Self-Censorship: The Reality of Living in a Police State

Living in the Arab world during this critical moment in its history is an international relations student’s dream. I’ve had the opportunity to gain insights from a diverse variety of Syrian perspectives as events unfold in real time and firsthand accounts allow me to distinguish truth from sensationalism in the news. This puts me in a perfect position to share facets of the current unrest that may otherwise go unheard. At least that’s what one would think.

However, the dark side of the nature of these events dictates that I will have to abstain from writing about them while I am here. Indeed, the recent arrest of student-bloggers and journalists is an effective means of encouraging self censorship. In light of concerns expressed by family, friends, and Syrian acquaintances and because the situation is becoming increasingly tense, I feel obliged to wait and share my observations when I am in a more secure position to do so. Such is life in a police state.

It is a rather frustrating reality that I cannot open a window to others through which I’ve been able to peer, particularly in the last week. However, I cannot imagine the kind of anger, resentment and sense of hopelessness that many people here feel. It is no wonder they are willing to commit acts of contravention that risk their lives.

This is not to raise an alarm, as Damascus is safer than most American cities. It’s simply a precaution. I plan to continue writing on this blog about travel, sharing pictures, and perhaps eluding on some of the quirky experiences of daily life but, unfortunately, not on the political side of things (at least for now). I’m sorry to disappoint those of you who have expressed interest.

Has the Wave Reached Syria?

Demonstrations in any of Syria’s cities are usually small, and the secret police almost always outnumber demonstrators. However, after arriving back in Damascus after a seven-day trip through Jordan last week, I learned that there were a number of unusually large protests around the Old City. An intern working in the Belgian embassy, which has tasked itself with observing the demonstrations, didn’t have an accurate count of the number involved but he confirmed that at least 35 protestors were arrested; their names were not released and their families have not been notified. Another protest is planned for Friday outside the Omayyad mosque.

The trouble that protest-organizers in Damascus have is that there is not a unified opposition leader or organization that is able to overcome the complicated religious, socio-economic, familial and regional quilt of Damascene society. To make matters more arduous, it is difficult to plan an event without someone tipping off the secret police who arrest dissident leaders before they can raise their voices. They show up to demonstrations—even before the protestors—and intimidate everyone in the area. These are only a few of the many complicated reasons that Syria has been deemed less likely to be caught up in the wave of Arab mass protests.

Comparing these matters to the fabric of society in Tunisia, Bassam Haddad wrote on March 9, “the regime and government did not overlap nearly as much as those of Syria do, and certainly the Tunisian coercive apparatuses and army were not as closely knit around the heights of power as they are in Syria… The Syrian regime has promoted a new cross-sectarian business class often with considerable roots in traditional city quarters.” This makes Egypt-sized demonstrations in Damascus unlikely as things stand now, but what about Syria’s other areas where the security presence is relatively lower and regime ties much thinner? Could the economic woes, which are even worse outside of Damascus, equate to a call for regime change? Haddad estimates that, “As matters stand today, the calculus of the ordinary Syrian does not favor going to the streets – absent an unexpected incident of regime brutality, of course.”

Mobilizing in Deraa

Well, an unexpected incident of regime brutality is exactly what happened on Friday south of Damascus in Deraa, where a peaceful protest calling for increased freedoms resulted in the death of at least five protestors at the hands of President Assad’s security force.  The result was a massive protest in Deraa yesterday where more than 10,000 protestors gathered (the New York Times reported 20,000) in a funeral march and demonstration explicitly against the Assad Administration. Filling Deraa’s citizens with even more anger, police recently arrested 15 school children that painted graffiti with slogans against the Assad government. Word on the street at the moment in Damascus is that a communications building and courthouse have been set ablaze in Deraa tonight and the protests are ongoing. At least four more protestors have been killed and more than a hundred injured. Communications with the city have been completely severed and movement in or out is impossible. There are rumors now that the protests have spread north of Damascus to Homs, Hama and Aleppo, but I’ve heard nothing on the size of these demonstrations.

