Question: What is the relationship like between Syria and Russia? (Via Quora)

Salman Shaikh, director of the Brookings Doha Center and fellow at the Saban Center for Middle East Policy

The number one reason underlying the Russian position is their attitude towards a more Islamist government in Syria. They are grappling about how their own Muslim communities, particularly in the south of Russia – which they call an island of Islamism – connect with rest of the Islamic continent.

The fundamental ties that bind Russia and Syria are security ties, particularly with regards to the military, which has a long-standing relationship. There are also commercial, personal and religious ties. The relationship between the Russian Orthodox Church and the Orthodox patriarchy in Syria is strong, and they share concerns about their future.

Russia probably has “red lines” with Islamic extremists and the diplomatic red line, which is no regime change by force. Regarding chemical weapons, I think the U.S. and Russia and others, particularly Israel, see eye to eye on this.

Having regime change again forced upon a key Middle East ally by the West and regional forces supporting the West are not going to happen again like Libya, or a rerun of Iraq. Russia is providing weapons to the regime … they would say it is legitimate activity based on fulfilling contracts. But they know that is not helping the militarization of the conflict. Russia is providing advanced anti-aircraft missiles and other hardware, and training, technical know-how and assistance. That is direct intervention.

Russia is not convinced that there is a better solution other than a continuation of the conflict. Until there’s a better deal they’re going to be realists. But in the Libyan case Russia turned around. It all depends on the balance of forces on the ground, and where the regime is going – whether the regime goes down wholesale, or whether elements of the regime can be engaged in a change or transition. If Russia goes down the path of supporting the regime to the bitter end, they will lose a lot, and so will the international community. Stabilizing Syria will require all hands on deck, and Russia would be a useful tool in that regard.

The Russians can’t affect change all by themselves, but they can certainly set the mood if they decide to take a tougher line. But they are not in a rush, because that would test their own influence to affect change.

Wayne White, former senior U.S. State Department intelligence official and expert at the Washington-based Middle East Institute:

The Assad regime in Syria is the last surviving government that could be characterized as a Russian “ally.” Past support for Syria militarily remained – at least until the beginning of the uprising against Assad and co. – a way of indirectly currying favor with a number of Arab and other Muslim governments in the region still opposed to peace with Israel, or what has transpired between Israel and the Palestinians since Bibi Netanyahu’s first term as Israeli prime minister in the late 1990s. In exchange, Moscow retained a major naval base in Syria (the only one it has in the Mediterranean) and considerable political and intelligence cooperation with the Assad regime.

Because of Syria’s less than prosperous economic state, the Russians have been generous concerning their arms sales to Syria, and doubtless stand to lose quite a bit of money still owed them should this regime fall (since any successor government is likely to ignore such obligations following Moscow’s support for the Damascus regime during its 2011-2013 bloodbath).

Finally, with relations typically strained between the Kremlin and the White House since the beginning of this century, Russia’s two top leaders may well view supporting Bashar al-Assad as yet another way of expressing displeasure with much of the criticism they have received from Washington predating the Syrian uprising, and demonstrating that their Middle East policy is not subject to American approval.

In tangible terms – arms, ammunition etc. – it is difficult to know just how important Russia is, as opposed to Iran, for example. In such situations, the Russians characteristically share whatever intelligence they have concerning the opposition as well as the intentions of those governments supporting the rebels, and their overall capabilities in that area greatly exceed those of the Syrian regime. They also probably have assisted the regime in its own collection of intelligence on the rebels.

The most important contribution to the ability of the Assad regime to survive, and possibly even prevail, is Russia’s blockage of more forceful UN Security Council resolutions that might have emboldened the US, the UK and France in particular to do far more for the opposition. So even if tangible Russian support in terms of munitions is not all that critical in enabling the Syrian regime to survive, it certainly has complicated the ability of the West to squeeze Syria much harder.

The recent US–Russian agreement to hold a conference in which the regime might engage the opposition is fairly consistent with Moscow’s long-standing desire for a negotiated solution to the crisis with the regime at the conference table. To the extent any policy shift could be involved, it would appear that shift might have occurred in Washington … to Russia’s considerable satisfaction

Domaine de Bargylus is the first commercial vineyard in Syria, where the Saadés have obstinately carried on creating strikingly exquisite wines despite two years of ongoing civil war. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, cut off from everything, and are undertaking a considerably challenging project under extremely difficult conditions,” says Sandro Saadé, speaking from Beirut. “But we are strongly attached to the land where we’ve planted these vines. Bargylus, after all, is also the land of our origins.”

That Bargylus is able to persevere today is a testament to their dedication. Much of the country abstains from alcohol for religious reasons. Even the majority of the brothers’ vineyard staff are practicing Muslims who won’t even drink what they produce. “When we launched Bargylus,” Sandro said, “it was the first time anyone had created a modern vineyard in Syria with strict standards and an aspiration for excellence. I think our employees could sense something different was being created here, and wanted to be part of that adventure.”

