For Syrians, the Road to Justice Begins in Europe

For Wassim Mukdad, 36, standing up in a German courtroom to recount his ordeal in a Syrian detention centre was, he said, like throwing off the shackles - AFP
For Wassim Mukdad, 36, standing up in a German courtroom to recount his ordeal in a Syrian detention centre was, he said, like throwing off the shackles - AFP
TT

For Syrians, the Road to Justice Begins in Europe

For Wassim Mukdad, 36, standing up in a German courtroom to recount his ordeal in a Syrian detention centre was, he said, like throwing off the shackles - AFP
For Wassim Mukdad, 36, standing up in a German courtroom to recount his ordeal in a Syrian detention centre was, he said, like throwing off the shackles - AFP

Wassim Mukdad has carried a deep darkness inside of him since his native Syria slipped into an abyss of conflict and terror.

But on a summer's day in western Germany in an ancient city 3,000 kilometres (1,900 miles) away from Damascus, he finally glimpsed a "ray of light".

On that day, August 19, 2020, the refugee took the witness stand in a Koblenz courtroom to recount the ordeal he suffered in a Syrian detention center.

At that time, buoyed by the Arab Spring uprisings sweeping the Middle East, a sea of fists in the air rallied protesters calling for Syrian President Bashar al-Assad to go.

They were struck down however by a wave of brutal repression.

Mukdad, now 36, who was looking for a protest to join when he was picked up by police, was among those dragged to Al-Khatib prison in the Syrian capital on September 30, 2011.

Almost 10 years on, standing before the German court he described being blindfolded and interrogated three times in the prison as if it had all happened yesterday, AFP reported.

Not only were questions flung at him.

Lashes also flew, lacerating the soles of his feet -- targeted in particular for the excruciating pain every time he later tried to stand up or walk.

It was only on that August day that he finally threw off his shackles, he said.

"I finally had the feeling that my story counted, that the sufferings were not for nothing," said the musician, who plays the oud, a lute-like instrument.

Mukdad is among the Syrian exiles who have turned to European courts to ensure that state-sponsored crimes in Syria do not go unpunished.

Many arrived in Europe in the huge influx of asylum seekers fleeing war in Syria and Iraq in 2015, with Germany having taken in more than one million people since then.

Cases have been filed in Germany, Austria, Sweden and Norway against officials in Assad's regime by around 100 refugees, backed by Berlin NGO, the European Center for Constitutional and Human Rights (ECCHR).

Across Europe, activists are joining forces with police and UN investigators in collecting testimonies, sifting through tens of thousands of photos, videos and files of one of the best documented conflicts in history.

Using social media, they are forming networks to track down regime officers, who they say shed their uniforms to blend in among the tide of refugees arriving in Europe.

Syrian activists believe that around a thousand such suspects have slipped into the continent.

The estimate is impossible to verify but among them is the former brigadier-general of Raqa, Khaled al-Halabi, who according to Austrian media has been granted asylum in Vienna.

German authorities have arrested and charged a Syrian doctor accused of having tortured wounded people in a military hospital in the city of Homs.

Two cousins of an alleged victim, who like the doctor are refugees in Europe, picked the suspect out on a photograph, according to an activist lawyer.

At the Koblenz court, where Mukdad testified, the first verdict has been handed down against Eyad al-Gharib, who was found guilty of complicity in crimes against humanity.

It was the first court case worldwide over state-sponsored torture by Assad's government.

The trial against a second defendant is ongoing.

A former colonel, Anwar Raslan, faces life in prison over the deaths of 58 people in the Al-Khatib jail.

Having taken in the largest overall number of refugees since 2015, Germany, Europe's biggest economy, has been particularly active in pursuing cases against potential suspects.

In France and Sweden too, investigations are under way.

The Syrians are bringing their cases under the principle of universal jurisdiction, which allows a country to prosecute crimes against humanity, war crimes and genocide regardless of where they were committed.

For now, it is the only legal avenue for alleged crimes in Syria's civil war as international justice has been hamstrung for years, said Catherine Marchi-Uhel, who heads the International, Impartial and Independent Mechanism (IIIM), charged by the UN since 2016 to investigate crimes committed in Syria.

"The UN Security Council can refer a case to the International Criminal Court and that was what happened in 2014," she said.

But the draft resolution to refer the situation in Syria to the ICC was "blocked by Russia and China which used their vetoes," she added.

Under universal jurisdiction, however, Germany and France issued international arrest warrants in 2018 against Jamil Hassan, who headed the Syrian air force's intelligence until 2019.

Paris has also started proceedings against Ali Mamlouk, who supervised the security apparatus.

German lawyer Patrick Kroker, who represents civil plaintiffs in Koblenz, said that many European countries were still hesitant to act.

