Have you also noticed that suddenly there’s no talk about Ukraine, Gaza, or Lebanon? I won’t even bother pointing out that there’s no mention of Yemen, Sudan, Mali, and many other countries around the world where people are suffering just as much—if not more. Though comparing human suffering is senseless—it’s always tragic. What I mean is the sheer number of victims, where African conflicts clearly take the lead, yet Africans seem to draw little interest in European and American media. Suddenly, Syria is the center of the world, and the focus is on ending the Assad family’s rule.
Many people who are still looking for Syria on the map somehow know exactly what happened and, more importantly, what will happen next. I honestly don’t know. And this is despite having studied the Middle East for decades, having spent significant time in many countries in the region, and staying in regular contact with people born there—including Syrians.
If there are still people in the West applauding talk of inclusivity in a country torn apart by a 13-year-long civil war, it’s nothing short of a testament to their stupidity. The bar has once again been set by the British BBC and its delusional reporter, who from Damascus gushed about how “Jews, Muslims, and Christians are together in the streets and believe that…” I can assure her, Jews certainly are not. The question is where the remaining Syrian Jews—whose numbers are estimated between three and five—are even hiding. The Syrian Jewish community, which numbered about 30,000 at the time of Israel’s founding, has long since either lived elsewhere or been murdered. Today, if we can speak of a Jewish presence in Syria at all, it would only be in the form of Israeli soldiers (who, by the way, are not always Jewish) advancing from the occupied and annexed Golan Heights deeper into Syrian territory in the event of the Assad regime’s collapse.
I truly, deeply wish for the fighting in Syria to end—for the sake of Syrians, their neighbors, and even for us here in Europe, who have felt the impact of the migration wave. I hope the country can recover and that people from various ethnic and religious minorities can live peacefully side by side. But as I’ve said before, I know the Middle East to some extent, and I no longer believe in fairy tales. By the way, despite how it might appear in the media, the civil war—with the involvement of external actors—is still ongoing. Every day, there are shootings, bombings, and people dying in Syria.
I’ll start where the fighting is the hardest and the behavior of the international community is the most disgraceful—in the Syrian regions of Afrin, Kobani, and Hasaka. These are home to the Kurds, one of the largest stateless nations in the world. There are over 40 million of them, living across the territories of four different countries. Historically, they’ve been victims of genuine genocide, and to this day, they are killed daily, yet the world remains silent. No headlines in the media, no moved artists singing sorrowful songs, no interest at the UN. Why this is the case, no one knows. Perhaps they’re just unlucky that their community lives across four states, but none of them is Israel—because if it’s not an opportunity to take a jab at Jews, the progressive world doesn’t seem to care. The Kurds, however, deserve their own discussion—a long and very sad one. For now, I’ll stay in Syria and focus on current events.
While we were all watching the triumphant march of the „reformed Islamists“ from Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham to Damascus, the Turkish-backed militias did not join them. Instead, with substantial air and artillery support from Turkey, they launched attacks on the Kurds. After capturing Manbij, they seamlessly moved on to Kobani, clearly aiming to seize key strategic assets like the Tishrin Dam. The Turkish-backed militias, known as the Syrian National Army, are made up of individuals you probably wouldn’t want to encounter on a subway (though in a city like Berlin, that could easily happen). This is a coalition of various Islamists, many of whom were previously affiliated with ISIS or Al-Qaeda. This is still evident in the names of some of their factions, such as Jaish al-Islam, Faylaq al-Sham, and Ahrar al-Sharqiya. You might ask, why should we care about the Kurds and their adversaries? Haven’t they been fighting for centuries? Let me assure you—it matters a great deal. Setting aside the fact that they, too, deserve peace, and that they bore the brunt of the fight against ISIS, the Kurds are still doing the dirty work for us, for the democratic world. They are holding nearly 12,000 ISIS terrorists and around 60,000 of their family members in local prisons. Notably, many of these family members are now just as capable of carrying out terrorist attacks as their fathers and husbands. Thousands of them hold citizenship in EU countries, and those who don’t often find their way into Europe as „refugees.“ The implications for us in Europe hardly need elaboration. The only country currently providing any real, albeit limited, support to the Kurds is the United States. But even their position is precarious, given the small number of troops on the ground, extremely complex supply lines, and constant criticism from various „progressive“ and pro-Russian factions, which tirelessly argue that Americans have no business being there. And yes, these are the same voices that, back in 2014, loudly demanded to know why America wasn’t doing anything as ISIS massacred different ethnic groups in Syria and Iraq. But that’s just the eternal carousel of history.