With Greek Orthodox Christian ancestors who hailed from the ancient Syrian port city of Laodicea (today Lattakia), the Lebanese–Syrian Saadé family has been part of the region’s mercantile history for centuries. For years they owned businesses and property in Syria, but lost everything during a wave of nationalizations in the early 1960s during the country’s political union with Egypt.

Which is why the ambitious project they began in 2004 – to revive a Syrian vineyard dating back to Greco–Roman times on the outskirts of Lattakia – was, Sandro said, “greatly symbolic … about returning to the land of our ancestors long after having been forced to leave.”

Today, as the bloody civil war begins to spill into Latakia, Karim and Sandro are drawing on all their savvy and business acumen to ensure they are not forced out of the country again. The bulk of their business activity takes place in Beirut, and in peaceful times, Domaine de Bargylus is only a few hours’ drive over the border.

But today, amid the Syrian civil war and recurring conflicts in northern Lebanon, Karim and Sandro have found themselves barred from accessing the site, and faced with the daunting logistical challenge of running the vineyard from a distance, as war rages around notoriously fragile vines.

Basic supplies may take weeks to arrive (a simple shipment of cardboard boxes was recently held up at the border for over a month). The vineyard has had to become largely autonomous, with its own power and water supply, and stocks of bottles for at least two vintages’ worth of wine.

During the crucial harvest period, when grape ripeness must be evaluated daily, Karim and Sandro have begun having refrigerated containers of grape samples sent by taxi to Beirut so they are able to choose the optimum moment for picking.

“In every way it’s a very difficult undertaking,” says Sandro. “And all of these logistical and administrative problems come on top of the real risk on the ground today in Syria.” The team of 15 permanent employees and 60 seasonal workers at Bargylus are stationed in Latakia, an Alawite stronghold, and have thus far been sheltered from the kind of violence experienced in Aleppo and elsewhere in the country.

And Karim and Sandro are doing their best to spare their workers some of the economic consequences of civil war. Over the last two years they have raised wages to compensate for the plummeting Syrian pound, which has lost more than 60 percent of its value against the US dollar since the start of the war.

The Saadés aim to raise the bar for the Syrian manufacturing sector. But “our greater desire is to bring back to life the culture of wine in the region,” Karim said. “This is what makes this project exciting – the idea of resurrecting a culture that disappeared in the seventh century with the Arab invasions.”

The two-hectare site chosen for Bargylus is at the heart of the region that gave birth to viticulture. Wine produced there left the ports of Ougarit and Laodicea to be exported to Egypt, Greece and Rome. So vast was once the production that most of the wine consumed in Alexandria was grown on Mount Bargylus—a history all but erased today but for a few ancient fermentation tanks dug out of the limestone rock on Jebel al-Ansariyé left by the Romans.

Such a rich history convinced the Saadés that Syria was capable of making great wine. Their first vintage debuted in 2006. “We wanted to make a vin de terroir—a wine that reflects the place it is grown,” said Karim. They predominantly produce Syrah (red) and Chardonnay (white). “Often we have people blind taste Bargylus,” Sandro said, a practice that stumps even the most hardened oenophiles. “Being a Mediterranean wine, often one expects it to be sun-baked. When they don’t find this character, people are a bit lost, they don’t know where they are on the planet.”

As they travel between the Middle East and Europe to introduce the wines of Bargylus (and its sister vineyard, Château Marsyas, in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley), the Saadés are putting forward a different face of a country now associated primarily with strife.

Response has been enthusiastic. By the end of 2013, both vineyards will have reached a global audience, imported for the first time in Malta, the UAE, Turkey, the Maldives, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland and Thailand. The Saadés are even hoping now that other investors may launch their own vineyards in the region, and that “one day there will be a true wine industry, and we’ll be able to have wine tours in Syria.”

One can only wonder what they’d be capable of in a time of peace. “Bargylus 2012 is probably our greatest vintage to date,” Sandro said. “We are moved to see that despite all these difficulties, we are still able to produce something rather exceptional.”

As Washington and its allies continue to debate the scope of a possible intervention in Syria, Shiite and Sunni extremists have entered into battle. Through that sectarian lens, the Sunni–Shiite rivalry has escalated to resemble the apocalyptic prophesies that have been relayed for centuries on the fringes of Islam.

Al-Qaida, through its affiliate Jabhat al-Nusra, has been active for over a year, carrying out the suicide bombings that have become the calling card of Sunni terrorists. Its fight against the West has been raging for decades and its enmity to Shiites and non-Salafi Sunnis has been just as heated, as demonstrated during the U.S. occupation of Iraq.

