These past days, I have been following the news from Syria in disbelief.
What surprises me the most is not the Syrian government’s defiance against international pressure, sending in tanks and shells to quell rebellions in Hama and other cities; the unexpected are images of Syrians taking to the street openly.
“We don’t talk about politics,” this line parroted by nearly all Syrians I met during my travel there in late 2006 still ring in my ears, and the violently muted reactions of Syrians whenever I broached into domestic politics filled pages of my diary.
Back then, I had arrived in Syria shortly after the 34-day war in neighboring Lebanon, the fighting ground for Israeli and Hezbollah military forces. The Syrians displayed their solidarity with Hezbollah, Lebanese, and Palestinian victims in the conflict by putting up “anti-war posters” in the streets; laymen became learned commentators of the conflict, everyone had a piece to say about the US-Israel conspiracy against the Arab and Muslim world, and anti-Zionist views abound.
But, the moment I tried to veer the conversations to domestic politics, I rammed into a wall of silence. “We don’t talk about politics,” came the reply, end of candid conversations, and in a forced-polite manner, I would be showed the door out of teahouse, carpet shop, cobbler stall, local home, etc.
I recalled an incident in Hama – Syria’s forth largest city currently besieged by president Bashar al-Assad’s military for nearly a week, and latest footages from the state television showing ruins and lifelessness – where I had treaded on forbidden ground.
The pace of life in Hama spun as slowly as the famed Noria (huge ancient water-wheel) on the edge of the city. The locals always had time to entertain a lone traveler like me, my sightseeing in the city often ended in local shops or homes for long sessions of chit-chat over cups after cups of tea.
Once, a friendly Syrian university student – who speaks fluent English – kindly offered to take me to his uncle’s shoe shop in the old city of Hama for tea. The shop was tiny and compact, racks of leather shoes, mainly from China, arranged neatly under the firm gaze of a portrait of Bashar al-Assad. The president’s portraits always sit on the wall of all business entities, as if to serve as a constant reminder of his absolute authority over his subjects.
In the shoe shop, tea was brewed, snack was served, and we chatted for a good one to two hours, never once interrupted by any potential customer. With the university student as translator, I learned of ways to check the quality of leather shoes, the difference between Italy and China-made shoes; I was informed of the best restaurant and dessert shops in Hama, the best deals at the weekend market, the tourist sights worth checking out (especially the not-to-miss Noria)…….
Eventually, and inevitably, like all conversations with the locals at that time, we arrived on the topic of the war in Lebanon. Both the nephew and uncle had lashed out against Israel enthusiastically, calling all those who fight Israel as heroes and died as martyrs.
Since we were on the subject of killings and innocent loss of lives over different ideologies and identities, I casually slipped in the question of how they viewed the Hama massacre back in 1982 – executed by the then Syrian government, the now-president’s father – that reportedly annihilated between 10,000 to 25,000 Hama residents, in an effort to weed out the Sunni-sect Muslim Brotherhood movement, as opposed to the president’s Shiite based Alawites-sect.
My question dropped like an atomic bomb in the tiny shoe shop, everyone became dead frozen and muted, aside from the sound of tea brewing and bubbling, I felt like I could not even detect the sound of breathing, not even my own breath, as I was holding it in the tense silence, knowing I had rudely betrayed their hospitality and pushed the taboo button.
Minutes passed in silence, the uncle remained still and stone face. Finally, the nephew spoke softly but firmly, “That’s the past, we have forgotten it. We don’t talk about it, not even at home.” Slowly, the uncle with down-cast eyes nodded in agreement when the university student translated his answer back into Arabic.
I remembered another incident, once I was looking for a post office in Aleppo and approached a paranoid Syrian for direction; the man dressed in suave western suit and spoke impeccable English, after politely giving me the direction, he lowered his voice and said: “I’m actually heading the same direction, but I can’t walk with you, or the police might question me why am I with a foreign woman.” And he walked hastily away.
