Syrian rebels raced through Damascus, shocked at how attainable their freedom was, and how flimsy the Assad regime had been. Across the city, relatives race to the prison walls, grasping the hands of men and women they have never seen before, who bask in pure freedom. The cries of babies born in prison cells ring through the streets, as their eyes assimilate to a world outside four walls and the darkness of dictatorship. Beyond the borders of a liberated nation, 14 million Syrian refugees dance with the possibility of returning to a home they have not seen in years.
Taima Hourizada, a refugee whose brother and father were killed by Syrian bombing said, “I can’t wait to go back to my house in Homs. I can’t wait to see my family and cousins. Me and 14 million Syrian refugees are in tears, in disbelief that we will actually return home and see a free Syria within our lifetime.” Hourizada has not been back to Syria since fleeing as a child 12 years ago.
The civilians within Syria are amid liberation, yet they must deal with the harsh reality. As underground prisons are found all throughout Syria; underneath hospitals, schools, and apartments, loved ones who remained alive in the minds of hopeful families, are dead.
Syrian activist Mazen al-Hamada was killed in Damascus’ most deadly prison, Sednaya. He fled Syria after his initial arrest and was able to tell the story of his horrific treatment under the regime. Hamada was a hero. His decision to return back to Damascus struck the globe after the unimaginable pain he had undergone.
Mazen al-Hamada said,
“I want to sacrifice myself to stop the bloodshed that is happening. That is all.”
In the aftermath of the fallen government, Hamada successfully sacrificed himself and, thus, was unable to live long enough to witness a liberated Syria.
This is the case for many Syrians imprisoned in underground jails, undergoing constant torture from the Assad regime. Founder of the Syrian Network for Human Rights, Fadel Abdul Ghany, records more than 100,000 men, women, and children who have forcibly disappeared since 2011. A number that is not included in the official death toll of 620,000 people. Hundreds of thousands of individuals stream out from underground, unknown prisons, and a small portion of the people are able to escape death.
There are children born into these prisons, completely unaware of the outside world. A Syrian intellectual and opposition figure who died in 2021, Michel Kilo, shared his experience from his time in an Assad regime prison. He spoke to a 4-year-old boy born in prison and told him a story of a bird flying in the sky. The boy interrupted him, asking,
“What is a bird?”
There are girls forced into these prisons as teenagers who return to the world as mothers. Men, of different ages and ethnicities, who return as shells of who they used to be. Ali Hassan al-Ali, a university student, was arrested by the regime at the age of 18 on charges of political agitation. 38 years later, and now a 56-year-old man, Hassan al-Ali was released and welcomed by a vast group of online supporters and his brother, who had never stopped seeking him out. Ragheed al-Tatari, a former Syrian Air Force pilot, was incarcerated in 1980 when he refused to bomb a civilian area due to its protests. Throughout his intensive 43-year imprisonment, al-Tatari missed the birth of his unborn son and a huge portion of his life. Today, he has been released from his incarceration.
The Syrian Civil War inhibits such tragic loss of life and a tremendous amount of pain felt by innocents. Millions of Syrian citizens were displaced around the world, never to return until Syria’s liberation. This war spanned for more than a decade, and yet no outrage was heard. There is a certain pattern with Middle Eastern oppression; there is a category labeled ‘hopeless.’ It is a layer of pain and death that those in privileged situations refuse to peel because it’s too overwhelming.
It is easy to ignore pain. It is easy to ignore suffering. A blindfold is placed over the eyes of those nations living away from oppression, and the ignorance in the blindfold is so comforting that its existence is accepted and welcomed. However, change and justice will not arise from the comfort of the blindfold. It is time for those in power and those in privilege to address the situations that have gone on for far too long. The situations that have gone on are ignored and disregarded. A free Syria is celebrated today, but a Syria tense with power struggles and death will arise tomorrow. It is the duty of the people to address this and advocate for it.
Syrian poet Nizar Qabbani says, “Every lemon will bring forth a child, and the lemons will never die out.”
May the lemon trees of Syria grow to the clouds, and may the people of the world nurture each lemon with their eyes wide open.