But in recent weeks it has been Hezbollah, the Iranian-backed Shiite militant group in Lebanon (designated by the U.S. as a terrorist organization), which has been making its high-profile mark. Military analysts attribute the Assad regime’s surge in Homs and areas of Damascus to the increased presence of Hezbollah fighters in Syria.

The confirmation from Hassan Nasrallah, the head of Hezbollah, that the group is fighting in Syria and plans to use Homs as launching point to liberate the Golan Heights from Israeli control has removed any doubts of Hezbollah’s, and Iran’s, intention to physically fight opponents of Bashar al-Assad’s regime.

In a recent speech, Nasrallah threatened rebels and said the current rulers of Damascus will never be toppled, which elicited positive reactions from Assad’s supporters (below). Omar Idlibi, a member of the opposition umbrella group the National Coalition, posted that Nasrallah’s sharp rhetoric was a direct challenge to the so-called “Friends of Syria,” and that Hezbollah sees these “allies of the revolution” as dishonest and cowardly.

Another Iranian proxy, Hezbollah in Iraq, is also sending fighters to Syria under the pretense of defending a shrine in Damascus that’s revered by most Muslims and has been protected for more than 1,000 years by Sunni empires. The other reason for fighting in Syria, according to a YouTube clip of the leader of Iraq’s Hezbollah, is to crush the apostate Free Syrian Army, which is a precursor to a prophesied Sunni army led by the mythical Sufyani who will slaughter the Shiites and then battle against the Mahdi, the Shiites’ awaited messiah.

The Salafis in Lebanon, who practice a conservative brand of Sunni Islam, have also become increasingly agitated about the dominance of Hezbollah in Lebanon and its presence in Syria, and one of the top Salafi clerics from Sidon, Ahmed Al Assir, has declared jihad in Qusayr, a border town between Homs and Lebanon.

Lebanese Salafi Imam Ahmed Al Assir in Al Qusayr, Homs.

Assir matched his rhetoric with action. As Nasrallah explained that Hezbollah is now defending Shiites in Syria, delivering a speech from an undisclosed location (he has been in hiding since the 2006 war with Israel), Assir popped into social media feeds, posing with a rifle in the trenches of Qusayr (left). Assir has since been injured in Syria, according to some reports, and returned to Lebanon for treatment.

Fighting inevitably leads to death and funerals, and Middle East researcher Phillip Smith has been mining the pictures and videos of funerals to establish an archive of Hezbollah’s casualties in Syria. Using a Twitter hashtag to compile the data, #HizballahCavalcade is fast becoming a go- to source for Shiite casualties.

For our video this week, we will keep with the regional character of the Syrian conflict. More than a half million Palestinians have lived in Syria for decades, and like all Syrians, they are made up of loyalists and opponents of the Assad regime. Their most prominent camp, in a neighborhood of Damascus called Yarmouk, has been the scene of clashes between rebels and Syrian soldiers, and has been targeted in airstrikes in recent months.

In the video below, viewed more than 19,000 times, a Palestinian filmmaker tells the story of one of those airstrikes, and the broader context of Palestinian life in diaspora.

Noam Moses Malkeh, a Catholic member of Ghoraba Al Sham / Mohammed Sergie for Syria Deeply

Noam Moses Malkeh is an administrator at the gate that is controlled by the Islamist group Ghuraba al-Sham. A Ras al-Ayn native, Malkeh said he was one of seven people to first protest against Bashar al-Assad’s regime on April 8, 2011. When the battle came to his town, Malkeh, along with his brother Ziad, decided they had to play a role.

“Christians and Muslims share the same God and the same prophets, and we will all be judged by God in the end. Syrians are facing a common enemy today, and though we have different religions, we should all face the same dangers together,” he said.

Malkeh is definitely an outlier among Syrian Christians, who have largely remained neutral and shunned the opposition movement against the Assad regime.

“I’ve had my differences with the church and haven’t attended mass for over a decade,” he said. “The clergy neglected the needs of their flock before the revolution, and as we can see from their position today of either being silent or siding with the regime, it’s clear the church’s leadership doesn’t protect the interest of Christians nor promote the message of Jesus.”

Straying from the church hasn’t turned Malkeh away from his religion. He doesn’t have a problem with the Roman Catholic Church – just the Syrian clergy. “The regime corrupted my church, just as it corrupted the mosque,” he said.

Manning the border control desk in Ras al-Ayn is the first steady work that Malkeh has ever had. The 48-year-old is disabled, and though he has trained as an electrician at a vocational school, he has only been able to find occasional employment in the past, at times selling vegetables on the street.

“I’ve been a burden on my friends and brothers, and I never received government assistance for my disability,” he said.

