Syrian opposition remains fractured and weak

Until they get organised, more blood will flow

 

On Thursday, a conference was organised by the LSE Middle East Centre to assess the Syrian revolution 18 months on. It focused on the revolution from inside the regime, looked at the Syrian opposition, and explored the identity and impact of the revolution on the economy and society. The conference raised many issues: Brigadier General Akil Hashem and activist Suheir Atassi called for foreign intervention while others like journalist Stephen Starr and Dr Thomas Pierret offered more nuanced narratives. The conference deliberately skirted around the thorny issue of sectarianism and the Kurdish question. 

However, Professor Burhan Ghalioun, former chairman of the Syrian National Council (SNC) was most candid about the Syrian conflict.  In fact Professor Ghalioun’s comments seemed like an admission of SNC’s failure to lead the revolution. The Sorbonne professor blamed the regime for militarising the conflict which had begun peacefully. It was the regime's brutal suppression of the protestors that was the cause. He described the regime as an occupying power using violence to beat its citizens into submission. He blamed the regime for creating the self-fulfilling prophecy of playing on the Jihadi threat when YouTube videos clearly showed the protests to be otherwise. He claimed that documentation existed to show that there were Syrian intelligence quotas for killing protesters. He rejected the idea that the conflict was a civil war but rather an illegitimate regime’s war against the Syrian people.

Ghalioun blamed the lack of unity within the Syrian opposition on differing political aims as well as the regime’s brutal repression. He said that the international community was incapable of intervening in Syria and accused the Friends of Syria for being hesitant in their support. Much of this professed support was rhetoric rather than reality. He concluded that the conflict had become a stalemate and Lakhdar Brahimi’s efforts would go the same way as Kofi Annan’s.

Professor Fawaz Gerges was right in describing Professor Ghalioun as a progressive. However, some hard questions still needed to be asked. Syrian journalist Malik el-Abdeh summed it up when he tweeted: “Ghalioun is blaming everyone but himself”.  Questions about the SNC seemed to draw a blank. What do they represent? Who are they, and what if anything has Ghalioun done to bring them together? None of these questions was dealt with at in the conference. One Syrian delegate asked why had there been no strong leadership? Professor Ghalioun’s response was not satisfactory. “No one,” he said, “neither politician nor an academic can lead this revolution”. But surely opposition leaders could at least channel the revolution? Have the efforts of Kerensky or Lenin, sons of repressive police states, not shown that? Why should Syria be any different? Why has the SNC not channeled the revolution?  The fact that it cannot, to Burhan Ghalioun’s own admission, even coordinate with the Free Syrian Army, shows the extent of its fracture.

What does that mean for Syria 18 months on?  We are faced with a scenario with a touch of the Russian civil war; opposition groups attack the regime with no strategy. The Syrian regime controls the cities, possesses effective military strategy and has all the guns. Moreover, as Dr Christopher Phillips pointed out, Assad’s regime is excellent at propaganda. What does the SNC have? Not even a radio station to broadcast its message whatever that is.  As Stephen Starr has pointed out, the regime might be brutal but at least it represents stability and continuity. It shouldn’t surprise us then that Syrian citizens, Friends of Syria and the international community are hedging their bets. The SNC has not given anyone a credible reason to support them. Until the opposition coordinates with the FSA more effectively and delivers a clear political agenda, opposition activists like Suheir Attasi will remain frustrated. It also means that Professor Ghalioun’s prediction will come true: more blood will flow. 

 

Rebel forces in Syria. Credit: Getty Images

Tam Hussein is an award winning writer and journalist specialising in the Middle East. He spent several years in the Middle East and North Africa working as a translator and consultant. Tam also writes for the Huffington Post.

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Scarred lands: visiting the villages Boko Haram left behind reveals the toxic legacy of terrorism

The progress and challenges of Nigerian communities rebuilding after Boko Haram’s insurgency begins to wane.

