One Year After ISIS 'Defeat', Syria's Raqqa Still in Fear

A member of Raqqa's Internal Security Forces mans a checkpoint at the entrance of the Syrian city that was ruled by ISIS until a year ago | AFP
A member of Raqqa's Internal Security Forces mans a checkpoint at the entrance of the Syrian city that was ruled by ISIS until a year ago | AFP
TT

One Year After ISIS 'Defeat', Syria's Raqqa Still in Fear

A member of Raqqa's Internal Security Forces mans a checkpoint at the entrance of the Syrian city that was ruled by ISIS until a year ago | AFP
A member of Raqqa's Internal Security Forces mans a checkpoint at the entrance of the Syrian city that was ruled by ISIS until a year ago | AFP

A year after a US-backed alliance of Syrian fighters drove the ISIS terrorist group from the northern city of Raqqa, traumatized civilians still live in fear of near-daily bombings.

"Every day we wake up to the sound of an explosion," said resident Khaled al-Darwish.

"We're scared to send our children to school... there's no security," he added.

The hardliners' brutal rule in Raqqa was brought to an end in October 2017 after a months-long ground offensive by the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces supported by air strikes from a US-led coalition.

But despite manning roadblocks at every street corner, the SDF and the city's newly created Internal Security Forces are struggling to stem infiltration by ISIS sleeper cells.

At Raqqa's entrance, soldiers verify drivers' identity papers and carefully sift through lorry cargoes.

Inside the city, there are regular foot patrols and armored vehicles sit at strategic points.

Women wearing the niqab are asked to show their faces to female security members before entering public buildings.

"If there wasn't fear about a return of ISIS, there wouldn't be this increased military presence," said Darwish, a father of two, speaking near the infamous Paradise Square.

It was here that ISIS carried out decapitations and other brutal punishments, earning the intersection a new name -- "the roundabout of hell".

While the nightmare of extremist rule may be gone, most of the city still lies in ruins and there are near-daily attacks on checkpoints and military vehicles, according to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights.

Although a series of stinging defeats have cut ISIS's so-called caliphate down to desert hideouts, militants still manage to hit beyond the patches of ground they overtly control.

Some Raqqa residents say the city's new security forces lack the expertise to cope.

"We are exhausted. Every day we don't know if we will die in a bomb explosion or if we will go home safe and sound," said Abu Younes, sitting in his supermarket near a roundabout not far from Paradise Square.

"There is no security -- (the new security forces) on the roadblocks are not qualified and there is a lot of negligence," he complained.

"There are faults that enable ISIS to infiltrate the city easily and carry out attacks."

But despite the continued attacks, a semblance of normal life has returned to the city.

Shops have reopened and traffic has returned to major roads -- albeit choked by the impromptu checkpoints.

In a public garden, children climb up a multi-colored slide and onto dilapidated swings as their mothers sit on nearby benches carefully keeping watch.

They are set amidst an apocalyptic backdrop of twisted metal and splayed balconies -- the remnants of buildings torn apart by US-led coalition air raids.

Nearby, Ahmed al-Mohammed pauses as he listens to music on his phone. Like others, he does not hide his disquiet.

"We're scared because of the presence of ISIS members in the city," the 28-year-old said.

"The security forces need to tighten their grip."

Ahmed Khalaf, who commands Raqqa's Internal Security Forces, defended the work of his men and claimed successes against the jihadists.

He said patrols are highly organized and that a "joint operation cell" had recently been established with coalition forces to monitor the city's security.

"Recently we arrested four (extremists) -- it was a cell that took part in attacks that terrorized the city," said Khalaf, sporting plain green fatigues.

"We are continuing our investigation to uncover the other cells," he added.

"Daesh's goal is to destroy the country and to not let anyone live in safety," he said, using an Arabic acronym for ISIS.

Security and stability are what Najla al-Ahmed wants most for her children.

"The nightmare of ISIS follows us everywhere -- whenever we try to rest, explosions start up again," said the 36-year-old, as she shopped with her young ones.

"The war has worn us out. Us and our children. It has destroyed our future," she said.



Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
TT

Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi

In the Mazzeh 86 neighborhood, west of the Syrian capital Damascus, the names of many shops, grocery stores, and public squares still serve as a reminder of the era of ousted Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and his late father, Hafez al-Assad.

This is evident in landmarks like the “Al-Hafez Restaurant,” one of the prominent features of this area. Squares such as “Al-Areen,” “Officers,” and “Bride of the Mountain” evoke memories of the buildings surrounding them, which once housed influential officials and high-ranking officers in intelligence and security agencies. These individuals instilled fear in Syrians for five decades until their historic escape on the night of the regime’s collapse last month.

In this neighborhood, the effects of Israeli bombing are clearly visible, as it was targeted multiple times. Meanwhile, its narrow streets and alleys were strewn with military uniforms abandoned by leaders who fled before military operations arrived and liberated the area from their grip on December 8 of last year.

Here, stark contradictions come to light during a tour by Asharq Al-Awsat in a district that, until recently, was largely loyal to the former president. Muaz, a 42-year-old resident of the area, recounts how most officers and security personnel shed their military uniforms and discarded them in the streets on the night of Assad’s escape.

He said: “Many of them brought down their weapons and military ranks in the streets and fled to their hometowns along the Syrian coast.”

Administratively part of Damascus, Mazzeh 86 consists of concrete blocks randomly built between the Mazzeh Western Villas area, the Mazzeh Highway, and the well-known Sheikh Saad commercial district. Its ownership originally belonged to the residents of the Mazzeh area in Damascus. The region was once agricultural land and rocky mountain terrain. The peaks extending toward Mount Qasioun were previously seized by the Ministry of Defense, which instructed security and army personnel to build homes there without requiring property ownership documents.

Suleiman, a 30-year-old shop owner, who sells white meat and chicken, hails from the city of Jableh in the coastal province of Latakia. His father moved to this neighborhood in the 1970s to work as an army assistant.

Suleiman says he hears the sound of gunfire every evening, while General Security patrols roam the streets “searching for remnants of the former regime and wanted individuals who refuse to surrender their weapons. We fear reprisals and just want to live in peace.”

He mentioned that prices before December 8 were exorbitant and beyond the purchasing power of Syrians, with the price of a kilogram of chicken exceeding 60,000 Syrian pounds and a carton of eggs reaching 75,000.

“A single egg was sold for 2,500 pounds, which is far beyond the purchasing power of any employee in the public or private sector,” due to low salaries and the deteriorating living conditions across the country,” Suleiman added.

On the sides of the roads, pictures of the fugitive president and his father, Hafez al-Assad, were torn down, while military vehicles were parked, awaiting instructions.

Maram, 46, who previously worked as a civilian employee in the Ministry of Defense, says she is waiting for the resolution of employment statuses for workers in army institutions. She stated: “So far, there are no instructions regarding our situation. The army forces and security personnel have been given the opportunity for settlement, but there is no talk about us.”

The neighborhood, in its current form, dates back to the 1980s when Rifaat al-Assad, the younger brother of former President Hafez al-Assad, was allowed to construct the “Defense Palace,” which was referred to as “Brigade 86.” Its location is the same area now known as Mazzeh Jabal 86.

The area is divided into two parts: Mazzeh Madrasa (School) and Mazzeh Khazan (Tank). The first takes its name from the first school built and opened in the area, while the second is named after the water tank that supplies the entire Mazzeh region.

Two sources from the Mazzeh Municipality and the Mukhtar’s office estimate the neighborhood’s current population at approximately 200,000, down from over 300,000 before Assad’s fall. Most residents originate from Syria’s coastal regions, followed by those from interior provinces like Homs and Hama. There was also a portion of Kurds who had moved from the Jazira region in northeastern Syria to live there, but most returned to their areas due to the security grip and after the “Crisis Cell” bombing that killed senior security officials in mid-2012.

Along the main street connecting Al-Huda Square to Al-Sahla Pharmacy, torn images of President Hafez al-Assad are visible for the first time in this area in five decades. On balconies and walls, traces of Bashar al-Assad’s posters remain, bearing witness to his 24-year era.