Only later after weeks of touring the country, that I realized Syrians believed they lived among government spies, there’re eyes and ears to pick-up dissenting views against the government. Association with foreigners could lead to suspicion, the well-educated lots might be under more scrutiny, and expressions on domestic politics a dangerous and possibly deadly topic.
Instead, the locals diverted their attention away from the suffocating atmosphere at home, preferred to channel their energy and opinions on the larger geo-political issue, the Middle-East conflict, the evils of the US, and the Zionists.
Having met the wall of silence on domestic politics repeatedly during my stay in Syria, I could not help but wonder what has changed the dynamic of things in the last few years? What bring about the cracks in the wall of silence?
There’s no way to verify the number of casualties or reports of “tens of thousands” of Syrians have marched the streets across Syria on the first Friday of Ramadan (the Muslim fasting month), since foreign and independent journalists are barred. And most of the photos of mass rally flooding the internet space are of protesters in Jordan, Turkey, even France, standing in solidarity with their fellow countrymen back in Syria.
But the fact that the Al-Assad government is sending tanks into various pockets of the country to cull dissents does indicate the wall of silence is to some extend giving way. Using violence to invoke fear, displaying the devastation of Hama to strengthen fear; history has showed that fear is a good weapon in silencing the masses.
I recalled a passage from the Polish writer Ryszard Kapuscinski’s Shah of Shahs, which depicts the final years of the last Shah in Iran and the rise of the 1979 Revolution:
Fear: a predatory, voracious animal living inside us….it keeps eating at us and twisting our guts. It demands food all the time. Its preferred fare is dismal gossip, bad news, panic thoughts, nightmare images….. And what if we have nothing to feed it with?
All books about all revolutions begin with a chapter that describes the decay of tottering authorities or the misery and sufferings of the people. They should begin with a psychological chapter, one that shows how a harassed, terrified man suddenly breaks his terror, stops being afraid. Man gets rid of fear and feels free. Without that there would be no revolution.
Could the above apply to Syria? The silence appeared to have broken, and the masses have crossed the line of fearfulness to openly display defiance. But what is the dose of brute force that would again feed the fear or break it to the point of no return? How I wish the answer could reveal itself with minimum casualties……
Excellent, thoughtful, insightful. Thank you for this good read.
glad you find the piece readable. it’s written based on memory and notes from my diary, but lacks inputs from the latest happenings in Syria, if you are inside the country, or still have friends living there (unfortunately, I’ve lost touch with people there), would appreciate if you could keep me updated on the situation on the ground, thanks.
Great post, is that safe to travel in Syria? based on your blog, i see the peaceful of residence and country.
Back in 2006, it was very very safe to travel in Syria. Now with some unrest in the country, Hama is sealed off for locals as well as foreigners. But from travelers forum I read that other places like Aleppo, Damascus, Latakia, Palmyra, etc, are still ok, no problem to travel. Usually in the Autumn, the Syrian government organizes Silk Road Festival, which will feature lots of cultural activities and some of the usually quiet ancient towns – like Palmyra – will come alive.
We were there for 10 days in Dec 2010 — incredible place.
The extra-ordinary warmth and friendliness shown by Syrians are a vast difference from their neighbors, like Jordanian, Lebanese and Egyptians. However, we did warned by our driver that Syria is a socialist country which was ruled under the Emergency Law, we need to be mindful and careful on whatever topic we speak. This is one of the countries that packed with so much history and civilization: biblical sites, Mesopotamia, ancient cities that staying alive like Damascus, Aleppo…….all these that we shouldn’t miss. We are wishing one day, unrest will subsides and we can visit them again.
Lonely Planet Middle East says SYRIAN FRIENDLY PEOPLE is one of the highlight and we wholehearted agree after visiting the country, The cruelness of the regime has no correlation at all to the genuine warmth, friendly, likeable common people of Syrian.
Indeed, agree, Syrians are warm and friendly people; and the country is a living museum, one just have to stroll the streets and alleys of cities like Aleppo and Damascus, and history and culture is right there among the livings……And walking down a short street can take hours, simply because locals would invite you for tea in their homes and shops, just to chat.