Syrian divisions in full force
By Stephen Starr

The following is an edited excerpt from the author's recently published book, Revolt in Syria: Eye-Witness to the Uprising.  

"There are no microbuses running today," I told a friend who had invited me to lunch at a restaurant high in the mountains close to the Syrian-Israeli demarcation border in southwest Syria. I ended the call and waited 10 more minutes before a microbus did, in fact, arrive and take me to Artouz where he was waiting to pick me up. The small town had seen several anti-government protests over the weeks of May and June but none had turned violent. The authorities would swiftly group together pro-government supporters and bus them to Artouz within a couple of hours of anti-government protesters having left. Syrian state television could

 

then show that there was a demonstration; one in fulsome support of [President] Bashar al-Assad. It was a convincing ploy that served to convince Syrians in other parts of the country that all was well for the president.

It was 1.15pm on 8 July - a Friday. Within 15 minutes, millions of Syrians would flood out of mosques around the country. In Artouz, the authorities were ready. At the turnoff for the town of Qatana a mosque was being closely monitored. Several police cars were parked across the road. Thirty meters further up and out of sight of the mosque were three green buses. There was no one inside. On the pavement behind them were dozens of men armed with batons, helmets and shields. They lay in the shade counting down the minutes before the masses would flow from the mosque. They looked entirely, unnervingly, non-plussed.

My friend picked me up in a silver Kia almost directly in front of the security officers and we passed on to Qatana looking straight ahead through the windscreen. By the time we arrived, it was 1:28pm according to the car clock. By now, small numbers had started leaving the two main mosques in the center of the town. We took a detour to pick up some friends before heading on to Erneh, a village under the shadow of Sheikh Mountain. The only road to Erneh passed close to the town's main mosque. Our deviated route added a few minutes to our journey but saw us alight at the street where one of the chief mosques stood. I looked back in the direction of the mosque to see a scene I had expected, but still found hard to believe: a crowd of perhaps 1,000 people jammed together, jumping up and down. They were screaming for freedom. Women poured water over the crowd as the sun beat down in forty degree heat.

Qatana is a religiously-diverse army town 28 kilometers south west of Damascus. It has a population of about 30,000 and is about 65% Sunni, 20% Christian and 15% Alawite. The latter moved to the town when it was established as an army base during hostilities with Israel in the 1970s. Historically the town is not an Alawite stronghold. Alawite families are viewed as outsiders today, something that has added to the sectarian tension there.

As we drove out of the town, another group of about a 100 men carrying Syrian flags marched silently - but with gusto, and without any hint of fear in their bulging eyes - past our car from a mosque to meet those inside the town. There was no sign of any military presence.

We left Qatana's heaving protesters behind us, but when we reached our destination among the acres of cherry, apple and almond trees and a stone's throw from the Syrian-Israeli demilitarized zone, another newly-politicized group from the spectrum of Syria's religious make-up awaited.

Erneh is a Druze stronghold. One must pass through a checkpoint to get there at which you will be turned back if you are not known. My friend was recognized as he had been involved in rebuilding a church in the nearby village of Qalaa the previous year.

Wissam's Paradise, a restaurant surrounded by shady springs, draws an almost exclusively Christian clientele, and has done for years. In the summer of 2010, a few Muslim families would come for lunch and take in the fresh air, but there were none in July 2011. Local Alawites make up the remainder the patrons.

My friend and I spoke to an Alawite police officer who evidently didn't realize I was a foreign journalist. He said the police and security were waiting for the protests to turn violent in Qatana. "When they turn to violence against government or police buildings, the army and security forces will deal with the problem." He said this meant shooting at the protesters.

Over the course of the afternoon, we ate hummus, salad and barbecued chicken interspersed with shots of arak. People danced dabke- a traditional fast-paced dance where participants hold hands and move in circles. At one point a group of young men began chanting "Abu Hafez" in reference to Assad, whose oldest son is named Hafez. Those who didn't chant looked on, clapping their hands. Some cast careful stares towards those (including me) who didn't partake in this spontaneous pro-regime showing.

That day 15 people were reported killed in anti-government protests across the country. In Hama almost half a million people took to the streets to demand an end to the regime - the largest number reached in a year of protest.

With the 1,000-strong crowd calling for the end of the regime and their fellow townspeople, the Christians, chanting their undying support for Assad, that Friday afternoon served as a timely reminder of the delicate balance in Qatana. More critically, such divisions and tensions between religious groups were being replicated in towns and cities right around Syria.

Revolt in Syria: Eye-Witness to the Uprising, C Hurst & Co Publishers Ltd, ISBN-10: 1849041970, $23.88, 232 pages

Stephen Starr is an Irish freelance journalist who lived in Syria for five years until February. His book, Revolt in Syria: Eye-Witness to the Syrian Uprising has been released in the UK and Ireland. He Tweets @stephenstarr

(Copyright 2012 Stephen Starr.)