His left leg limits his ability to fight, but he helps with logistics. His work on the border consists of documenting all who enter the country and cross-checking them with the Turkish side. Ziad Malkeh, his brother, has joined battles, but most of Ziad’s time these days is spent liaising with the various minorities in the area.

Ras al-Ayn, a city of over 50,000, has a Kurdish majority and significant ethnic minorities of Arabs, Kurds, Armenians, Circassians, Assyrians and Turkmen, along with Christian, Sunni and Yezidi religious groups. Straddling the Turkish border at the town of Ceylanpinar, its diversity is highlighted by its three names: Ras al-Ayn (Arabic), Serekaniye (Kurdish) and Reish ‘Eino (Assyrian).

The town was the scene of deadly clashes between Islamist rebels and Kurdish groups this year, but a truce has held since February and civilian life has since returned.

Malkeh is optimistic that peace will continue. “If there was deep sectarian hatred here, there would be nobody left,” he said. But he admits that tensions between Kurds and Islamists remain, and said the solution is for all sides is to view themselves as Syrians first.

“This doesn’t mean we should forget our culture and religion, but that we should interact as citizens with equal rights, rather than warring sides who want to subjugate the other. If we can do that, I think the peace in Ras al-Ayn will hold.”

Last autumn and winter was spent worrying about decreasing temperatures, the winterization of the refugee camps, and the need to forage for firewood on the streets of Aleppo. Now, there’s a new fear: the sun. With limited international donations, the UN is struggling to provide basic goods and services to the nearly 1.5 million registered refugees scattered across the Levant and the greater region. It has identified nearly 7 million Syrians in need inside the country, whose government continually restricts access for humanitarian agencies. These numbers have yet to peak. The figures were collected after a time of not only escalating violence, but moderate weather conditions.  What will happen if the Syrian conflict continues along this trajectory of stalemate, intensifying air strikes, and possible chemical weapon attacks in the context of a brutally hot Middle Eastern summer?

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International sanctions have severely limited Syria’s access to electricity over the past year. Since late 2011, the government has implemented systematic electricity cuts to conserve (some argue to hoard) the limited amount of electricity available in the country. These cuts have left families in the dark, with no ability to cook or cool their homes for hours on end. As temperatures start to rise and Syrians struggle to power their fans, heat strokes will undoubtedly spike throughout the country. Larger families living in tight dwellings or bombarded areas inside Syria are particularly at risk due to their limited mobility and access to basic necessities – namely, water.

Water has long been likened to gold in the Middle East due to its scarcity. In Syria, power outages limit access to water, especially in bombarded cities like Aleppo. Moreover, in host countries like Jordan, a country recognized by Oxfam as “one of the most water-stressed in the world,” the addition of nearly 450,000 refugees is straining local communities.

In the border town of Mafraq, locals have suffered through weeks with no water due to the stress of the arrival of thousands of Syrians, and water costs have soared due to its scarcity. As the summer sun falls on Jordan, this pressure will not only amount to spikes of fatal dehydration, but it may also prompt hostility from suffering locals. These conditions will only get worse as violence continues to force more Syrians to flood already crowded refugee camps. This lack of water compounds another critical problem for Syrians: sanitation and disease. Due to the limited waste management capabilities, liberated areas, battlefield cities and refugee camps have become breeding grounds for diseases. In the Dormuz refugee camp in Iraq, a representative of Refugee International reported witnessing a child splashing around in a pool of compiled sewage. After speaking with Syrian refugees in the camp, he explained that their greatest fear is that “summer will bring diseases on a massive scale.”

Such fears are absolutely warranted, and the World Health Organization (WHO) and the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) officials are already preparing for potential outbreaks of cholera, typhoid and malaria once these pools of trash are exposed to extreme heat. Moreover, as water resources drain, the ability to keep these camps and living spaces sanitary will become even more difficult, allowing these diseases to spread not only throughout the camps but also to host communities. In Syria, the threat of communicable diseases is especially precarious due to severe medical supply shortages throughout the country. The WHO says that about 90 percent of the available medication in Syria was domestically produced before the revolution, and that most of the production took place in factories that have been destroyed by bombing campaigns and constant heavy fighting.

Merchants have stopped traveling dangerous roads to distribute medicine across the country for fear of death, prices for the little remaining medication have soared, and both international sanctions and restricted access for agencies like the Red Crescent and UN agencies have made the distribution of medicine sourced from abroad incredibly difficult. According to the Oxford Journal of Public Health, these problems are only amplified as extreme summer temperatures “undermine the vaccines’ cold chain supplies contributing to interruptions in the vaccination program.” The journal goes on to explain that long-term effects of these shortages could include a “loss of gains made in infection prevention and control in diseases … and a rise in morbidity and mortality among children.”

