By Timour Azhari
QARDAHA, Syria, Dec 30 (Reuters) - He carried no weapons and helped keep government security forces alive, but Khairallah Dib still needed a promise of amnesty to come out of hiding.
He had been lying low for weeks after Alawite fighters staged a March insurrection against Syria’s new Islamist-led rulers. The uprising by loyalists of ousted President Bashar al-Assad killed more than 200 Syrian security forces and triggered days of vengeance.
The killings by government-affiliated forces
left nearly 1,500 Alawites dead and led tens of thousands to flee out of fear for their lives. It broke the fragile relationship between Alawites, the sect from which Assad hailed, and the new government.
Syria’s new rulers have since tried to undo the damage by providing amnesty to people like Dib and others swept into the March violence, and offering limited economic aid to the wider community.
Reuters accompanied people working with the government committee created to oversee that process in the coastal provinces of Latakia and Tartous, speaking to dozens of Alawites who have received its support and 15 Alawite former security officials now working with Syria’s government. The body is formally known as the Supreme Committee for the Preservation of Civil Peace.
Both the committee and its beneficiaries described a fledgling and controversial attempt to win the loyalty of Syria’s Alawites, many of whom also suffered poverty under Assad despite privileged access to state jobs given their shared sect. Securing their allegiance could help the new government exert control over the region and show progress on President Ahmed al-Sharaa’s promise to govern for all Syrians.
Run by ex-militant leaders on opposing sides during Syria’s brutal 14-year war, the initiative offers financial help, jobs and medical services to hundreds of Alawites, including dozens of men who received amnesties in exchange for promising not to fight again or to help demobilize other fighters.
In response to questions for this story, civil peace committee member Hassan Soufan told Reuters the government was calibrating its efforts for Alawites with the vast needs of the wider Syrian population, including Sunnis harmed by Assad’s government.
“There is a balance we must strike” to ensure everyone feels treated fairly, he said in an interview.
Soufan acknowledged some public anger that new authorities were cooperating with members of the fallen dictator’s security establishment. But he said Syria’s leadership took a longer view.
“The Syrian people should go forward. That doesn’t mean accepting the big crimes that took place. Those who committed serious crimes should be held accountable. But the vast majority of Syrians are innocent,” he said.
Dib has been one beneficiary of that forgiving approach.
He denied taking part in any violence during the March insurrection. He said his only role was communication and that he additionally helped keep scores of security forces taken hostage by insurgents in Qardaha alive and mediated their return. His account was confirmed by a government official familiar with his settlement.
“I decided to do something for the future,” Dib said from the cafe he set up in Assad’s hometown of Qardaha with money from the initiative.
A Reuters visit arranged by the committee found the cafe frequented by students, the unemployed and local elders.
The cafe helped Dib scrape together enough money to get engaged, which he had never been able to afford under Assad. He’s planning for kids.
“I want girls though. They're sweeter and cuter,” he said. “The boys always want to carry guns.”
THE UNLIKELY PEACEMAKERS
Those steering the committee have their own history of warfare.
Soufan, a Sunni from Latakia, is a former rebel commander.
Another is Khaled al-Ahmad, who helped Assad recapture territory during the war through surrender deals, then fell out with the dictator and eventually switched sides to back Sharaa, his childhood friend.
Ahmad’s man on the ground is Fadi Saqr, an Alawite who commanded an infamous pro-Assad militia known as the National Defense Forces, which was accused by rights groups of committing massacres, looting and extortion. Saqr is blacklisted by the U.S. and European Union for his role in wartime massacres.
Saqr denied any role in massacres in comments to Reuters but declined to answer further questions. Soufan has acknowledged Syria’s government is working with Saqr, saying he helped prevent bloodshed when Assad fell.
Saqr’s involvement has led to criticism of the initiative as a skin-deep effort by the new government to cement its rule while allowing notorious regime figures to walk free.
“Who are you to forgive those who killed our people in the ugliest ways? And even more, you elevate them to become symbols of civil peace,” said Osama Othman, who more than a decade ago helped smuggle out thousands of pictures of dead detainees in Assad’s prisons, known as the “Caesar files.”
The government says amnesty candidates are vetted to ensure no one who committed serious crimes during the civil war is pardoned. But the process itself is opaque.
The Syrian Network for Human Rights says the committee’s power to grant amnesties and free detainees undermines transparency, accountability and an independent judiciary.