"Because of fear of 'politically motivated' complaints," he said, these countries "have reduced the possibilities of prosecuting mass crimes to a bare minimum."

Mukdad's involvement as co-plaintiff began by chance at a barbecue in a Berlin park in 2019.

There, he got talking to lawyer Joumana Seif, who last year initiated a lawsuit over rape and sexual abuse in Syrian prisons, and asked Mukdad if he would be prepared to testify against Raslan.

"Of course," Mukdad replied.

Several weeks later, he was giving evidence to German police.

But not all refugees are so forthcoming.

Many fear endangering their relatives in Syria. Others are reluctant to relive the pain.

Arguably the most prolific "torturer hunter" in Berlin, Anwar al-Bunni has made a 19th-century former brasserie his office.

The lawyer, who languished for five years in Syrian prisons, knows Raslan after being arrested by him in Damascus in 2006.

More than a decade later, he said he came face to face with Raslan again in Berlin outside an asylum seekers' home where they were lodged.

"I told myself, I know him. But it was impossible to recall from where," he said.

In March 2015, he ran into Raslan again in a shop.

By then, he had remembered exactly how he knew him.

"But at that time I had no clue what I could do against him," said Bunni.

The third time they met, Raslan was in the dock and Bunni on the witness stand.

"I looked at him. But he ignored me."

For the indefatigable activist who collects victims' testimonies, the opening of the Koblenz trial in April 2020 "marked a turning point".

"Syrians are regaining hope as they see that justice is working," he said.

"There are lots of people who now want to talk, we no longer have enough time to receive them all," he said, his mobile phone appearing to corroborate the demand with an incessant buzz indicating incoming messages.

In Paris, another Syrian lawyer, Mazen Darwish, is on a similar quest with an informal group of investigators from the Syrian Center for Media and Freedom of Expression (SCM).

With two other NGOs, Darwish has filed two cases with German and French prosecutors over chemical attacks blamed on Assad's regime.

But witness accounts are not enough to secure convictions, material proof is indispensable too.

The Commission for International Justice and Accountability (CIJA) has taken up the herculean task of collecting this evidence.

There is no official address for the group, funded by the United States, European Union and Britain.

There is not even a sign at the entrance to its office.

Anonymity is so important for the CIJA that before meeting its founder Bill Wiley, one must agree to not reveal even the name of the city where the organization keeps its precious archive of over a million Syrian regime documents.

Among the files locked up in a secured room are papers from the military, security and intelligences services.

Facing a rout in fighting at the time, "the regime abandoned many buildings, leaving behind stacks of documents," said Wiley, who has also worked with prosecutors at the International Criminal Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda.

"We made deals with armed opposition groups to not destroy them," he said.

"Our teams were close to the operation and could run out to get the documents or people would get calls from their contacts from security intelligence services."

Up to 50 CIJA staff risked their lives in the operation.

"What was most dangerous was transporting the documents out of Syria even as the frontlines were changing constantly," he said.

At the CIJA's headquarters, teams of analysts then carried out the complex task of untangling the web of responsibilities and "placing top officials into the structures of command."

In the Raslan case, the organization sent investigators two reports bearing the signature of the accused.

Since 2016, it has received 569 requests for documents held in the CIJA secret archive from 13 Western nations regarding 1,229 people linked to the regime.

In the town of Meckenheim, southwest of Bonn, Germany's Central Office for Combating War Crimes is seeing files linked to the Syrian conflict pile up.

In less than a decade, its staff has tripled to 28.

Since the beginning of the war, German justice like that of Sweden has been collecting evidence of potential crimes.

Between 2017 and 2019, some 105 investigations were opened in Germany.

Not all are linked to Syria, but 27 of them concern war crimes and 18 relate to crimes against humanity, according to a government document.

Like France, Germany's immigration authority routinely asks asylum applicants if they were witness to war crimes or crimes against humanity and flag these to the police.

Such cases have leapt from two in 2012 to 1,560 in 2015.

National investigators are also not working in isolation.

It was through French-German collaboration that Raslan and two other suspects were arrested in February 2019 in France.

Additionally, investigators share their information with the UN team.

Mukdad returned to Koblenz last month.

Dawn was just breaking as he stood in line for a seat in court.

Stone-faced, he listened as it handed down the historic conviction, sentencing Gharib, a former intelligence agent, to four and a half years in prison.

"The ruling is a relief," said Mukdad.

"But it's just the beginning. Because it's Bashar al-Assad and his inner circle who we're after."



25 Years of Unanswered Questions in Iraq

A Saddam Hussein mural is seen in Baghdad in 1991. (Getty Images)
A Saddam Hussein mural is seen in Baghdad in 1991. (Getty Images)
TT

25 Years of Unanswered Questions in Iraq

A Saddam Hussein mural is seen in Baghdad in 1991. (Getty Images)
A Saddam Hussein mural is seen in Baghdad in 1991. (Getty Images)

People in Iraq often wonder dejectedly: What if Saddam Hussein were alive and ruling the country today? Many will reply with fantastical answers, but Saddam’s era would have responded: Iraq is isolated, either by siege or by a war that he launched or was being waged against him.