As Syrians are forced out of their homes and all movement in the country is restricted, access to electricity, water and medical supplies is heavily limited. As temperatures rise in the coming months, these shortages are likely to worsen and spur diseases that will threaten both Syrians and the citizens of their host countries.

Opposition politics was always a dangerous business in pre-conflict Syria. Now, as vast areas of the country have fallen out of the government’s control, opposition activists and politicians face risks everywhere, from Aleppo to far-flung Kurdish regions.

Islamists in rebel-controlled Aleppo, through their Sharia courts, have detained dozens of activists, conservative and liberal, for criticizing powerful groups. And in Kurdish areas, usually depicted as being more harmonious than Arab districts, the PYD’s leaders have also begun to lock up detractors.

For 52 days, Hamam was held with his son at the Asayish headquarters in Ayn al-Arab (the city is called Kobani in Kurdish) and was released in early April without being formally charged with a crime. His son remained in jail.

Aladine Hamam, political prisoner in Kobani / Mohammed Sergie

Hamam, 54, said he helped his son and friends in Kobani set up a battalion that would fight under the Kurdish Military Council’s banner, which is aligned with the Free Syrian Army. For many Kurds in the PYD (an affiliate of the Turkey-based Kurdistan Workers’ Party, or PKK), joining the Arab rebels – without extracting a pledge from Assad’s opponents on the status of the ethnic group in a future Syria – is tantamount to abandoning or softening the aspirations of Syria’s Kurds.

The proliferation of armed Kurdish groups also sets the stage for internecine conflicts, which all factions say they want to avoid.

“We didn’t operate in Kurdish areas, because we didn’t want to clash with YPG,” Hamam said, referring to the People’s Defense Units, the militant arm of the PYD. “I think they arrested us to send a message to other Kurds not to join any armed group other than the PYD.”

In reductive, ethno-sectarian analyses of Syria, the Kurds are presented as a monolithic bloc seeking an independent state. Reality is far more complex, however, and Kurds have proven to be as fractured as other components of Syrian society.

Kurdish groups have clashed this year, and the dominance of the PYD in Kurdish areas has sparked civilian protests, some of which were violently quelled.

Hamam was arrested when he went to inquire about his son’s detention. “When I arrived at the Asayish station, I was immediately searched and locked up,” he said.

A commander from the Hezarawan, a group the Asayish describes as a neighborhood-watch group and Hamam calls a “shadow police force,” insulted Hamam, but he was never physically abused in jail. He was also questioned by a man known as Shouresh, a Syrian Kurd who fought with the PKK in Turkey.

“I’ve spent time in Assad’s jails over the past two decades, and to be fair, I was treated well by the Asayish,” Hamam said. Fayyad Mula Khalil, the effective police chief in Kobani, “was very respectful and made sure I had everything I needed, including medical care,” he added.

The volunteer court in Kobani, which Hamam said he refused to recognize because it was tied to a party, not an apolitical bureaucracy, didn’t hold proceedings against Hamam because there were no formal charges. “The court basically tried to broker my release with those who wanted me in jail.”

After 52 days – just as suddenly as he was arrested – Hamam was released.

The experience has hardened his views of the PYD. He said that the PKK (which is often used interchangeably with PYD) “hasn’t cut its umbilical cord with the Assad regime, and is trying to pit the Kurds against each other.”

But Hamam remains resolute in keeping the Kurdish disputes political, rather than violent. “I’m willing to spend years in prison if it keeps the peace among Kurds,” he said. “If we escalated based on my arrest, if there are retaliations now, the only winner in that scenario is the Assad regime.”

At a recent concert in Beirut, Tarek is half-gymnast as he writhes to the ground with his guitar. Khaled is in his own world, beads of sweat on his forehead, as he strums his way into a trance. A projector casts images of the bandmates on the wall behind Dani as he pounds away. All three are wearing butcher aprons. The first thing Tarek says backstage?

“I hate politics.”

Last week, Tarek and Khaled sat down in Beirut with their manager and a fellow firebrand musician and collaborator, Raed el-Khazen, to discuss their message, their journey from Damascus to Beirut, and their forthcoming album, “180°”.

Syria Deeply:  Tarek, you said you hate politics, so how do you keep it out of your music?

Tarek: If I want to play real music, I have to deny something called politics because it’s a lie that man created. I appreciate those people who are here that can mix the two, but for me I can’t. Sometimes a person doesn’t do anything in his life, so he starts to blame politics, that they don’t let me do this or that. But I believe you can go and do your own thing. Someone says, “I’m afraid to sing.” Who told you that you can’t sing? Get out of that. I have friends that told me that once the revolution started, they started to make songs and a band.  I compared myself to them and said, “Why did they have to wait for this situation?” Since I was young I felt I had to do music. I didn’t wait till there was a disaster – maybe I can be a disaster!