“Fadi Saqr’s efforts have done a lot to maintain literal peace but not much to ease fears and build trust in communities compared to other grassroots initiatives working with local officials,” said Gregory Waters, a senior fellow at the Atlantic Council’s Syria Program.
The work of the committee is also opposed by many in the Alawite community, including hardliners who see cooperation with Syria’s Islamist-led authorities as tantamount to treason. Individuals linked to the committee told Reuters they know they could be targeted by Alawite militants. An Alawite candidate in state-organized parliamentary elections was shot dead in September.
While Reuters was reporting on the committee’s work in Dalieh, a remote and picturesque mountain village where the March insurrection began, an anti-government Alawite Facebook page alleged Saqr had brought the reporters there as part of “disgusting plans.” The journalists were followed out of the town by a car with tinted windows, which was ultimately warned off by a government security patrol.
Saqr was not present during the reporting trip, but members of his civil peace team were nearby during interviews with residents. Reuters later followed up with those residents by phone.
‘YOU WERE DECEIVED’
Some Alawites initially saw Assad's ouster last year as a potential opening for their broadly destitute community. Tens of thousands of former soldiers signed temporary settlements with the new government and relinquished their weapons.
But mass layoffs and killings of Alawites in the ensuing months left them feeling increasingly sidelined and fearful. Then, the March killings hardened distrust of Sharaa, who led Al Qaeda’s Syrian branch before disavowing the organization.
In a goodwill gesture, the committee has granted amnesty to at least 50 Alawite men linked to the March violence, Tartous governor Ahmed al-Shami told Reuters.
“We told them: ‘you were deceived ... were hasty and implicated yourself, we will be merciful with you and give you a second chance,’” Shami said.
The committee has also freed hundreds of Assad-era soldiers detained after his ouster and arranged more than 90 family visits to some of the thousands of others still imprisoned, a committee official said.
A mother of three former soldiers who are in prison said she was able to visit one of them in September, with the small but still unaffordable cost of travel covered by the committee.
The mother, who asked not to be named, said it was painful to observe her son through a pane of glass and she was only allowed to provide him with underwear.
“They haven't seen the new Syria yet,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “They don’t know anything. They just know that they are in prison.”
Forgiven fighters provide information on people who might still be plotting attacks and help authorities find hidden caches of light arms and ammunition, according to Shami and a statement by the security chiefs of Latakia and Tartous. They also convince others not to fight.
After striking a settlement in April, one of Saqr’s former militiamen was given a job in carpentry. While he said he still wanted revenge for the Alawite blood spilled, the fighter, who asked not to be named for fear of reprisal, said no one wanted to fight anymore.
“People are tired. They just want security and to feed their kids,” he told Reuters.
SYMBOLIC EFFORT
Alawite residents on the coast said the efforts are too small to address vast damage from the March violence as well as entrenched poverty and persistent insecurity in the coastal areas. Soufan acknowledged the financial constraints.
“We are doing something symbolic that clears the air and gets us moving forward,” he told Reuters.
More than nine months after the violence, the committee says it has refurbished less than 10% of roughly 1,000 damaged homes.
Osama Twayyer, a 32-year-old Alawite in the Jableh countryside, said his extended family had 13 houses torched and livestock stolen in March. The committee has been unable to locate two of his relatives who have been missing since then, he said.
The committee began basic repairs in some of his relatives’ homes. But after Reuters visited in September, Twayyer said repairs ground to a halt.
He said fears of renewed violence were keeping people away from his garage, slashing his income.
“After 6 p.m., my own brother could knock on the door and I wouldn’t open it,” Twayyer said.
Alawite rallies in recent days and last month showed the challenges the committee faces.
On December 28, thousands of Alawites chanted for decentralized rule and the release of detainees. Their demonstration barely lasted an hour before they were confronted by a pro-government protest. Gunfire from security forces broke up that gathering and one last month with similar demands.
Authorities have launched public trials over the March violence. Their results remain a litmus test for accountability in the new Syria.
Wael Hasan, a 59-year-old farmer whose charred home the committee has promised to repair, told Reuters there was a long way to go before Syria’s communities could live together without fear.
“Deep inside, we’re ready for it. But right now it feels far away because justice and law must come first,” he said.
(Reporting by Timour Azhari. Photos by Yamam Al Shaar. Photo editing by Marie Semerdjian. Edited by Maya Gebeilly, Peter Hirschberg and Lori Hinnant.)
