SHALL I RETURN?

 

“Will the Syrians return?” remains a loaded question as Syria takes its first steps on the long road to recovery after half a century under tyranny. Syrian author and poet Rasha Omran poses that very question in the title of her article, “Will the Syrians Return?” published in Arabic in Diffah 3. Her story resonates with many Syrians who left the country, but rather than focus on why many chose to leave, Omran touches on the delicate issues faced by those considering returning from displacement once conditions allow.

 

Rasha Omran is one of those who have left. A poet in her own right and the author of five books, including an anthology of Syrian poetry, she is the daughter of the late modernist poet Muhammad Omran, the editor of the literary supplement for Al Thawra newspaper during the 1970s whose articles appeared in two prestigious journals, Al Naqed, and Al Adab. Although Omran was not forced to leave Syria, security forces intimidated her, arrested her daughter, and continually pressured her to leave the country. In 2012, she left Syria to settle in Cairo and embark on her journey of displacement.

 

Omran was not a militant opposition figure. In some press interviews, she clarified that she does not wish to be directly or actively involved in politics or join anti-Assad groups. From reading her essay in Diffah 3 and listening to her interview on Al Mashhad BBC, I gathered that she hopes to limit her time to her creative endeavors.

 

Like others facing similar situations, displaced Syrians must confront two bureaucratic-authoritarian nightmares. Despite having left Syria 13 years ago, Omran writes, “I still haven’t been to Syria. My Syrian nationality continues to prevent me from achieving this dream.” The challenges of their displacement are multifaceted, encompassing both their current residence and the home they left behind, forcing many to conceal or deny the homeland after all these years.

 

Refugee and displaced communities, both Syrians and non-Syrians, often share the same frustrations as Omran: should they stay in their adopted countries or return home? My experiences as an immigrant have shown me that it’s uncommon to hear an immigrant story that doesn’t involve legal residency obstacles. Omran’s situation is no different: “I don’t have a residence permit where I am now. If I left, I wouldn’t be able to return to this home and life that operates at a pace suitable for my psychological and health conditions. The best way to describe my life’s pace is that it aligns with my physical and psychological well-being.”

 

However, Omran’s frustrations are rooted not in legal or bureaucratic issues but in emotional ones, leaving her in a dilemma. “Still, I dream of Damascus,” she writes, yearning to leave everything and return to Syria. Yet, such dreams are pushed aside by her sobering reality: “But my mind holds back this impulse: I am 60 years old, I have heart health issues, I take a lot of medication, my only source of income is writing, which demands stability and calm, and truly, my whole situation depends on the presence of suitable logistical conditions.”

 

Considering her circumstances, Omran’s answer to the question of return comes down to a calculative discussion of pros and cons. What are the benefits and drawbacks of remaining in one’s adopted country instead of returning to start anew? She maintains a balance of privacy and vulnerability as she divulges her personal and health issues, especially in how they factored into her decision to remain rather than return. She explains, “My family and friends are all overseas…I own nothing in Syria — no house, land, money, or family; everything is abroad. I would need to find a place to rent and furnish.”

 

“Living a fulfilling life at this age requires making new friends,” she writes. Her health condition prevents her from participating in demanding psychological challenges. Emotional impulses at her age also pose risks to her health, creating psychological stress, which doctors advise her to minimize to protect her heart from damage. Despite these challenges, she hopes to move to Syria to see if she can live there.

 

Omran anticipates criticism from those who stayed behind toward those who left despite fears of being overly scrutinized. She clarifies misconceptions about people living abroad, like herself, while acknowledging the hardships of those who chose to remain. Syrian refugees did not live in luxury, but they also survived without harsh daily living conditions. They did not experience power outages, did not go hungry, and were not fearful about expressing their opinions due to a lack of medicine or healthcare. They did not suffer from ‘war syndrome’ like those who remained.

 

At the same time, exiles faced their challenges and different integration crises. Omran’s audacious style and voice in writing allow her to bring attention to some of the difficulties immigrants face in exile. Newly displaced communities must learn the languages of their host countries, navigate cultural clashes, and enter the labor market. We should not overlook the racist acts and anti-immigrant sentiment that have arisen in parts of Europe or their consequent impacts. Additionally, numerous young people in their new societies have suffered from nostalgia, exile trauma, psychological stress, and addiction.