Khaled: Politics is always present, so is religion. Everything is linked, but we are talking more about something human, in the head or the heart. The music and songs are our message. We are trying to bring everything to the surface.

SD: Where does the name Pressure Pot come from?

Raed al-Khazen: We live in a pressure pot – the situation of this generation is a pressure pot coming to its boiling point. The idea they present goes beyond the Arab world. It’s a generational thing, but in the Arab world they feel it more than rest of the world because even the illusion of freedom is not given to them.

SD: What’s different about your forthcoming album, “180°”?

Khaled: We were at a good point, but everything has gotten to a higher level – not only in terms of our music, but the relations between the band members, the feelings, the lyrics. And we want to keep going over 180°.

SD: What is your favorite track on “180°”?

Khaled: For me it is “Badeel” (“Alternative”). The first verse goes…

“Since the second I put my head on the pillow/My thoughts have gone all over the place/Who am I speaking to?/In my hand is a pen and paper/It is not important what I write on it/But what is waiting: to find an alternative/But speaking from the heart is impossible.”

SD: Do you ever find non-Arabic speakers at your concerts?

Tarek:  We had people from Sweden, from Denmark, a girl who made a film about us called “Taht el-Daghet” (“Under Pressure”). They felt there is something in our music: they catch the vibe.

SD: How do you feel about being seen as representatives of Syria?

Tarek:  I’m comfortable until that second where they look at me and forget that I’m playing music. I want someone from the outside to listen to me because of my music, not because they feel bad about my situation. There is something that brings the world together besides politics, and that’s music.

SD: When was the last time you played in Syria?

Tarek: It was in 2010, and they put us in a jazz festival. It’s the only place we were allowed to play. Rock is not allowed. Either jazz or you don’t play.

Khaled: Rock means you’re a devil worshipper.

SD: Are these attitudes changing?

Tarek: Now it’s getting worse. The people getting control are really taking things very far backwards.

SD: How does it feel to be based in Beirut, playing outside your home country?

Tarek:  I believe this whole thing is our world. I don’t have a country.

Khaled: I feel the same.

An Aleppo merchant said that during the 1967 war with Israel, he and many others wished that Israel would invade Syria and rid the country of the Baath Party. “We were tired of them just four years after the coup,” he said, declining to reveal his name because he never publicly opposed Bashar al-Assad’s regime.

The latest Israeli airstrike near Damascus – an overnight raid that officials said hit a cache Iranian of missiles bound for Hezbollah – pleased him. “Removing weapons from the Syrian military’s arsenal will save lives,” he said.

Reactions varied across the board in the country that has long had a highly antagonistic relationship with its neighbor.

On Tuesday, Assad made a rare public statement, saying that Israel supports “terrorists” (a name he often calls the rebel opposition) and that his government was ”capable of facing Israel’s ventures.” There was no mention of action against the Israelis.

For some civilians, outrage led to sparks of national unity – something that has not been seen in Syria since the beginning of the conflict.

“This is an attack on the sovereignty of Syrian national territory, regardless of whether it targeted a regime headquarters,” said Manhal Barish, 33, of Homs. “I refuse to accept Israeli intervention in Syrian affairs.”

Others were conflicted. “Israel is an enemy and an ally of the Assad regime. Azaz has been hit by many Scuds, so of course we want that to stop,” said Abu Anas, a fighter with a brigade in Azaz, north of Aleppo. “But Israel doesn’t care about Syrians and Palestinians, and doesn’t want the revolution to succeed.” He speculated that the strike could help Assad retreat from Damascus without leaving strategic weapons for the rebels, and said a raid of this size must have been coordinated with the U.S., and even Russia.

Many Syrians expressed similar skepticism in social media posts. Most see Israel as a natural enemy, an occupier of Syrian and Palestinian territory, and are suspicious of any actions from Tel Aviv.

Twitter and social media was flooded with reactions, much of it anti-Israel – a further blossoming of a sentiment already widely felt in Syria. The popular Syrian affairs commentator Rime Allaf tweeted: “#Syria regime says it considers #Israel strike “a declaration of war”; it must have then considered there was a “state of peace” before. Many of us have openly opposed the criminal #Israel regime & the criminal #Syria regime simultaneously, for years. Try it, it’s easy. And if you think #Israel would ever do anything to help the people of #Syria, or of any Arab country, you don’t know Israel! #Palestine.”

Meanwhile, in Dubai, a publicist from Aleppo sat at an outdoor cafe and shrugged her shoulders, echoing the feeling of indifference that has swept another segment of the population: the civilians who have grown accustomed to frequent airstrikes. “So what?” she said. “Someone else [drops a bomb.] How much worse can it get for people?”

