Two years ago, no one expected the string of revolutions in the Middle East to spread to Syria. President Bashar al-Assad was well-liked among the Arabs as one of the few leaders to espouse and promote the cause of Arab nationalism — even though we now realize it was empty rhetoric. He stood up against the West, ensured Syria remained a stable, safe country (due to his tight grip), and Syria’s economy wasn’t too bad — no one really had complaints of him. Having gone to Syria, I knew no one could complain. The dreaded, omnipresent Mukhabarat (an intelligence agency known for its secret police) has been feared by Syrians for decades — a fear that I felt even here in America. I have been told by my family on numerous occasions to not talk politics or say anything about the president while in Syria, for my safety and the safety of my family.
This fear has defined Syrian society and political life ever since the Ba’ath Party took over in 1963. Fear pervades most Syrians. When protests broke out in Syria that day, as they naturally would in any oppressive country where teenagers would get arrested and tortured for writing anti-government graffiti, I was excited and anxious to see what would happen. People were unsure, afraid, hesitant. In fact, my parents told me adamantly not to post anything about Syria on Facebook, out of fear. I felt uncomfortable with the idea that the Mukhabarat were able to reach me even here in America. Would they detain me in the airport when I returned to visit Syria? I reasoned, however, that I wouldn’t return until after Assad fell, which I believed would be inevitable. Two years later, Assad continues to cling to power while he slowly burns Syria to the ground, with no end in sight. Innocent blood flowed from the start of the March 15, 2001, revolution — blood that would spread the protest movement from city to city and harden the people’s hearts against this mafia-regime. Constant violence and bloody crackdowns on the part of the government turned a call for reform into a call for regime change and forced a peaceful revolution to turn into a self-defensive armed rebellion.
I am in awe of the Syrian people who have mustered extreme courage to break down the barriers of fear that have kept their mouths shut and their minds bound. I am in awe of the Syrian people who have displayed utmost strength and faith in dealing with the suffering this conflict has brought about. I know my beautiful country has been ravaged, and I know its society has been torn apart by the sectarian-driven government. I know the constant rapes and killings, and mass detainments and bombings won’t be easily forgotten or forgiven. Yet I see examples of how people help each other, and I see examples of the sheer admirable determination these people exhibit for the success of their revolution, and I have hope. I have hope that Syria will come out of this conflict, having learned and gone through a lot, as a better country with a brighter future. Progress, education, democracy, dignity and freedom will no longer be shackled under a cruel, oppressive dictatorship.
Things have changed in the past two years. It’s amazing how desensitized I’ve become to the daily death toll, now accepting 115 people killed in one day as normal. And we forget the people and focus on the politics sometimes — we lose sight of the original spirit of the revolution, of the roots of this uprising. As a Syrian-American, I look back at the past two years, and I realize how much this revolution has affected my life and consumed my time and attention. I have felt nostalgia for the old Syria, the Syria I once knew, the Syria I miss and yearn to visit, knowing it won’t be the same. I have seen a country I never thought would be destroyed bleed.
Having used all kinds of weapons possible, Assad has killed more than 70,000 people in Syria. He has displaced more than four million people, creating the largest modern internally displaced person crisis in the world. More than one million Syrians were forced to flee their homes as refugees in neighboring countries, and about 40,000 are fleeing Syria every week. Some of my family and friends have been imprisoned, their houses burned, their spouses killed, displaced, and the list of troubles facing every Syrian goes on. What can you do, though? That is a question that has been in my head for as long as I can remember. What is the solution? How, when, will it end? I am saddened there seems to be no end in sight. The international community has so far failed at solving the crisis in Syria. Unfortunately, I see my country bleed and burn as larger political powers maneuver their chess pieces, disregarding the humanitarian disaster in Syria. The way geopolitics works, the way our double-standard international community functions, the way our political interests trump our humanitarian ethics absolutely disgusts me. Like most Syrians, I have lost trust in the international community that has allowed this atrocious bloodshed to continue happening in Syria. I invite all of you to actually do something — to turn activism into action.
Join the Student-Led Movement to End Mass Atrocities today, and call 202-647-4000 to be connected to the State Department comment line, and leave a message for Secretary Kerry urging him to increase humanitarian assistance to the more than one million Syrian refugees and to find a solution for the conflict. For more information, go to www.syriasly.org/syriasly-call-secretary-kerry/.
“I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” — Elie Wiesel
Sameer Saboungi is an international studies freshman at UF.