When people ask me how the guys from Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) will govern Syria now that they’ve „liberated“ it, I always try to point out that there can be no talk of peace as long as Syria isn’t controlled by a single government. Besides the Kurds and Turkish-backed militias controlling the north, there’s HTS, which has moved from Idlib to Damascus and is gradually trying to expand its control over strategically important areas, particularly natural resource sites. This puts them on a collision course with Kurdish-controlled territories. At the same time, they’re attempting to negotiate cooperation with tribal leaders and other rebel groups. So far, they’ve been somewhat successful, but the loyalty of many of these groups is highly unpredictable—they’ve shown in the past that switching sides based on whoever seems to be winning is not foreign to them. Meanwhile, foreign armies remain on Syrian soil—Israeli, American, Turkish, Russian—and this does nothing to help stabilize the situation or begin rebuilding the war-torn country.
A lot of hope is currently pinned on Abu Muhammad al-Julani, whose „war name“ he is now trying to shed, presenting himself to the world under his civilian name, Ahmad Hussein al-Sharaa. It’s hard to say—I’m more of a pessimist than an optimist. Miracles happen, but they are rare exceptions, like Nelson Mandela, who transformed from a terrorist to a Nobel Peace Prize laureate. In the vast majority of cases, however, it ends poorly. Ahmad Hussein has undergone a transformation from an Al-Qaeda fighter to today’s advocate for peaceful coexistence in Syria. The ultimate outcome of his leadership will depend on his success in the country’s economic recovery and the withdrawal of foreign armies. Economic recovery will determine his ability to pay and reward „his“ fighters, many of whom, after ten or more years of fighting, are aging and tired of endlessly roaming in pickups and sleeping each night in the ruins of different villages. The withdrawal of foreign armies will, in turn, dictate his ability to control the entire country and, ideally, to equitably distribute the economy’s resources among all Syrians.
What role should Europe play, and why should Europe even get involved? Let’s set aside matters like helping others and focus purely on our own interests. The top priority is to ensure the continuation of Kurdish autonomy and its security within Syria, along with maintaining the operation of detention centers holding former ISIS members. If we fail to do this, we have a really big security problem in Europe and we can forget about Christmas markets that are not more like prisons in the years to come. Next, it is essential to establish relations, including diplomatic ties, with the new ruler in Damascus. This might make us uncomfortable, but our strategic competitors in the region are not idle. Turkey has already re-established its diplomatic presence, and Russia is desperately trying to secure its presence at the Hmeimim and Tartus bases. Other players are also advancing their interests. Sunni countries in the region are working to curb the captagon epidemic and to „pull“ Ahmad Hussein and his Syria into their sphere of influence, which would significantly undermine their strategic rival, Iran—something that is also in Israel’s interest and, ultimately, ours as well.
In addition to keeping terrorists under Kurdish control, our priority should include facilitating the return of Syrian refugees from Turkey and Lebanon, which would ease the burden on both countries and stabilize their internal politics. Equally important is the return of Syrian economic migrants from European countries. These migrants not only place a financial strain on our budgets and pose a security risk, but their presence ultimately fuels domestic extremism within our societies. The sooner we are able to declare that Syria is a safe country, the sooner we can begin to remigrate and reject new arrivals.
To achieve all this, in addition to allocating funds—which would still be significantly less than what European countries currently spend on managing the consequences of Syrian migration—we also need something else, something no one here seems to possess: military strength and the will to use it if Syria’s new rulers begin acting contrary to their current promises. If you want to be a relevant force in the Middle East, the rule still stands: along with a peaceful olive branch in one hand, you must hold a formidable stick in the other. Looking at today’s Europe, I don’t see any leaders who understand this—or, for that matter, even possess the stick.
©2024 Milan Mikulecký. Všechna práva jsou vyhrazena.