So far there have been no protests in Damascus regarding the Deraa events, which may remain the case. The citizens in Deraa are of a different tribe than most in Damascus and their protest was a separate movement with different intentions than those earlier this week. However, some think that this may be the spark that unites Syrians, perhaps under the umbrella of a broad Islamic movement that has been brewing recently and gaining support from many sides on social media websites.

That is an unlikely case, a Syrian friend tells me. “The people in Damascus are either not charged enough or they are too scared,” he says. This is a revealing statement about Damascus; those who are not “charged”—having the social connections and standing that grant them respectable wages and comfortable lives—have no reason to want change or to be scared while those who struggle day in and day out do not have the resources, time, or ability to overcome the threat of the secret police. But do they have the will?

That is just one of the many questions observers have right now. In Syria, which Haddad says “combines the heavy-handedness of the Tunisian regime, the economic hardships of Egypt, the hereditary rule aspects of Morocco and Jordan, and a narrower leadership base than any other country across the Arab world,” will a widespread movement sprout from Deraa, or is it an isolated event that will soon go away? Will the different elements of Syrian society (religious, economic, tribal) overcome their divisiveness and join in a unified movement?

Again, most analysts think it is unlikely. Haddad writes that, “The heterogeneity of Syrian society (in terms of politics, region, community, sect, and ethnicity) exacerbates divisions among those affected and discourages cohesion among the opposition. Snowballing demonstrations that would dramatically raise the cost of brutal reaction in Syria are thus unlikely for the time being.” However, as Malik al-Abdeh wrote recently, “Middle East experts are good at many things; prophesying is not one of them… It is at the street level that the rumblings of the next revolution will first be detected.” Those rumblings have just begun.

Here, There, and Stuck in the Apartment

I would rather be writing about the breathtaking Sayyida Zeinab Mosque in Damascus or my wonderful weekend getaway at Deir Mar Musa Monastery, but the pile of work on my desk that keeps getting higher must be attended to first. I was sick for about seven days and stuck in my apartment, which means that I am now behind on university work. For now, my focus will be on the next exam (Monday) and planning a trip to Jordan, which will immediately follow the test.

I have uploaded some pictures and videos and will be sharing further commentary later on. Enjoy the pictures; I will put them in context as soon as is possible.

Link to the pictures: https://picasaweb.google.com/107792309341102667834?authkey=Gv1sRgCJTN97aDiYimJA and here is a preview:

"The Town that Repels" Not Living up to its Name

Written on 2/6/11

Far removed from the hustle and bustle of Damascus, my visit to the city of Tadmor and its adjacent Palmyra ruins was a perfect two-day escape before the start of classes. The three and a half hour bus ride northeast through the Syrian Desert to the isolated oasis was enough to convince me that I’ve never used the phrase ‘in the middle of nowhere’ more appropriately. Between Damascus and Tadmor (translated as The City that Repels) there were only a few small villages and a couple of Bedouin sheep-herders.

Arriving after dusk and planning to save the 3rd century B.C. ruins for the following day, my travel companion, Tristan, and I decided to stroll about town to get a feel for the place and grab a bite to eat. After escaping the taunts of many touts and hagglers we stopped at a small café for bread, hummus and, as always, black tea. Like in a Damascus cafe, everyone focused intently on the images of the Egyptian uprising on t.v.

The city of about fifty thousand—eighty percent of whom descend from Bedouin—was evidently rundown. It is the home of Syria’s most visited tourist attraction, Palmyra, which has drawn fewer and fewer tourists since 9-11 (that would explain the desperation in the voices of those trying in earnest to attract us to their shops and stands; the inclusion of Syria in the so-called “Axis of Evil” doesn’t help their cause). A decline in visitors coupled with highly fluctuating amounts of precipitation from year to year has nearly crippled the already distressed economy’s two primary industries, tourism and agriculture. Despite the lack of vibrancy in the economy and infrastructure, the city and people still had a charm about them.