Many people cast doubt on whether actual change has been achieved in Iraq since the US invasion in 2003. The invasion ousted the Baath version of Iraq and Saddam was executed in December 2006, leaving questions to pile up over the years with no one having any answers.

After a quarter century, Iraq is accumulating questions. It casts them aside and forges ahead without addressing them. At best, it reviews itself and returns to that moment in April 2003 when the US launched its invasion. Or it asks new questions about the 2005 civil war, the armed alternatives that emerged in 2007, how ISIS swept through the country in 2014, or the wave of protests that erupted in 2019. It also asks new questions about Iran’s influence in the country that has persisted for decades.

The questions are many and none of the Iraqis have answered them.

A US marine wraps the American flag around the head of a Saddam Hussein statue in Baghdad. (Reuters file)

Saddam and the alternative

The September 11, 2001, attacks shook the United States and the entire world. They struck fear in Baghdad. Saddam had that year claimed that he had written a book, “The Fortified Castle”, about an Iraqi soldier who is captured by Iran. He manages to escape and return to Iraq to “fortify the castle”.

The terrifying Saddam and the terrified Iraqis have long spun tales about escaping to and from Iraq. It is a journey between the question and the non-answers. That year, when Baghdad was accused of being complicit in the 9/11 attacks, Saddam’s son Uday was “elected” member of the Baath party’s leadership council. The move sparked debate about possible change in Iraq. Bashar al-Assad had a year earlier inherited the presidency of Syria and its Baath party from his father Hafez.

The US invaded Iraq two years later and a new Iraq was born. Twenty-five years later, the country is still not fully grown up. Twenty-one years ago, on April 9, 2003, a US marine wrapped the head of a Saddam statue in Baghdad with an American flag. The Iraqis asked: why didn’t you leave us this iconic image, but instead of an American flag, used an Iraqi one?

Baghdad’s question and Washington’s answer

As the Iraqis observe the developments unfold in Syris with the ouster of Bashar from power, they can’t help but ask how this rapid “change” could have been possible without US tanks and weapons. Why are the Syrians insisting on celebrating “freedom” every day? They are also astonished at the Syrians who scramble to greet Abu Mohammed al-Golani, who has not yet managed to put this image behind him and fully assume his original identity of Ahmed al-Sharaa. The Iraqis wonder how the Syrians are managing this transition so far without a bloodbath.

They ask these questions because the Iraqis view and judge the world based on their own memories. They keep asking questions and await answers from others instead of themselves.

The Iraqis recall how in August 2003, after four months of US occupation, that the Jordanian embassy and United Nations offices were attacked, leaving several staff dead, including head of the UN mission Sergio de Mello. The Americans arrested Ali Hassan al-Majid, or “chemical Ali”, Saddam’s cousin, and 125 people were killed in a bombing in al-Najaf, including Shiite cleric Mohammed Baqer al-Hakim.

During that bloody month, the Iraqis asked questions about security, forgetting about Saddam’s alternative, democracy and the promised western model. Later, the facts would answer that the question of security was a means to escape questions about transitional justice.

Sergio de Mello (r) and Paul Bremmer (second right) attend the inaugural meeting of the Iraqi Governing Council in Baghdad on July 13, 2003. (Getty Images)

The question of civil war

Paul Bremer, the American ruler of Iraq, once escorted four opposition figures to Saddam’s prison cell. They flooded him with questions. Adnan al-Pachachi, a veteran diplomat, asked: “Why did you invade Kuwait?” Adel Abdul Mahdi, a former prime minister, asked: “Why did you kill the Kurds in the Anfal massacre?” Mowaffak al-Rubaie, a former national security adviser, asked: “Why did you kill your Baath comrades?” Ahmed al-Halabi simply insulted the former president. Saddam recoiled and then just smiled.

Saddam’s opponents left the prison cell with answers that should have helped them in running the transitional justice administration, but they failed.

The following year, Washington appointed Ayad Allawi to head the interim Iraqi Governing Council (IGC) that had limited jurisdiction so that it could be free to wage two fierce battles: one in Najaf against the “Mahdi Army”, headed by Moqtada al-Sadr, and the other against armed groups comprised of “resistance fighters” and “extremists” in Fallujah.

The opposition in the IGC got to work that was already prepared by the Americans. They outlined the distribution of Shiites, Sunnis and Kurds in the country, with historic questions about the majority and minority, and the “oppressed” now assuming rule after the ouster of the “oppressors”.