Abu Kinan, a 29-year-old Damascene, called out the media. “The media is overly focused on these raids,” he said. “Frankly, the pictures of the children, the death and carnage [of last week's massacre] in Banias, should be at the center of peoples’ attention. Israel is only afraid for itself. The raid is nothing but fear of a weapons transfer to Hezbollah, or that weapons will fall into the hands of the rebels. I firmly believe Bashar al-Assad is servile to Israel. These raids show that the regime is only strong when it comes to massacres and ethnic cleansing.”

Others speculated that the Israelis could be taking advantage of the Syrian regime’s current preoccupation with its own civil war. “Israel may be practicing military exercises because it knows there will be no response from Syria or its allies in this time of chaos,” said Rama al-Darwish, 30, also of Damascus. “Others say they were targeting an arms shipment to Hezbollah or chemical weapons. The possibilities are open. A lot of things have also been happening in the Golan Heights. In recent months there has been gunfire and mortar shelling. But this time Israel’s intervention was stronger, because it was in the capital. Yet, I don’t foresee Israeli involvement anytime soon, because America hasn’t changed its position on dealing with the events in Syria.”

She added that the Israeli raids “embarrassed” Assad. “Now the opposition can say that there is coordination between the regime and Israel. But the raids are not only negative for the regime, but also the opposition, since both sides will point the finger at one another. The raids are only in the interest of Israel.”

Assad loyalists called for using military retaliation to send Israel a clear message. Some Syrian commentators aligned with the regime were asked by hosts on popular Al Jazeera and Al Arabiya shows whether they thought the Assad regime would strike Israel, or repeat the tired line of “withholding the right to respond.” The commentators replied that a military response is a popular demand after the latest aggression.

Meanwhile, Sharif Shehadeh, a member of the Syrian parliament, was cryptic in telling Al Jazeera that the regime would respond – quietly, he said, in a manner only Israel would know.

Nine months after coming to the U.S. from Syria to visit daughters and grandchildren who live in America (other siblings remain in Syria), and to get much-needed medical treatment, she decided that despite the ever-worsening situation back home, it was time to go back.

“I’ve visited many times,” she says. “But this is the first I’ve been here for so long.”

While in the U.S., Nadia spent most of her time on Skype calling the son and daughters she left behind in Damascus, keeping up with the latest happenings in their daily lives. She’s also glued to Arab news networks like Al Jazeera and Al Arabiya, rarely missing an update from home.

Nadia admits she finds it difficult to be away from the center of the action. “I used to hear what was happening in Darayya, Jobar, Barzeh and Harasta,” she said, rattling off the names of the Damascus suburbs that have borne the brunt of the regime’s offensives.

Nadia (not her real name) is from a well-known Damascene family and a member of Syria’s once-flourishing middle class. She was educated there by Franciscan nuns, attended college, and claims to be among the first women to drive in Syria.

Prior to the uprising against Bashar al-Assad’s regime, Nadia says she supported her president in the hope he would eventually bring about political reform and more economic opportunities for youth.

“We lived for 40 years without our basic rights under Hafez [his father] and then Bashar,” she says. “Then we asked for reform and got war instead.”

For Nadia, the cushy life she leads in the U.S. isn’t just about missing home – it’s cause for embarrassment.

How could she leave her entire family behind? How could she leave her 13 grandchildren behind?

“What if they’re arrested?” she asks. Being so far away, “what will I do then?”

Nadia’s 87-year-old mother is still in Damascus. She is sick and in need of medical treatment. Her age has left her too weak to travel for treatment abroad. Both Nadia’s and her mother’s doctors have departed the country due to the instability, leaving the elderly woman with no medical care – a problem faced by thousands of Syrians with long-term ailments.

For months Nadia delayed her return home as requested by her children in Syria, as well as those she lives with in the U.S. When she announced a month ago that she would be returning to Damascus, there was nothing her daughters could do to dissuade her.

“Her mind’s made up,” says one daughter, who lives in Virginia. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

She says that whenever other Syrians learn of her mother’s departure for their home country, they are “shocked and surprised.”

“Everyone asks if I’m crazy,” Nadia’s daughter says, exasperated. “But just as I worry about my mother’s safety, my mother has a mother of her own to worry about back home, not to mention kids and grandkids. Who am I to keep her here?”

Her worst fear is that her mother might be trapped in Damascus in a scenario where the city comes under bombardment or shelling from either side – a very real possibility as the situation in the capital intensifies.

Nadia’s lack of a solid evacuation plan heightens these fears. She’s unsure of how she would leave Damascus in case of emergency, much to the alarm of her daughters in the U.S. She did mention, however, that she would then attempt to go to Beirut – the fall-back plan for all Damascenes – until things calm down.

Nadia puts the blame for Syria’s problems and civil war squarely on the back of the regime. “How can he live with himself?” she asks, referring to Assad.

