Syria's Ancient Aleppo Souk Poised to Regain Its Bustle

Laborers take part in restoration work at Saqatiya market in the old quarter of Syria's second city of Aleppo | AFP
Laborers take part in restoration work at Saqatiya market in the old quarter of Syria's second city of Aleppo | AFP
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Syria's Ancient Aleppo Souk Poised to Regain Its Bustle

Laborers take part in restoration work at Saqatiya market in the old quarter of Syria's second city of Aleppo | AFP
Laborers take part in restoration work at Saqatiya market in the old quarter of Syria's second city of Aleppo | AFP

On the domed roof of a historical market in the northern Syrian city of Aleppo, architect Bassel al-Daher moves between workers painstakingly working to erase the scars of war.

Men wearing vests and helmets repair parts of the roof still bearing visible traces of the four-year-long battle for the former rebel stronghold.

They cover its charred surface with a fresh coat of white paint as part of a wider effort to rehabilitate the Saqatiya market, or souk in Arabic.

Located in the old quarters of Syria's second city, the market dates back to the Ottoman period.

"I feel like I'm redrawing history by restoring this souk," says Daher, 42, one of six architects overseeing its revival as the country's conflict marks its eighth year next week.

"For me, it's the project of a lifetime."

The Saqatiya souk covers an area of more than 1,500 square meters (16,000 square feet) and used to house more than 50 shops before Syria's conflict landed in Aleppo in 2012.

It is located near other landmarks of Aleppo's Old City, a UNESCO-listed World Heritage Site that served as a frontline during clashes that ended in 2016.

Russia-backed regime forces that year retook control of the eastern side of the city, much of which remains in ruins.

The celebrated citadel, a jewel of medieval architecture whose surrounding wall was damaged by a blast in July 2015, is visible from the market's roof.

The Umayyad mosque, an ancient site that dates back to the 11th century, is within walking distance.

Clashes in April 2013 reduced the mosque's minaret to an unrecognizable pile of blocks.

UNESCO estimates that as much as 60 percent of the Old City was severely damaged.

Saqatiya market fared better than most, with 30 percent battered during the fighting, says Daher.

It shows signs of major damage but no sign of collapse, Syria's antiquities authority said in a report last month.

Restoration works began on November 1 after Syrian authorities signed a partnership agreement with the Aga Khan Foundation in Syria.

Renovations are expected to be completed in July, according to Daher.

Workers are focusing on erasing all "signs of war" from the market and correct old construction violations.

"The broader aim is to bring merchants back to their shops," he says.

Saqatiya market is one of around 37 souks surrounding the Aleppo citadel, the oldest of their kind in the world.

They stretch from the western part of the Old City to the gates of the citadel in the east, covering an area of around 160,000 square meters.

For centuries, they were the commercial heart of the ancient city and served as a key trading hub between the East and the West, says Alaa al-Sayyed, a historian and specialist on the Old City.

The expert, who is also overseeing the restoration, says "they are more than 2,000 years old".

"They are the longest and oldest covered markets in the world," he says.

They consist of dozens of shops, schools, mosques, and bathhouses.

In their long history, this is not the first time the markets have had to be restored.

Over two millennia, they have weathered numerous earthquakes and conquests, but "every time they were rebuilt", he says.

Diyaa al-Issa, 38, wears a white helmet and uniform as he works on renovating a massive gate in the market.

He is one of around 60 men involved in restoration works.

Before the conflict, Issa used to work in renovation and maintenance of the city's ancient heritage.

"Renovations today are nothing like those we used to carry out in the past," he says.

"We used to restore stones affected by moisture, wind and time," he says.

"But today we are treating stones that have been charred and damaged by shrapnel, and we are rebuilding some domes that have been completely destroyed."

Issa hopes the souk can be restored in a way that does not alter its historical character or dispense with too many of the original materials.

His colleague, Mohammed Baqiya, 47, is looking forward to the market coming back to life.

"The stone will be restored," he says.

But "what is most important is the return of shop owners and people who used to bring life to the souk", he says.

"It does not matter how beautiful the souk will be," he says. It will mean nothing "if it is empty of people".