On our way back to al-fundouq ashams, the small hotel where we negotiated the price of 900 Syrian Pounds ($18) for two nights in a double room, a group of locals sitting around a small fire invited us to sit and chat. As if we had known the men and two children our entire lives, we  talked all night as the air got chillier and the stars got brighter. Over warm, sweet camel milk we discussed politics, history and the reasons I’m studying their language. And of course, me being me, I stressed the importance of education to Khalid and Muhammad, the two ten-year-olds playing with a homemade slingshot. Happily they go to school five days a week where they are in the early stages of studying English, among other things. It was a wonderful opportunity to practice the language and be acquainted with the most hospitable people imaginable. As the night got late and we were about to depart Hassan invited us to his house for dinner the following evening.

After a tiring day of walking through the expansive, decaying ruins at Palmyra, Tristan and I met our hosts at the agreed time—sunset—and were fast on our way. Hassan’s nephew Amin drove us hastily through the busy streets on his motorcycle while ignoring the few traffic signs and using his horn as the only means of passing through an intersection (no slowing down or stopping, no turn signals, and no helmets). Safely we arrived to the delight of our stomachs as the smells in the kitchen were teasing our seemingly insatiable appetites.

Our entertainment for the night was Hassan’s beautiful one-and-a-half year old daughter, Shiam, who was born just two days before my goddaughter Emery. She quickly dove into the sweets that we had brought and indulged without restraint. Fixing a cabinet door that Shiam broke, Hassan told us that she blamed the incident on her sibling who happens to still be in her mother’s womb. Half a world away I couldn’t help but think about Emery and how similar the two are—always smiling and giggling but none too happy if things don’t always go their way.

Hassan’s wife and his friend’s wife prepared our meal, but they did not join our company in the sitting room. Women in this community and throughout much of the Arab world do the cooking and housework while the males are responsible as breadwinners. The women eat separately when guests are present.

The chicken and rice tagine was good and I did not want to let him down, but I was beyond full. Yet, long after everyone was finished eating I was still shoveling spoonfuls in my mouth, as it is the Arab custom to continue feeding a guest until the food is gone. It is the responsibility of the guest to eat all of what is offered to confirm that the food is good. Eventually I gave in to my body’s absolute rejection and Hassan seemed content. Throughout the rest of the night we sat around and chatted while playing with a few kids that came over. Hassan showed us a load of pictures, including those of family members, hunting excursions in the desert mountains, trips to Jordan and Egypt, and pictures from over a decade ago of him sitting around a fire on the side of a street against a wall in the same fashion as when we encountered him.

The experience that Hassan provided us has been every bit as memorable as the incredible ancient ruins that sit a mile from his house. It was one of those magical personal events when the stars are all aligned permitting me to walk down that street at that particular time and into Hassan’s warm hospitality. It is moments like these that one realizes humans, the 99.9 percent of us regular folks, want the same general things in life no matter where we are from or where we are going.

Post Script:  I asked some of the men if they would like to send a message to Americans who may not know much about their culture and daily activities. They were more than happy to do so and shared what they had to say. I will translate their correspondences in due time and send the video and text to a friend for edits and subtitles. I will post the videos as soon as I can, inshaa allah.

PHOTOS COMING SOON!

All Eyes on Egypt

Written on 1/29/11

While sitting in a smoke-filled narghile café in the Old City of Damascus where locals were sipping on green tea, playing backgammon and watching a Syrian soccer match on t.v., something quickly caught the attention of everyone present. The events in Cairo that unfolded in real time on the television screen captured the attention of not only everyone in the café but also of the entire city. While walking back to my hostel I could see that nearly every shopkeeper equipped with a television was glued to the broadcast of the protests in Cairo and throughout Egypt. The uprisings in Cairo, Suez, and Alexandria were ubiquitous.