 

Beyond the circumstances preventing her return, Omran also touches on obstacles that may prevent many Syrians from returning home based on her years of observing the Syrian community. “The years they spent in exile while struggling to build new homes will make it difficult for them to return to Syria and start over in a destroyed, exhausted, and aging country, whose joints have been eaten away by the diseases of tyranny, war, sectarianism, regionalism, corruption, careerism, and opportunism,” she writes. Many in exile have found jobs in their new communities or have children in school. They have established their new lives over the years, so deciding to relocate to Syria and contribute to its rebuilding will not be easy. To this, she urges understanding: “We should not make them feel guilty about not returning to a country lacking the most essential elements of everyday life.”

 

Similar challenges faced those who left and found they could not escape the ‘diseases’ that had plagued Syria even in their new countries. This is especially true for sectarianism and opportunism, which will likely thrive in a communication-driven environment where “populism is the queen and mistress of the situation.” However, Omran is convinced that even if Syrians return, they will not “build a modern state, but rather dismantle it and contribute to its consecration.” According to her, a just state and a homeland that accommodates all its people require Syria to eliminate hate speech swiftly. Her fear of sectarianism, which she describes as “a time bomb that constantly warns of an imminent explosion whose consequences could exceed the past decade’s Syrian conflict,” drives the search for a solution.

 

Bureaucratic issues also hinder the return of many Syrians. Many returning after liberation have newly acquired nationalities and the support of official administrations capable of protecting and ensuring their exit should the security situation in Syria worsen. However, these assurances are not universally held for all Syrians abroad. While those in the aforementioned category have new governments to protect them, many displaced Syrians face high risks. In the words of Omran, “If there are security problems in Syria, they will likely be under immense psychological pressure, preventing them from taking positive action. They will also lose their current residency and future nationalities.”

 

Despite being a poet, Omran bears the insights and perspectives of a sociologist when discussing what it takes to rebuild Syria. At the same time, she remains empathetic in her analysis, asking, “What is the fault of those inside Syria? Are they the ones expected to rebuild the country?” Although she doesn’t directly address the “brain drain” afflicting the developing world, she implies that the return to Syria after the war is a patriotic duty. In her words, “Syria needs all those who left it,” as those who remained during the years of death and conflict have suffered enough and cannot “rebuild the country and society alone,” and “those who stayed and endured the war must first catch their breath and feel secure that their living conditions will improve before they can contribute to Syria’s rebuilding.” She states, “People in need cannot change the course of history.”

 

Instead, she bets on the middle class: “This makes any society’s middle class the bearer of political or economic change.” She adds that Syria today has no middle class, as “its middle class is dispersed into asylum countries and foreign societies, both financially and in value terms.” Instead, Syria has been reduced to “a crushed class and a class of new war profiteers. The new wealthy fled with their president or remained in Syria, drumming up support for the new ruler and approving what he did. These are slaves to their interests; they do not care about their homelands or the future and cannot be relied upon to amend the proposed course for the country.”

 

She believes many of those who have returned are blind to the reality of Syria’s devastation. According to Omran, a “victor’s pride” obscures the truth, for “the victor’s eye is blind to every flaw.” Vertical divisions rooted in sectarianism and denominationalism, and their high-pitched rhetoric warning of dire consequences, destroy society, states Omran.

 

Omran must be commended for her openness and distinction between general and personal rationale regarding Syrian return. As she admits, starting over in Syria is not easy, nor will living under the harsh conditions under which Syrians currently live. She writes, “As selfish and unfair as it may seem to those inside, I did not decide to leave Syria for luxury or desire. Like hundreds of thousands of Syrians, I had to go under duress and at official request, and I suffered physical and psychological collapse. It is too late to stand firm again.” She does not spare herself from judgment or avoid self-reflection in her decision not to make a “final return” to Syria. However, her answer does not represent all who face the same return question. Omran concludes with a confident yet hopeful faith in the resilience of the Syrian people: “There is a lot that can be done even if we do not move our lives to Syria. People do not lack ways to rebuild their homelands after devastating wars. Syrians inside have already begun rebuilding their lives. Neither will the Syrians outside stand by; they have already taken the initiative to do whatever is necessary. Several of their visits to Syria are not leisure trips but an effort to build a civil society inside and outside. At the very least, this can prevent Syria from becoming another failed state without social justice or development.”