Sudan's Relentless War: A 70-Year Cycle of Conflict


Army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan (left) and RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti, pictured during their alliance to oust Omar al-Bashir in 2019 (AFP)
Army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan (left) and RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti, pictured during their alliance to oust Omar al-Bashir in 2019 (AFP)
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Sudan's Relentless War: A 70-Year Cycle of Conflict


Army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan (left) and RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti, pictured during their alliance to oust Omar al-Bashir in 2019 (AFP)
Army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan (left) and RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti, pictured during their alliance to oust Omar al-Bashir in 2019 (AFP)

While world conflicts dominate headlines, Sudan’s deepening catastrophe is unfolding largely out of sight; a brutal war that has killed tens of thousands, displaced millions, and flattened entire cities and regions.

More than a year into the conflict, some observers question whether the international community has grown weary of Sudan’s seemingly endless cycles of violence. The country has endured nearly seven decades of civil war, and what is happening now is not an exception, but the latest chapter in a bloody history of rebellion and collapse.

The first of Sudan’s modern wars began even before the country gained independence from Britain. In 1955, army officer Joseph Lagu led the southern “Anyanya” rebellion, named after a venomous snake, launching a guerrilla war that would last until 1972.

A peace agreement brokered by the World Council of Churches and Ethiopia’s late Emperor Haile Selassie ended that conflict with the signing of the Addis Ababa Accord.

But peace proved short-lived. In 1983, then-president Jaafar Nimeiry reignited tensions by announcing the imposition of Islamic Sharia law, known as the “September Laws.” The move prompted the rise of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM), led by John Garang, and a renewed southern insurgency that raged for more than two decades, outliving Nimeiry’s regime.

Under Omar al-Bashir, who seized power in a 1989 military coup, the war took on an Islamist tone. His government declared “jihad” and mobilized civilians in support of the fight, but failed to secure a decisive victory.

The conflict eventually gave way to the 2005 Comprehensive Peace Agreement, better known as the Naivasha Agreement, which was brokered in Kenya and granted South Sudan the right to self-determination.

In 2011, more than 95% of South Sudanese voted to break away from Sudan, giving birth to the world’s newest country, the Republic of South Sudan. The secession marked the culmination of decades of war, which began with demands for a federal system and ended in full-scale conflict. The cost: over 2 million lives lost, and a once-unified nation split in two.

But even before South Sudan’s independence became reality, another brutal conflict had erupted in Sudan’s western Darfur region in 2003. Armed rebel groups from the region took up arms against the central government, accusing it of marginalization and neglect. What followed was a ferocious counterinsurgency campaign that drew global condemnation and triggered a major humanitarian crisis.

As violence escalated, the United Nations deployed one of its largest-ever peacekeeping missions, the African Union-United Nations Hybrid Operation in Darfur (UNAMID), in a bid to stem the bloodshed.

Despite multiple peace deals, including the Juba Agreement signed in October 2020 following the ousting of long-time Islamist ruler, Bashir, fighting never truly ceased.

The Darfur war alone left more than 300,000 people dead and millions displaced. The International Criminal Court charged Bashir and several top officials, including Ahmed Haroun and Abdel Raheem Muhammad Hussein, with war crimes and crimes against humanity.

Alongside the southern conflict, yet another war erupted in 2011, this time in the Nuba Mountains of South Kordofan and the Blue Nile region. The fighting was led by Abdelaziz al-Hilu, head of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement–North (SPLM–N), a group composed largely of northern fighters who had sided with the South during the earlier civil war under John Garang.

The conflict broke out following contested elections marred by allegations of fraud, and Khartoum’s refusal to implement key provisions of the 2005 Naivasha Agreement, particularly those related to “popular consultations” in the two regions. More than a decade later, war still grips both areas, with no lasting resolution in sight.

Then came April 15, 2023. A fresh war exploded, this time in the heart of the capital, Khartoum, pitting the Sudanese Armed Forces against the powerful paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF). Now entering its third year, the conflict shows no signs of abating.

According to international reports, the war has killed more than 150,000 people and displaced around 13 million, the largest internal displacement crisis on the planet. Over 3 million Sudanese have fled to neighboring countries.

Large swathes of the capital lie in ruins, and entire states have been devastated. With Khartoum no longer viable as a seat of power, the government and military leadership have relocated to the Red Sea city of Port Sudan.

Unlike previous wars, Sudan’s current conflict has no real audience. Global pressure on the warring factions has been minimal. Media coverage is sparse. And despite warnings from the United Nations describing the crisis as “the world’s worst humanitarian catastrophe,” Sudan's descent into chaos remains largely ignored by the international community.