Feuzi He never wanted it. His wish, when he abandoned his Aleppo birth at the age of 16 – he is now 28 – it was never about leaving there, leaving his parents behind and going, with his older brother, in the direction of Türkiye.
But he did it—they did it—and until this Monday, both brothers have lived in the border town of churchjust 60 kilometers from Aleppo and his parents, who were behind a frontera that was insurmountable to them. The years passed, the war It continued and, while both brothers struggled to survive between carpentry and construction, their parents died.
This Monday, however, the brothers separate. Hamzathe older brother, returns to Syria. Feuzi will wait a little longer: “He crosses today, because his wife’s parents’ house is still standing and habitable. But I, having nowhere to stay, am staying here a while longer,” says Feuzi, and that this time The extra time in Turkey will be little, a few weeks, a month at the latest, because what he wants is to return now, find an apartment in Aleppo, do whatever it takes.
Coming back is the only thing that matters to him right now. “I guess with the city the way it is, after so many years of destructionI can work as a carpenter, right? But hey, right now I don’t care. All I want is to return to my own country. No feel like a foreignersomeone who at some point will have to leave,” explains Feuzi.
His brother, next to him, continues the conversation, but only half-heartedly. Like him, several dozen Syrians crowd at the border crossing in Öncüpinar/Bab Salamain Kilis, waiting to travel the road back home, possible after the fall, this Sunday, of the regime of Bashar al-Asadthe until now Syrian president.
The path that these Syrians take in Türkiye will, however, be in only one direction. “Once they cross this door, we revoke their residence permitwe search their belongings, we see that they have no criminal records or fines to pay and, if everything is fine, we let them pass. We write them down as refugees who carry out the ‘voluntary return’so once they leave, they can’t come back in,” explains a Turkish official at the border.
The pace is slow and, all day long, standing before the gentle December sun, the Syrians who are going to cross wait nervously. “We’ve been here since seven in the morning already! We don’t want anything! It’s just that open the door and let us pass!”, shouts one of the local men, dressed with packages and suitcases and two small children, each anchored, on both sides, in the father’s armpits.
The official, who has approached to ask for calm, returns to his post. The trickle is not flowing fast, but it will continue for the next few days and months. But one thing does seem certain: a large part of the Syrians in Türkiye—the country in the world with the most refugees welcomes—he will return to his country if the situation allows it and Bashar al Assad stays far away.
Run away from the fight
It is a constant among male Syrian refugees from Türkiye. Many, during the first years of the conflict, escaped or were Syrian regular army or a future call to military servicewhich became the confirmation of a certain sentence: the obligation to declare war on your neighbors, shoot them, kill them.
Or refuse to do so and thus enter the bottomless pit of Assad’s prisons and torture roomswhere detained Syrians—those who have not died—have spent decades endedisolated and without seeing the light of day.
With Assad on the run, many now no longer feel the danger of the knock on the back of their necks. Therefore, returning is possible. “I escaped from the Army in Damascus11 years ago. I fought with Ahrar al-Sham —one of the largest rebel militias—in Cityand I was one of those who was transported on buses,” he recalls. Abdul.
Ghouta, a neighborhood on the outskirts of the Syrian capital, was besieged for years by Russian and Assad aviation, which in 2013 used sarin gas against the civilian population of the area. In 2018, after several years of siege and famine, the Army captured the region, and reached an agreement so that the defeated rebels would be sent by buses to the last Syrian rebel zone, Idleb regionfrom where the opposition offensive that ended the Damascus regime in 10 days began two weeks ago.
“I didn’t last long in Idlib. Two months. I was afraid, you know? I didn’t want to go through the same thing again, because if they had captured me they would have killed and tortured rebel and deserter,” says Abdul, and that in all these years he has lost his entire family, that he is alone, he has no one, he says, but now what does it matter? Today, Abdul, after half a life at war , returns home. “During these years in Turkey I have worked on textile factories —says the man—. Now I’ll work on anything.”
Subscribe to continue reading
