Normalization of Ties with Damascus and Caesar Act

A truck crosses the Syria-Jordan border after it was reopened on Wednesday (Reuters)
A truck crosses the Syria-Jordan border after it was reopened on Wednesday (Reuters)
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Normalization of Ties with Damascus and Caesar Act

A truck crosses the Syria-Jordan border after it was reopened on Wednesday (Reuters)
A truck crosses the Syria-Jordan border after it was reopened on Wednesday (Reuters)

The train of normalization of ties bound for Damascus has departed. Still, the dispute remains over how fast it should go, the stops it should make, and the challenges and reforms needed for its railway to reach the Syrian capital.

A few have boarded the train openly, others secretly, while some have booked a ticket and set conditions for them to make the trip. However, many are waiting for the test results, monitoring the regime’s behavior while betting on sanctions and isolation taking effect.

In late 2018, Damascus received the first dose of Arab normalization of ties with the UAE, Bahrain, and other Arab countries, reopening their embassies. They joined a host of other nations like Egypt, Jordan, Oman, Iraq, and Algeria. These countries did not shut down their embassies in Syria, even after the Arab League had suspended Damascus’ membership in 2011.

The Czech Republic was the only European country that kept its ambassador in Damascus to represent both itself and US interests.

Since the spring of 2012, Western countries have either altogether boycotted Damascus and shut down their embassies or resorted to transferring their ambassadors to Beirut for “security reasons” and allowing them to make periodic visits to Syria.

The same applies to Syria’s embassies abroad, most of which have been closed, except for some capitals, which either maintain a good political relationship with Damascus (such as Bucharest) or have international institutions that require the presence of a representative for the Syrian government, such as Vienna, Geneva, Paris, and New York.

The second dose of normalization took place this year, as European countries expanded their contacts with Damascus.

Some countries, such as Cyprus, Greece, and Spain, have extended the stay of their diplomats in Syria or have begun to dust off diplomatic headquarters in Damascus.

More so, Athens agreed to the presence of Syrian diplomats for the first time in years, and Ankara decided to replace diplomats at the Syrian consulate in Istanbul.

Security-wise, most of these countries were establishing or resuming intelligence contacts with Damascus.

Ali Mamlouk, the head of the National Security Bureau, had visited European capitals, including Rome, and stopped by Arab countries either overtly or covertly.

Mamlouk received several western intelligence officials from major European countries and envoys from the previous US administration to investigate the file of the missing US journalist, Austin Tice.

What’s New in Terms of Normalization of Ties?

Today, Damascus is taking its booster shot regarding the normalization of ties with officials taking the relationship beyond its security and diplomatic scope to the open political level. This can be witnessed at ministerial meetings with government delegates in New York when dealing with the Syrian opposition’s delegation is waning.

It can also be noticed through direct contact with President Bashar al-Assad in Damascus.

Previously, several countries avoided political contacts or direct communication with Assad in public.

Some countries even avoided changing their ambassador or appointing a charge d’affaires in Damascus in order not to give the Syrian president any credibility.

Nevertheless, matters appear to have changed now.

Without surprise, Iran and Russia, key regime backers in Syria, sent officials to Damascus to meet with Assad.

Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi’s public visit to Damascus, the first in a decade, took place on July 17, the same day Assad was sworn in as president once again. The top Chinese diplomat’s visit symbolically acknowledged the validity of Syrian presidential elections that were otherwise slammed by the West and the local opposition.

As far as communication with Assad goes, Abu Dhabi Crown Prince Sheikh Mohamed bin Zayed phoned the Syrian president concerning “humanitarian” support in the face of the “coronavirus pandemic” in early 2020.

Later, Iraqi President Barham Salih called Assad to explain why he was not invited to a recent summit in Baghdad.

However, what attracted attention was Jordanian King Abdullah II’s phone conversation with Assad a few days ago. The call had different dimensions.

Firstly, it came after the Jordanian monarch had met with US President Joe Biden and Russian President Vladimir Putin in July and August.

Amman revealed that the monarch reaffirmed “Jordan’s support for efforts to preserve Syria’s sovereignty, stability, territorial integrity, and people.”

Secondly, the call comes after King Abdullah telling CNN that the “Syrian regime was there to stay.”

Thirdly, Jordan has hosted the operations room led by the US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) to train thousands of Syrian opposition fighters against Damascus since 2013.

Fourthly, the call comes after Russia and Jordan succeeded in pushing Syrian opposition fighters in Daraa to surrender and hand over their arms, helping Assad’s government to fully return to the war-torn country’s south.

Fifth, it follows Amman hosting several Syrian ministers, including Defense Minister Ali Ayoub, to review the situation at borders between Jordan and Syria.