On the ground, the Ghazaliya neighborhood in western Baghdad with its Shiite and Sunni residents was in store for a bloodbath. On a winter night in 2005, an entire family was massacred and an enfant strangled to death. Soon after, lines drawing the Shiite and Sunni sections of the neighborhood emerged. The popular market became the tense border between the two halves. Two new rival “enemies” traded attacks, claiming several lives.

In Baghdad’s Green Zone, the IGC drew up a draft of the transitional rule. In January 2005, 8 million Iraqis voted for the establishment of a National Assembly.

Meanwhile, different “armies” kept on emerging in Baghdad. The media was filled with the death tolls of bloody relentless sectarian attacks. Checkpoints manned by masked gunmen popped up across the capital.

Those days seemed to answer the question of “who was the alternative to Saddam.” No one needed a concrete answer because the developments spoke for themselves.

Nouri al-Maliki came to power as prime minister in 2006. He famously declared: “I am the state of law” - in both the figurative and literal sense. Iraqis believed he had answers about the “state” and “law”, dismissing the very pointed “I” in his “manifesto”.

Nouri al-Maliki. (Getty Images)

The Maliki question

The American admired Maliki. Then Vice President Dick Cheney had repeatedly declared that he was committed to the establishment of a stable Iraq. Before that however, he had dispatched James Steele - who was once complicit in running dirty wars in El Salvador in the mid-1980s - to Baghdad to confront the “Sunni rebellion”. Steele set up the Shiite “death squads”. Steele was the man in the shadows behind Ahmed Kazim, then interior minister undersecretary, and behind him stood the new warlords.

In 2006, the political process was shaken by the bombing of the Al-Askari Shrine in Samarra. Questions were asked about the “need” to draw up new maps. Shiite high authority Ali al-Sistani said in February 2007 that the Sunnis were not involved in the attack. In July 2013, Maliki denied an American accusation that Tehran was behind it.

In those days, Maliki’s ego was growing ever bigger, and Steele’s death squads were rapidly growing greater in numbers.

The Iran and ISIS questions

Maliki tried to save himself as one city after another fell into the hands of ISIS. On June 9, 2014, as ISIS was waging battles in Mosul, Maliki met with senior Sunni tribal elders based on advice he had not heeded earlier and which could have averted the current disaster.

It was said that he made reluctant pledges to them and a third of Iraq later fell in ISIS’ hands. Sistani later issued a fatwa for “jihad” against the group, which later turned out not be aimed at saving the premier.

Maliki left the scene and Qassem Soleimani, commander of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps’ (IRGC) Quds Force, took over. Successive prime ministers would know from then on what it is like to be shackled by Tehran’s pressure as IRGC officials made regular visits to their offices.

Soleimani reaped what Steele sowed. By 2017, armed factions were the dominant force in Iraq. Running in their orbit were other factions that took turns in “rebelling” against the government or agreeing with its choices.

Today, and after 14 years, Iran has consolidated what can be described as the “resistance playground” in Iraq that is teeming with armed factions and massive budgets.

Protesters in Baghdad’s Tahrir Square in October 2019. (AFP)

The October question

The Iraqis were unable to answer the ISIS question and the armed factions claimed “victory” against the group. Many ignored Sistani’s “answer” about whether the Popular Mobilization Forces (PMF) was there to protect Iraq or just its Shiites.

Exhausted Iraqis asked: “What next?”

Next came Adel Abdul Mahdi’s government in October 2018. It was weighed down by unanswered questions and a year later, thousands of youths took to the streets to protest the state of affairs in Iraq, specifically the dominance of armed groups.

They were met with live bullets. Many were abducted and others were silenced. Abdul Mehdi acquitted the killers, saying instead that a “fifth column” had carried out the bloody crackdown on protesters.

After he left office, some Iraqi politicians were brave enough to tell the truth, dismissing former PM’s acquittal and pinning blame on the factions.

Sistani called for PMF members to quit their partisan affiliations. His demand was left unheeded. Mustafa al-Qadhimi became prime minister in May 2020. He left office months later, also failing in resolving the issue of the PMF and armed factions.

By 2022, everyone had left the scene, but Iran remained, claiming the Iraqi crown for itself, controlling everything from its finances to its weapons.

Question about post-Assad Syria

On December 8, Syria’s Bashar fled the country. Everyone in Iraq is asking what happens next. The whole system in Iraq is at a loss: Do we wait for how Tehran will deal with Ahmed al-Sharaa, or do we ask Abu Mohammed al-Golani about his memories in Iraq?

The Iraqi people’s memories are what’s ruling the country, more so than the constitution, political parties and civil society because they are burdened with questions they don’t want to answer.

And yet they ask: What if we weren’t part of the “Axis of Resistance”? Iraq’s history would reply that it has long been part of axes, or either awaiting a war or taking part in them.