community thinks because the war in Syria is over, it is a place that is ready for refugees to return to. I wish.'