We've beem labeled traitors and Zionist agents who deserve Assad’s sarin gas, but after Nasrallah's death, we handed out baklava.
On October 7th of last year, I was casually scrolling through my Instagram account, when images of a sickening massacre started flooding my newsfeed. At first, I assumed such a degree of brutality could only have been carried out by the Assad regime and Hezbollah against yet another Syrian town. A chill ran down my spine when I realized that this had taken place in Israel and was perpetrated by Hamas.
As more videos and survivor accounts emerged, I began experiencing a mixture of disgust, helplessness, and fear. Flashbacks to Syria’s bloodiest atrocities came rushing back to me. “I hope they don’t have more massacres planned,” I thought to myself, recalling how Assad, Hezbollah, and Iranian-backed militias used to conduct massacres in tandem across Syria.
I was enraged when I saw videos of baklava being distributed in celebration by supporters of Hamas, Hezbollah, and Assad. I spoke to several Syrian activists that day. In describing their disgust at the massacre, they used words carved deeply into the Syrian psyche, such as Tadamon, Madayah, Holah, and Khan Sheikhun. While these words may be meaningless sounds to many non-Syrians, to us, each of them represents a deep wound within our souls. On October 7th, the collective free Syrian consciousness experienced a horrible episode of PTSD, though few dared to express it.
“I can no longer eat baklava. There they go again, using it to celebrate another barbaric massacre.” Samia whispered over the phone, her voice hoarse from crying. “For 13 years they’ve been using baklava as a weapon of war against us. The sight of it nauseates me.” It was typical of Samia to switch her attention to something minor like baklava to avoid dealing with a gruesome event. As she spoke, my mind flashed back to countless baklava rituals we had endured over the years. The baklava celebrations by Hezbollah after the Qusayr massacre, the Dabke and baklava parties by Assad’s supporters after the Ghouta chemical attack, and the list goes on and on.
As Israel’s war against Hamas unfolded over the following year, many ordinary Syrians seemed notably disengaged relative to other Arab and Muslim communities. I could feel that Syrian attitudes towards Israel were shifting in an unprecedented manner, but people were still afraid to say so publicly. Perhaps it was confusion of feeling empathy towards the Jewish people despite having grown up in a strict dictatorship that pumped antisemitic myths into our minds throughout our lives. Perhaps it was the fear of angering Turkey, which controlled every grain of wheat and rice that entered northwest Syria. However, thirteen years of massacres proved to the Syrian people that their only true enemies were Assad, Hezbollah, and Iran.
When Israel launched its most recent offensive against Hezbollah, the transformation in Syrian sentiment was complete. Whenever Israel assassinated a senior Hezbollah leader who had overseen a massacre of our countrymen, Syrians in the northwest celebrated with fireworks, music, and sweets. In a bold display, some carried signs thanking Israel for its efforts against Hezbollah. However, the pro-Hamas mob quickly came for Syrians everywhere. We were labeled traitors and Zionist agents who deserved Assad’s barrel bombs and Sarin gas. Assad used this as an excuse for more killing and torture. Syrian refugees in Lebanon were tied down and beaten while refugees in Turkey lived in fear of renewed waves of racism against them.
The watershed moment came when Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu ordered the assignation of Hassan Nasrallah. Massive spontaneous rallies broke out in Idlib and the rest of northwest Syria. So much baklava was shared that pâtisseries in Idlib were fully sold out for several days. Shocking to many were the signs carried by many Syrians directly thanking Abu Yair, a nickname we use when referring to Netanyahu. A group of brave activists used Google Translate to write a banner thanking the prime minister in broken Hebrew. The taboo had finally been broken.
I called Samia that day. I could hear loud Arabic music blasting in the background.
“Are you happy?” I asked.
“Of course I’m happy! I can finally eat baklava!”
“It seems we’ll be eating a lot of it these coming days.”
“I know! I have already bought two boxes. I opened one of them today, and I’m saving the other one for the big celebration.”
”Abu Raqbe?” I asked, mocking Assad.
“Why not? With Abu Yair, nothing is impossible.” She replied melodically.
About the Author
The writer, a critic of the Assad regime, was born and raised in Syria and now lives in the West. His identity is undisclosed to protect family member still living in the region.
28/10/2024 by THE TIMES OF ISRAEL
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