security, social reality on Syrian coast: massacres, anxiety, disappointments - Diaa Iskandar

When geography fails to protect its inhabitants, and nature becomes just a mute witness, the land turns into a stage of silence, and the sea an archive of pain. Life retreats, and hope is buried under the rubble of helplessness and oblivion.

Four months of smoke and tears, and the Syrian coast still bleeds wounds that have not healed. Massacres left their victims as food for the sea fish; and in the place where the sea was supposed to be a refuge for the residents, it has turned into a mass grave that occasionally spits out the remains of people who were not even granted the right to a burial.

The mountains that were once silent fortresses can now only record the chapters of tragedy in the memory of their rocks and burned forests. The coast, which was once the "safe haven," is now being slowly and mercilessly slaughtered, while the world ignores its final cries.

Roots of the tragedy: Before the ambush

Some trace the beginning of the wound to the sixth of March, when an ambush was set for a faction of the General Security Forces, but it is merely a continuation of the atrocities committed against the Syrians, from Aleppo to Qardaha, and from al-Suqaylabiyah to the forgotten remote villages. The harshest were in the northwestern countryside of Homs, specifically in the villages of Fahl and Maryamin, associated with the Alawite and Murshidi sects, where the residents were humiliated in the most brutal ways: they were forced to lie down and crawl, imitate the barking of dogs and the braying of donkeys, before these humiliations culminated in the killing of several civilians, not for any crime they committed, but merely for their sectarian affiliation.

The incident in the village of "Ain al-Shams," part of the Masyaf countryside on February 27, was no less brutal, as dozens were killed, humiliated, and arrested under the pretext of "pursuing remnants." This was followed by the "Dattour Massacre" in Lattakia on March 4, which claimed the lives of several civilians, including a woman and her child, after a clash that resulted in the deaths of two security forces members in a confrontation with armed groups loyal to the fallen regime.

Quantitative accumulation leads to qualitative change.

This terrifying accumulation of disgraceful incidents generated intense resentment in many, until it exploded at the moment of the aforementioned ambush, turning the coast into a stage for massacres that targeted thousands of Alawite community members, forcing large numbers of residents to flee to Lebanon or to other relatively safe Syrian cities.

As for the greatest catastrophe, it lies in the ambiguity that still shrouds the number of victims and the missing to this day. The figures vary to the point of shock; while some claim that the number of dead does not exceed two thousand, others confirm that the tragedy has surpassed the twenty thousand mark, and perhaps even more.

In the face of widespread anger locally, regionally, and internationally, a fact-finding committee was formed to investigate the crimes committed during the days of the massacres. The committee was given a one-month deadline starting from March 9, 2025, but this was extended for another three months on the grounds that the period was insufficient to cover all the facts. There is significant outrage and discontent among the majority of the affected, who do not trust this committee and are demanding an international tribunal due to their lack of confidence in the integrity of the local investigation and its ability to deliver justice.

However, the tragedy has not yet been resolved; violations, abductions, and assassinations continue to this day. The only difference is that they are now carried out away from cameras, after videos they filmed themselves exposed them, boasting about their crimes, mocking any consequences, confident that no justice would reach them.

Now, it can be said that the main cities on the coast (Latakia, Jableh, Baniyas, and Tartus), despite the voluntary curfew that starts from sunset until the next morning, due to the fear of kidnapping, arrest, or murder - generally enjoy quiet during the day, and the necessities of life are available at better prices than before. However, this apparent calm conceals a growing paralysis within state institutions, which operate with a hollow spirit, as if life has quietly withdrawn from them in a funeral-like manner, producing only the bare minimum of services.

This is largely attributed to thousands of employees being unable to reach their workplaces, either due to the scarcity of transportation means or as a result of being laid off in recent waves of exclusion. As for those who remain in service, they often spend their meager salaries entirely on transportation fares, leaving them with nothing to get through the day.

On the other hand, the coastal countryside continues to suffer under the weight of danger. People there sleep in fear and wake up to the sound of gunfire, rushing from their homes to the fields and thickets, fearing massacres that might surprise them in the darkness of night. Many families, whose homes were looted or burned, fled to the cities and rented temporary houses, hoping for a salvation whose features are still unclear.

In the midst of this troubled reality, the idea of fleeing is no longer an individual dream; it has transformed into a collective wish echoed in gatherings and on the lips of both the young and the old. We would not exaggerate if we said that the majority of the coastal residents, if given the opportunity to leave for any place in this world, would not hesitate for a moment. However, the dire circumstances on one hand and the closed doors of asylum on the other make this dream a kind of impossibility.

Popular sentiment: From rejecting federalism to justifying division

The majority of the coastal residents live in a state of apprehension and anxiety, and in the absence of official media and free media, their only sources of news have become Facebook pages and personal contacts over the internet. In this media vacuum, amidst the successive collapses, the compass in people's hearts has changed.

Those who, until recently, vehemently rejected even hearing the phrase "Autonomous Administration" which the fallen regime had always promoted as synonymous with separation and treason have today come to accept not only federalism but even division. Not out of political conviction, but merely out of a desire to survive. They have begun to bitterly justify the idea, relying on the horrors they have endured over the past months; for they have nothing left to lose but fear itself.

A country suspended between two fires

What is happening in the Syrian coast is not just a security crisis or a fleeting political disturbance, but an open wound in the flank of a nation teetering on the brink of collapse.

Between a decaying authority unable to protect, a fragmented opposition that has failed to unite its ranks, and a frightened people lost among the rubble of disappointments the country remains suspended between two fires:

The fire of waiting, and the fire of extinction.

And if an equitable conclusion is not written for this reality, what is being inscribed today on the walls of the villages are not temporary slogans, but the last wills of the departed, messages before the final loss.

However, even in the darkest moments, there remains in the hearts a spark of hope that massacres cannot extinguish, and a flash of dignity that rifles cannot suppress.

From beneath the rubble, stories will rise.

And from the ruins of the afflicted villages, new voices will be born; not to seek revenge, but to bear witness, to mend, to restore the sea's clarity, the mountains' majesty, and the human right to live without fear.

And among the ruins of the afflicted villages, new voices will emerge; not to seek revenge, but to bear witness, to mend, to restore the sea's clarity, the mountains' majesty, and the human right to live without fear.

T/S

ANHA