Syrian Prisoners of Conscience, I Witness for You
Prisoners of conscience in Syria: the regime keeps increasing their numbers. Each one has a face, a family, a story; has dignity, beauty, courage. I am learning them by heart. Let me share a few with you.
There’s Ahmad Thany Abazid, a fourteen-year-old boy, the only one still in prison of the original fifteen Dara children imprisoned for writing “the people want the fall of the regime” on school walls. That writing on the wall would become the demand of the Syrian uprising. Ahmad’s been held continuously since late February. I don’t know what’s worse, that he was initially detained at the Damascus Palestine Branch, a bureau notorious for torture, or that he was later transferred to an ordinary jail in Dara, to be housed with rapists and other violent offenders. His father’s deceased. Ahmad, hang in there, sweetheart. I love you; I bear witness for you. Witness for him with me, world.
Damascus girl-next-door Malak Shanawani, 26, is smart, brave, gorgeous—I don’t know how much more amazing she can be. She was cheerily posting invites to the civil disobediences expressing solidarity for Egypt’s revolution in the heart of Damascus, organized in late January by Suhair Atassi (a key woman who rocks the Syrian revolution, in hiding for months). My heart goes out to Malak from the picture where she’s wearing a t-shirt declaring in Arabic, “I Am Against Honor Killings” and holding up a sign that says “Woman=Human Being” (above, at right). You said it, Malak. Malak was chased down for months by security before they caught her on September 22. Malak: You are a human being. Also, you rock. Also, I love you.
I love them; I love their stories. There’s Hazem Abdullah, doing anti-bigotry work in a conflict zone. Before he was captured, Hazem was taking his group, “the Connection Makers,” at risk to their lives, to spread a message of tolerance in neighborhoods of various religious communities in Homs: Alawite, Sunni, Christian, Ismaili. Did I mention, in a conflict zone? With tanks and tear gas and live bullets flying? Could someone nominate Hazem for an award, please?
From Daraya, held by the vicious Air Force Intelligence branch which tortured his younger friend Ghiyath Matar to death on September 9, is Muhammad Shurbaji, father of five, known to his friends as “Maan.” Daraya, population 180,000, is an epicenter of committed nonviolence; it boasts six hundred prisoners detained in this revolution and counting. Fourteen other Shurbajis including Maan’s brother, nonviolence visionary and protest organizer Yahya Shurbaji, are imprisoned. Leaks from prison say Maan is being especially subjected to torture, perhaps to try to break his brother. Blessings and love to protect you, Shurbajis.
Suwayda sculptor and archeological restorations expert Tareq Abdulhay, 43, resisted regime attempts to recruit him for its public relations campaign that claims minorities, such as those of his Druze background, support the regime. Instead, Tareq posted tributes to the innocents massacred at Dara, whose sacrifice, he says, gave “my humanity back to me by challenging violence, villainy, tanks, and half-men.” His family, like the relatives of the other prisoners, are refused contact with him, even to give him medications for his ulcer. Courage, my brother Tareq, my exact age, my brother artist.
Imad AbdulQader is a gentle Kurdish nonviolence proponent from Qamishlo, a medical resident whose wife, Basma Khaless, is expecting their first child. Devoted pro-Palestinian activist Yareb Mahameed of Dara has been imprisoned since August. Does this revolution have hotties? Just look at Yareb on his bike; the girls around him clearly see it too. I’m compiling a potential sons-in-law list. This one doesn’t just look like an action-movie hero; he faces real bullets; Yareb was wounded on May 15. Triumph, Yareb.
Three brothers of Latakia, Ahmad, Omar, and Tareq Antar, have been held since September 8. Knowing how the regime will torment a prisoner by forcing him to watch the torture of his loved one, I shudder. Despite what they may be doing to you, brothers, we witness your dignity.
They are all held extrajudicially, without warrant or charge. They are incommunicado, never a good thing: It means the state thinks it can do what it wants with them, including deny they are in custody, deny responsibility. The only thing between them and this oblivion the regime wants for them is the testimony we bear for them. We stand witness for them, world. We must.
Their names and their faces follow me into my sleep. Ahmad, Malak, Hazem, Maan, Tareq, Omar, Yareb, Imad, Yahya, and so many others: I greet you each day; you are living in the dehumanizing conditions of detention in Syria. What are you eating? How are you sleeping, rising? Do not think we do not hear you. We raise your names. We witness for you. Even those of you whose names we do not yet have, we know you’re there. We hear you. You are powerful. You are human beings subjected to inhuman treatment; your innate dignity shines through. You are beauty facing ugliness. The regime is doing its best to cut you off from the rest of human existence, ban communication from your family, but never think you are alone. You are not alone.