Voicing concern about the state she would find her hometown in upon her return, Nadia fears Damascus could soon meet Aleppo’s fate, were rebels to advance any further into the city.

Before leaving Syria nine months ago – with her confidence of victory for the rebels still high – she promised one of her eldest grandchildren that she would be back in time for the victory rally in Damascus’ Ummayyad Square.

“I told him not to worry about me,” she says. “I told him I’d be back.”

And she is.

(Omar Duwaji is a writer, researcher and journalist focused on the Middle East.)

Syria’s Mediterranean coastline has been spared much of the violence inflicted on the heartland. Cities like Latakia, Tartous and Jableh emerged as safe havens for citizens who were willing to remain silent or applaud the government’s crackdown on the rest of the country.

But tensions have been lurking beneath the veneer of stability since the first weeks of protests against the Assad regime in March 2011. Last week, these tensions erupted when pro-Assad militias, or Shabiha, and regime soldiers allegedly started what many fear to be a campaign to cleanse the area of Sunnis.

It began in Bayda, a village south of the port town of Baniyas. Both areas were hubs for peaceful protests in the early months of the uprising. Those demonstrations were subsequently crushed by Alawite militias from the neighboring mountains. Many Syrians first learned of the Shabiha from an incident in Bayda in April 2011, when armed men in irregular uniforms stormed the village,  and apparently stomped on the men and boys of Bayda.

Protesters carry roses in Baniyas in April 2011. The city has remained dormant since a government crackdown that spring.

The video was one of the first leaked images of militia men, speaking in an Alawite accent, who seemed to take pleasure in posing for the camera while brutalizing civilians. Hundreds of other incriminating videos have been released since then, providing ample evidence of war crimes, and laying the groundwork for a prolonged sectarian war.

Last week, the Syrian army and the National Defense Forces, believed to be an Iranian-funded incarnation of the Shabiha, reportedly swept through Bayda to kill “terrorists.” In the process they apparently left dozens of women and children dead. According to local accounts, some victims were rounded up in one home and were executed and burned, while others were shot in the street, their heads bludgeoned with rocks.

(Videos and pictures of the aftermath were widely shared, and many Syrians were appalled by the brutality. A compilation can be seen here. Readers should be warned that the scenes are disturbing.)

The campaign continued to neighborhoods in Baniyas, where entire families were apparently slaughtered. In addition to the direct victims of the violence, the events in Bayda and Baniyas have affected people around the country by heightening sectarian tension to unprecedented levels.

While official media outlets reverted to the routine narrative of denying atrocities and blaming the slaughter on “terrorists,” pro-Assad social media outlets didn’t mince words. They assumed the violence came from regime hands, and then egged on the show of force.

One Facebook page from Tartous called on army artillery and the air force to flatten parts of Baniyas in a scheme to provide seaside resorts for soldiers. Another page wished that the military would slaughter the youngest children of Bayda, so that the offspring of the other,  more “patriotic” Syrians wouldn’t have to grow up with disloyal citizens.

Many opponents of the Assad regime called for retaliation against Alawites, further weakening the position of moderates trying to maintain social harmony among the sects. One activist from Idlib lashed out against secular and moderate writers, accusing them of defending or ignoring the “criminal sect.”

Loubna Mrie, an Alawite activist who opposes the Assad regime, was more poetic in her reaction to Baniyas, which is close to her hometown of Jableh. She said that many people on the coast were aware of the horror, and   knew that the killers were roaming around in their areas.

While Syrians are still trying to understand what is happening in Baniyas, a new player has entered the conflict. Israel apparently launched a series of strikes on military facilities near Damascus on Sunday morning, in its most visible engagement after smaller sorties earlier this year.

The explosions were massive. Residents in Damascus were terrified as the night sky lit up, and the earth shook for miles. The video below, shared over 1.5 million times in two days, captures one of the larger blasts.

Reactions to the attack are still coming in and have been polarized, even within the rebel camp. Some opponents of the regime are relieved that Assad’s military has been weakened, even if it came at the hands of an enemy, while others rejected any help from Israel.

For Assad supporters, the strike was another reminder of the weakness of Syria’s military, which hasn’t responded to Israeli aggression for four decades. One prominent online supporter, who goes by the handle Syrian Commando, had renounced Twitter after the Israeli strike in January, saying he wouldn’t return until Assad retaliated.

But the scale of last week’s strike forced him out of hiding, seemingly to urge Assad, Iran and Hezbollah to live up to their defense pact, and to call for genocide against opponents of the regime.

We can still win, we have four more missile complexes. Clear opposition areas with chemical weapons and start the war NOW. #Syria

— ✩ Syrian Commando ✩ (@syriancommando) May 5, 2013