The ongoing protests, which evolved from minor demonstrations to full-out clashes with police and the military, exhibit the impact of various media in the Arab world. Word of the recent uprising in Tunisia spread like a wildfire throughout North Africa and the Middle East, and it served as a contagion to not just Egypt but also Jordan and Yemen. Satellite broadcasts carried live footage into millions of Arab homes while the use of social networking and cell phones provided a way for the masses to organize in unprecedented numbers. These tools played a major role in planning, executing, and sustaining effective demonstrations as well as attracting the world’s attention. The web certainly has its limitations and the catalyst that some expect to spread throughout the region is unlikely. The long term implications, however, could be very important because people are becoming increasingly empowered to assert their opinions about topics not usually discussed publicly.

AS SYRIANS SEE IT

Shivering from the cold night air in the traditional open courtyard back at the hostel, I had the opportunity to ask some Syrians about their perceptions as the protests became violent. I was quite surprised by how forthcoming they were about their opinions, which were emphatically on the side of the demonstrators. “Mubarak has had nearly 30 years,” one said, “and the country is still a mess. How long does it take,” he asked. Those willing to speak up expressed a feeling of empathy with the Egyptian people and lamented about their troubles. They said that the people had a right to express their thoughts and ask for change when necessary.

Thinking about Syria and similar issues it shares with Egypt—high unemployment,  poverty, increasing inflation and a lack of free speech—I cautiously breeched the topic of the progress made under Bashar al-Assad over the past ten years since he became president. The discussion on Syria was brief, as I was hesitant to delve too deeply into taboo subjects, and generally went in the direction I expected it would. Assad should be applauded for his efforts, the hostel workers agreed, and the country is on the right track. To no surprise, there was no mention about the major problems here. I suspect that as I develop relationships with locals I will be in a better position to enquire about political, religious, and social issues.

The following night at Café Domino (one street over from the biblical Straight Street) where news of the uprising in Egypt was on the television, my waiter said that the Egyptian people had every right to speak up about their dissatisfactions. Feeling more confident, I asked him of the situation here. “Yes,” he acknowledged, “Syria has a lot of issues, but President Assad is taking the necessary steps.” He said, “Look around you. Everyone is happy.” Judging from the discussions I’ve had, most people do seem to be quite content. Smiles greet you around every corner and welcomes and “more welcomes” are offered everywhere I go. I haven’t seen a single homeless person (yet) and have been approached only once or twice by someone pleading for money, which is in stark contrast to Morocco. I do wonder if what people tell me is genuine—considering the salience of secret police and what’s been written about Syria’s lack of free speech—but whereas Egypt’s problems create hardships for millions, Syria’s appear (so far) to be at least tolerable. I’m sure that I will be exposed to a different side of Damascus the longer I stay. But I can say that most of the things people envision when they think about this beautiful country: terrorists, abductions, bombs, etc…—they are wrong. A region should not be defined by the actions of only a few.

The same waiter at Café Domino asked me about Americans’ perceptions of Syria. I was honest and he understood. The biggest thing to which he expressed an objection was America’s disapproval with Syria’s ties to Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran. He said that the Syrian government is playing the U.S.’s game of politics. The West allies against the Middle East, he said, and has done so since or before the Balfour Declaration in 1917. To prevent marginalization and isolation, he argued, Syria must look out for itself and cultivate relationships. He expressed much hope that the recent arrival of America’s ambassador to Syria, the first since 2005, will improve the U.S.-Syria relationship immensely.

My hope is that we, Americans, seek to learn the truth about other people in all countries. As my number of travels and explorations increase, I see more and more that content in Western media and in school (k-12) does not match up with facts on the ground. Others have often extended their hands to the U.S., so why not reach out and open our minds. Perhaps it would lead to better policies and a better way of life for them as well as us.

Live from Damascus - I can only create post titles because the rest of blogger is censored here. Because of the recent events in Tunisia and an increase in internet censorship, I am unable to connect to any of the free web-based email applications as well. However, I am here, safe, and as happy as can be. If anyone has any info on how to connect to a proxy it would be greatly appreciated (use the comments section).