Sixth, the call ensues Amman getting the green light from the US to run natural gas pipelines and electricity networks from Egypt to Syria without facing sanctions.

What’s the Difference Between Normalization and Sanctions?

Washington had sanctioned more than 600 Syrian individuals and entities as of mid-2020, when the Caesar Syria Civilian Protection Act went into effect. Meanwhile, European countries sanctioned 350 individuals and entities.

The UK, after exiting the EU, issued its own sanctions list.

According to the Caesar Act, there are seven official stipulations to lift sanctions off Damascus and six political conditions to normalize ties with the Syrian capital. Four of the conditions for normalization date back to before the events of 2011.

Legally, any change to the Caesar Act requires Congress voting. But the US president has the right to suspend all or part of the sanctions for renewable periods not exceeding 180 days, if specific criteria are met:

i. The Syrian and Russian governments cease using Syrian airspace to target civilian populations
ii. Areas of Syria not under government control are no longer cut off from international aid and have regular access to humanitarian assistance, freedom of travel, and medical care
iii. The Syrian government release all political prisoners and allow access to detention facilities
iv. The Syrian government and its allies cease the deliberate targeting of medical facilities, schools, residential areas, and other civilian targets
v. The Syrian government take steps to fulfill its obligations under the Chemical Weapons Convention and the Treaty on the Nonproliferation of Nuclear Weapons, and make “tangible progress” toward becoming a signatory to the Convention Prohibiting Biological and Toxin Weapons
vi. The Syrian government permit the safe, voluntary, and dignified return of Syrians displaced by the conflict
vii. The Syrian government takes “verifiable steps” to establish meaningful accountability for perpetrators of war crimes in Syria and justice for victims of war crimes committed by the Assad government.

What is clear is that “normalization doses” are clashing with the “Ceasar Act virus,” which first demands a strategic change in Syria and a vote in Congress. This explains the cautious steps the Biden administration is taking towards Assad and his government, as well as the public criticism leveled by US officials and legislators against the actions taken by Amman towards Damascus.



10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
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10 Years after Europe's Migration Crisis, the Fallout Reverberates in Greece and Beyond

File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)
File photo: Migrants of African origin trying to flee to Europe are crammed on board of a small boat, as Tunisian coast guards prepare to transfer them onto their vessel, at sea between Tunisia and Italy, on August 10, 2023. (Photo by FETHI BELAID / AFP)

Fleeing Iran with her husband and toddler, Amena Namjoyan reached a rocky beach of this eastern Greek island along with hundreds of thousands of others. For months, their arrival overwhelmed Lesbos. Boats fell apart, fishermen dove to save people from drowning, and local grandmothers bottle-fed newly arrived babies.

Namjoyan spent months in an overcrowded camp. She learned Greek. She struggled with illness and depression as her marriage collapsed. She tried to make a fresh start in Germany but eventually returned to Lesbos, the island that first embraced her. Today, she works at a restaurant, preparing Iranian dishes that locals devour, even if they struggle to pronounce the names. Her second child tells her, “‘I’m Greek.’”

“Greece is close to my culture, and I feel good here,” Namjoyan said. “I am proud of myself.”

In 2015, more than 1 million migrants and refugees arrived in Europe — the majority by sea, landing in Lesbos, where the north shore is just 10 kilometers (6 miles) from Türkiye. The influx of men, women and children fleeing war and poverty sparked a humanitarian crisis that shook the European Union to its core. A decade later, the fallout still reverberates on the island and beyond.

For many, Greece was a place of transit. They continued on to northern and western Europe. Many who applied for asylum were granted international protection; thousands became European citizens. Countless more were rejected, languishing for years in migrant camps or living in the streets. Some returned to their home countries. Others were kicked out of the European Union.

For Namjoyan, Lesbos is a welcoming place — many islanders share a refugee ancestry, and it helps that she speaks their language. But migration policy in Greece, like much of Europe, has shifted toward deterrence in the decade since the crisis. Far fewer people are arriving illegally. Officials and politicians have maintained that strong borders are needed. Critics say enforcement has gone too far and violates fundamental EU rights and values.

“Migration is now at the top of the political agenda, which it didn’t use to be before 2015,” said Camille Le Coz Director of the Migration Policy Institute Europe, noting changing EU alliances. “We are seeing a shift toward the right of the political spectrum.”

A humanitarian crisis turned into a political one

In 2015, boat after boat crowded with refugees crashed onto the doorstep of Elpiniki Laoumi, who runs a fish tavern across from a Lesbos beach. She fed them, gave them water, made meals for aid organizations.

