Untying The Syrian Knot

Five years ago, I chanced to be exiting a Damascus restaurant. A piece of art was hanging askew above that establishment’s portal. The painting depicted three men. The man in the middle was deceased Syrian President Hafez al-Assad. He was flanked by current Syrian President Bashir al-Assad. The third image was the likeness of Sheikh Hasan Nazralleh, radical Shiite leader of Hezbollah.

I was curious at the seemingly awkward juxtaposition of Sheikh Nazrallah with Presidents Hafez and Bashir al-Assad. I queried the restaurant’s proprietor: “Why is a Hezbollah terrorist pictured with Syria’s presidents?” The proprietor’s response was illuminating. His Arabic response was ensconced in an acerbic –if not venerable- Arabic aphorism: “Adoo adoowee sadeechee” (The enemy of my enemy is my friend)!

Not satisfied with that enigmatic response, I pressed for clarification. I questioned: “Who is the enemy of your enemy?” The proprietor’s response was unequivocal. “Mr. Bush is the enemy and Sheikh Nazrallah is the enemy of our enemy!” An abundance of caution enveloped me. I terminated my discussion with that restauranteur.

Once outside the restaurant, I posed a not unrelated question to a knowledgeable Syrian. His response was also instructive. He said: “Syrians hate Mr. Bush’s foreign policy. We do not hate Americans. I cannot say more. I cannot cross the red-line. They count my words.”

Intrigued, I pressed on. “Who counts your words?” The response was designedly oblique, but sufficiently transparent. “The Alevis count my words. More I will not say.”

To those in the know, the Alevis are the ruling coterie of seemingly secular Syrian Shiites. That sounds, seems and smells like an inexplicable contradiction. It is. But it paints a proper portrait of Syrian society and its politics.

The elite Alawite sect includes the leaders of the ruling socialist Baath party. They are abetted by affluent businessmen, industrialists and Syria’s notorious secret police, the Mukhabarat. These people run Syria. Indeed, of the 250 parliamentary seats, 170 are constitutionally reserved for the ruling Baath party and its allies. It is, therefore, no surprise that the Baath party has not lost a single election since 1963.

That said, Syria sits at the strategic crossroads of the Middle East. Syria has repeatedly been a geopolitical flashpoint and the battlefield for expanding empires. As a result, Syria has rarely ruled itself. That fact has molded the Syrian mentality. Repeated foreign invasions (by the Assyrians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Egyptians and Ottomans) have been a blessing and a curse to the Syrians.

Foreign rule blessed Syria with wonderful cultural diversity. But foreign rule also implanted a paranoia about Syria’s national identity. In fact, Syrians demonstrate an absence of national cohesiveness as well as demonstrable mistrust for their central government.

As a result, Syrian loyalty is fragmented. Syrian allegiances are local. Syrian fidelity and trust depend on local, ethnic and religious considerations. Given its history, an oppressed minority mentality pervades Syria’s national persona. That is illuminating.

Still, Syrians do have universal suffrage, albeit in the powerful presence of one-party rule. Additionally, it is also notable that half of Syria’s twenty-two million citizens are too young to vote. Most of these are still under age fifteen. As such, they are impressionable, malleable and unpredictable.

Of equal import, Syria is not monolithic. While it is a country whose citizens are overwhelmingly Arab (90%), Syria also encompasses substantial non-Arab groups, notably Kurds and Armenians. Additionally, while about 70% of Syrians are Sunni Moslems, there are also Shiite Moslems (13%), Orthodox Christians (10%), Alevis (6%) and Druze (1%). There also are strong Greek, Armenian and Syrian Orthodox churches.

Perhaps unexpectedly, freedom of religion does exist in Syria. Contrast that with Saudi Arabia where the public practice of any religion except Islam is not only strictly forbidden, but where apostasy from Islam is punishable by death.

Even more significantly regarding religion in Syria, a 1950 plebiscite officially rejected Islam as the national religion. That policy still stands. That is a matter of no little consequence in a region suffused with Islamic
militancy. This lends greater import to the fact that Syria still bans The Muslim Brotherhood.

Interestingly, Syria’s existence as a staunchly socialist, secularized, Arab nation should –but does not- fly in the face of Iran’s non-Arab, Shiite/Islamic theocracy. Somehow that reality goes unnoticed. But the very existence of a nominally secular Syrian state ruled by apostate Alevis is absolutely anathema to Saudi Arabia’s fundamentalist Sunni monarchy. As such, the blatant animosity of Saudi royalty for the Syrian Alevis (and Syrian Shiites) is yet another –often unrecognized - fly in the geopolitical ointment that greases the region.

These are not bland differences without bold distinctions. This is dramatic reality. This is a region where the fourteen-century old animosity between Sunnis and Shiites is palpable. As one Mideast expert opined, anyone who thinks that there can be détente between the Sunnis and Shiites displays an “arrogant ignorance of Islam.”

That said, Syria’s constitution requires its President to be a Moslem. Yet President Bashir al-Assad is an Alevi, a secularized, secret and somewhat Christianized sect. Alevi ties to Shiite Islam are tenuous, at best. As a result, an arrangement with a prominent Shiite cleric produced a fatwa (Moslem religious edict) proclaiming that Alevis are still Shiites. Thus, Bashir Al-Asad’s presidency technically complies with the mandate of the Syrian constitution.

The Syrian government says that the Alevis constitute 10-16% of Syria’s population. Street demographers in Damascus’ alleyways beg to differ. They protest that the Alevis constitute only three per cent of the population. The truth lies in between. But, percentages aside, the tension between the ruling Alevis and the residue of effectively disenfranchised Syrian citizens seems clear.

The bottom line is that the Syrian government is a roguish entity
suffused with unsavory predilections and distasteful predispositions. The
Syrian government officially restricts public meetings, censors the media,
controls transportation, hosts terrorist organization offices (Hamas; Hezbollah; Islamic Jihad; Kurdish rebel groups), sponsors state terrorism and remains in cahoots with Iran in suspect endeavors.

In the midst of all this, Israel’s Ha’aretz newspaper prominently asserted: “…it is preferable to have Bashir Assad sitting in Damascus rather than the Muslim Brotherhood.”

Of course, it is crystal clear that the Assad government harbors a decided lack of love for the West. At the same time, most Syrians have precious little more than an expedient affection for Iran, Syria’s political paramour. To the extent that Iran is Syria’s friend, it is because Iran not only supplies political, economic and military support, but also because Iran is the enemy of Syria’s enemy, the Great Satan of the West.

In fact, it may not be inappropriate for Western diplomats to explore precisely what it takes to turn an enemy into a friend. Is it unreasonable to suggest that Western foreign policy makers should take instruction from an old Syrian proverb. It affirms: “Every knot has someone who can undo it” (i.e. every problem has a solution). At the very least, that seems worth talking about. But will Bashir al-Assad ever talk turkey?

Turkey? Isn’t that where Syrian dissidents and defectors find sanctuary?