The Financial Times
By Andrew England in Damascus
September 13 2008
Aref Dalila was not alone in believing that change may have been on the horizon in Syria, a nation where political freedoms are virtually nonexistent and its human rights record notorious.
At least the economics professor and other intellectuals and activists hoped it would as they gathered for lively debates and lectures, daring to discuss the need for political and social reforms.
But that was seven years ago and today, Mr Dalila, 65, sits in his simple flat contemplating his first month of freedom. He was released on August 7 after spending six of his seven years of detention in solitary confinement and suffering from poor health.
In 2001 he was among activists buoyed by a sense of optimism as Bashar al-Assad, the young, new president was feeling his way into office. Such was mood that the period was dubbed the Damascus spring.
But a bleak reality check hit in September of that year as Mr Dalila and nine others were rounded up in a government crackdown.
“It’s difficult to stay seven years without any reason, only because you do your duty, nothing more,” he says. “Where is the law, where is the constitution?”
His crime was to argue for reforms and speak out against corruption from the top down – an issue he could claim to be an authority on as one of the country’s leading economists who had served as a professor at universities in Aleppo and Damascus. Others note that he stood out as as a rare critical voice from the Alawite sect, the minority to which the president belongs and which has dominated power since the late Hafiz al-Assad took power in 1970.
And while the Syrian government has enjoyed a remarkable recent turnround on the diplomatic front, human rights activists claim little has changed in their arena since Mr Dalila was picked up at his flat by plain clothes security agents. A number of prominent activists arrested with Mr Dalila and released before him find themselves back behind bars, along with dozens of others detained for political reasons.
Few activists expect that situation to improve in spite of thawing international relations.
In July, Mr Assad was feted in Paris by Nicolas Sarkozy, his French counterpart, and last week he enjoyed a public relations coup as Damascus hosted a summit that included Mr Sarkozy and the leaders of Turkey and Qatar. The improved relations are the result of Syria’s support for an agreement between rival Lebanese factions that has for now ended the crisis in Lebanon, and the revelation that Damascus was holding indirect talks with Israel.
Yet activists point to other Middle East states such as Egypt, Jordan and Saudi Arabia, which have poor human rights records but enjoy strong ties with the west – even adding Libya to the list after Condoleezza Rice’s visit to the north African state last week – to argue that international relations are one thing, internal reform another.
The best they hope for is some easing of the internal pressure as the regime feels less threatened externally, says an activist who – like hundreds of others – is banned from travelling outside the country.
“In 2006 it became clear to Bashar Assad that human rights was not important to these [western] countries, he has more important points [for the west] ... the situation in Lebanon, the situation in Iraq,” says Ammar Qurabi, president of the National Organisation for Human Rights in Syria. “I’m not optimistic because up till now it’s been very good for the regime without any price.”
Like other civil society groups, his organisation is banned, and in spite of government discussions about a law allowing new political parties, no legislation has been implemented and political activity is severely restricted.
When Mr Sarkozy was asked about human rights during his Damascus visit, he said two Syrians had been released from detention. But activists smile wryly – they can cite Mr Dalila’s release, but none others. In fact, they say, two leaders of the Kurdish minority were arrested days before the French leader’s visit. “It was just stupid,” says an activist. “If you do not know how many prisoners are released, how can you help?”
By Andrew England in Damascus
September 13 2008
Aref Dalila was not alone in believing that change may have been on the horizon in Syria, a nation where political freedoms are virtually nonexistent and its human rights record notorious.
At least the economics professor and other intellectuals and activists hoped it would as they gathered for lively debates and lectures, daring to discuss the need for political and social reforms.
But that was seven years ago and today, Mr Dalila, 65, sits in his simple flat contemplating his first month of freedom. He was released on August 7 after spending six of his seven years of detention in solitary confinement and suffering from poor health.
In 2001 he was among activists buoyed by a sense of optimism as Bashar al-Assad, the young, new president was feeling his way into office. Such was mood that the period was dubbed the Damascus spring.
But a bleak reality check hit in September of that year as Mr Dalila and nine others were rounded up in a government crackdown.
“It’s difficult to stay seven years without any reason, only because you do your duty, nothing more,” he says. “Where is the law, where is the constitution?”
His crime was to argue for reforms and speak out against corruption from the top down – an issue he could claim to be an authority on as one of the country’s leading economists who had served as a professor at universities in Aleppo and Damascus. Others note that he stood out as as a rare critical voice from the Alawite sect, the minority to which the president belongs and which has dominated power since the late Hafiz al-Assad took power in 1970.
And while the Syrian government has enjoyed a remarkable recent turnround on the diplomatic front, human rights activists claim little has changed in their arena since Mr Dalila was picked up at his flat by plain clothes security agents. A number of prominent activists arrested with Mr Dalila and released before him find themselves back behind bars, along with dozens of others detained for political reasons.
Few activists expect that situation to improve in spite of thawing international relations.
In July, Mr Assad was feted in Paris by Nicolas Sarkozy, his French counterpart, and last week he enjoyed a public relations coup as Damascus hosted a summit that included Mr Sarkozy and the leaders of Turkey and Qatar. The improved relations are the result of Syria’s support for an agreement between rival Lebanese factions that has for now ended the crisis in Lebanon, and the revelation that Damascus was holding indirect talks with Israel.
Yet activists point to other Middle East states such as Egypt, Jordan and Saudi Arabia, which have poor human rights records but enjoy strong ties with the west – even adding Libya to the list after Condoleezza Rice’s visit to the north African state last week – to argue that international relations are one thing, internal reform another.
The best they hope for is some easing of the internal pressure as the regime feels less threatened externally, says an activist who – like hundreds of others – is banned from travelling outside the country.
“In 2006 it became clear to Bashar Assad that human rights was not important to these [western] countries, he has more important points [for the west] ... the situation in Lebanon, the situation in Iraq,” says Ammar Qurabi, president of the National Organisation for Human Rights in Syria. “I’m not optimistic because up till now it’s been very good for the regime without any price.”
Like other civil society groups, his organisation is banned, and in spite of government discussions about a law allowing new political parties, no legislation has been implemented and political activity is severely restricted.
When Mr Sarkozy was asked about human rights during his Damascus visit, he said two Syrians had been released from detention. But activists smile wryly – they can cite Mr Dalila’s release, but none others. In fact, they say, two leaders of the Kurdish minority were arrested days before the French leader’s visit. “It was just stupid,” says an activist. “If you do not know how many prisoners are released, how can you help?”
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