“You would look at them and think of them as your own children," said Laoumi, whose tavern walls today are decorated with thank-you notes.

From 2015 to 2016, the peak of the migration crisis, more than 1 million people entered Europe through Greece alone. The immediate humanitarian crisis — to feed, shelter and care for so many people at once — grew into a long-term political one.

Greece was reeling from a crippling economic crisis. The influx added to anger against established political parties, fueling the rise of once-fringe populist forces.

EU nations fought over sharing responsibility for asylum seekers. The bloc’s unity cracked as some member states flatly refused to take migrants. Anti-migration voices calling for closed borders became louder.

Today, illegal migration is down across Europe While illegal migration to Greece has fluctuated, numbers are nowhere near 2015-16 figures, according to the International Organization for Migration. Smugglers adapted to heightened surveillance, shifting to more dangerous routes.

Overall, irregular EU border crossings decreased by nearly 40% last year and continue to fall, according to EU border and coast guard agency Frontex.

That hasn’t stopped politicians from focusing on — and sometimes fearmongering over — migration. This month, the Dutch government collapsed after a populist far-right lawmaker withdrew his party’s ministers over migration policy.

In Greece, the new far-right migration minister has threatened rejected asylum seekers with jail time.

A few miles from where Namjoyan now lives, in a forest of pine and olive trees, is a new EU-funded migrant center. It's one of the largest in Greece and can house up to 5,000 people.

Greek officials denied an Associated Press request to visit. Its opening is blocked, for now, by court challenges.

Some locals say the remote location seems deliberate — to keep migrants out of sight and out of mind.

“We don’t believe such massive facilities are needed here. And the location is the worst possible – deep inside a forest,” said Panagiotis Christofas, mayor of Lesbos’ capital, Mytilene. “We’re against it, and I believe that’s the prevailing sentiment in our community.”

A focus on border security

For most of Europe, migration efforts focus on border security and surveillance.

The European Commission this year greenlighted the creation of “return” hubs — a euphemism for deportation centers — for rejected asylum seekers. Italy has sent unwanted migrants to its centers in Albania, even as that faces legal challenges.

Governments have resumed building walls and boosting surveillance in ways unseen since the Cold War.

In 2015, Frontex was a small administrative office in Warsaw. Now, it's the EU's biggest agency, with 10,000 armed border guards, helicopters, drones and an annual budget of over 1 billion euros.

On other issues of migration — reception, asylum and integration, for example — EU nations are largely divided.

The legacy of Lesbos

Last year, EU nations approved a migration and asylum pact laying out common rules for the bloc's 27 countries on screening, asylum, detention and deportation of people trying to enter without authorization, among other things.

“The Lesbos crisis of 2015 was, in a way, the birth certificate of the European migration and asylum policy,” Margaritis Schinas, a former European Commission vice president and a chief pact architect, told AP.

He said that after years of fruitless negotiations, he's proud of the landmark compromise.

“We didn’t have a system,” Schinas said. “Europe’s gates had been crashed."

The deal, endorsed by the United Nations refugee agency, takes effect next year. Critics say it made concessions to hardliners. Human rights organizations say it will increase detention and erode the right to seek asylum.

Some organizations also criticize the “externalization” of EU border management — agreements with countries across the Mediterranean to aggressively patrol their coasts and hold migrants back in exchange for financial assistance.

The deals have expanded, from Türkiye to the Middle East and across Africa. Human rights groups say autocratic governments are pocketing billions and often subject the displaced to appalling conditions.

Lesbos still sees some migrants arrive Lesbos' 80,000 residents look back at the 2015 crisis with mixed feelings.

Fisherman Stratos Valamios saved some children. Others drowned just beyond his reach, their bodies still warm as he carried them to shore.

“What’s changed from back then to now, 10 years on? Nothing,” he said. “What I feel is anger — that such things can happen, that babies can drown.”

Those who died crossing to Lesbos are buried in two cemeteries, their graves marked as “unknown.”

Tiny shoes and empty juice boxes with faded Turkish labels can still be found on the northern coast. So can black doughnut-shaped inner tubes, given by smugglers as crude life preservers for children. At Moria, a refugee camp destroyed by fire in 2020, children’s drawings remain on gutted building walls.

Migrants still arrive, and sometimes die, on these shores. Lesbos began to adapt to a quieter, more measured flow of newcomers.

Efi Latsoudi, who runs a network helping migrants learn Greek and find jobs, hopes Lesbos’ tradition of helping outsiders in need will outlast national policies.

“The way things are developing, it’s not friendly for newcomers to integrate into Greek society,” Latsoudi said. "We need to do something. ... I believe there is hope.”