“Sometimes it’s when I go to bed that what happened comes back to me.” Two years ago, Boko Haram militants stormed into 23-year-old John Amida’s home late at night in a village in Gwoza, Borno State, northeast Nigeria. Shielding his eyes with his hands from the torchlight saved his life. He shows me the mark in the centre of his forearm where the bullet aimed for his head went instead.

“All my friends were either killed or abducted,” he says. “I don’t try to forget what happened because it’s not possible; it’s with you even when it is not in your mind. The best thing is just to keep on living every day.”

After a broadly effective 18-month military campaign, Boko Haram remains a deadly yet waning force. Many communities once occupied by Boko Haram are now liberated. In Adamawa, just south of Borno, over 630,000 people previously displaced by Boko Haram have returned home.

With them, over 170,000 internally displaced people (IDPs) now live in camps, or – like John and his family – in host communities. He and his family live in a home vacated and lent to them by a local. All over Adamawa, IDPs live in homes shared with residents or given to them temporarily in exchange for help, crops or token sums of rent.

Adamawa is a serene, largely rural, mountainous state. Even deep into the dry season, driving through the roads that cut between its vast countryside, its land is incredibly scenic. But within local communities, in more rural, isolated villages north of the state’s capital, Yola, the picture is more complicated.

Gombi, a small town a few hours’ drive from Yola, was recaptured from Boko Haram in late 2014. Much of what was destroyed in the insurgency – shops and small businesses – have been rebuilt or replaced. The local government buildings have been largely restored. The impact is still visible but, according to locals, decreasingly so.

But in less urban areas, like in Garaha, a village in Adamawa, rebuilt homes sit next to broken, abandoned houses, churches, mosques and buildings blackened by the fires that damaged them. Local government officials say the damage across Adamawa by the insurgency has set the state’s development back by a decade. Funding for rebuilding the state, which local governments complain is insufficient, is concentrated on urban areas.

According to Chief Suleimanu, a traditional ruler in Garaha, mental health issues are widespread but few are financially able to access support. While some people have been able to move on, others are still dealing with the consequences.

“Many couples and families have separated,” he tells me, detailing how in some couples one partner feels attached to their home while the other can’t face returning, or feel there is little to return to.

“The same with the children, some of the young people have gone to bigger cities like Kano or Abuja because of a lack of opportunities.”

Many returnees, who left camps in Cameroon to come back to Adamawa, are from families who have lived in their villages for generations. Their ancestral roots anchor them to their homes because their farmland is their main source of income. Non-agriculture-based industries provide few jobs. For many people, fleeing their homes meant abandoning their livelihoods.

As of 2015, 52 per cent of people in Nigeria lived in rural areas. Their relative isolation is a blessing and a curse. Larger rural spaces provide them with adequate land to cultivate their crops – but it also leaves them exposed.

During Boko Haram attacks on Garaha through to early 2015, there was minimal protection from security forces who often take hours to arrive.

For many people living in rural Adamawa, life is getting harder and easier at the same time. Armed herdsmen, mainly from the Fulani ethnicity have become a greater threat across Nigeria, partly due to tensions between land ownership and cattle grazing.

According to locals, killings by herdsmen have increased this year. But villages are addressing their vulnerability. Armed vigilantes, some of which formed due to the lack of military protection against Boko Haram, are increasing. The police services are often too far away or too under-resourced to protect them. But some vigilantes now have more weapons and vehicles due to help from state services and locals. It is not an ideal solution but it has made places like Garaha safer.

With this new-found relative safety, villagers have begun farming again. With cash grants and donated tools from charities like Tearfund, it has been easier for thousands of people to begin cultivating land. In many villages there are small, lively recreation centres where young people play snooker and watch sport. Many of their places of worship have been rebuilt.

But the situation is grimmer in communities where such charities are not present.  Without resources, state or non-government help, rebuilding is a real challenge.

Adamawa is a state maxing on its credit of hospitality, relative safety and appreciation of agriculture. A recession in Nigeria and a severe food crisis in the northeast have added pressures on returnees and IDPs. Liberated communities will need more help and attention before they truly feel free.

Emmanuel Akinwotu is a journalist based between Lagos and London who writes about Africa, migration, and specialises in Nigeria.