As the war in continues, a quarter of the country’s population live as refugees, scattered around the world.

Syrian President Bashar al-Assad has repeatedly called for refugees to return in a bid to rehabilitate his reputation on the world stage. However, international monitors including the United Nations maintain that conditions are not yet ready for refugees to return, with testimonies of arbitrary arrests, torture and enforced conscription reported almost daily.

Under international law, refugees with a well- founded fear of persecution cannot be forcibly repatriated. But as the climate toward migrants and refugees grows increasingly hostile in host countries, Syrians are being forced to go back. In , where an estimated 1.5 million Syrians reside, the pressure to return has reached breaking point. A refugee camp in Tel Abbas. Akkar, North Lebanon. Hannah Kirmes-Daly

“We are your children, oh Syria, and by God’s word, we miss you!” sing a handful of children whilst excitedly running through a corridor of tents in a small Syrian refugee camp near the Listen to the village of Tel Abbas, Akkar, Lebanon’s children Play northernmost province. It’s the singing morning of Eid, a major Islamic holiday, and the children’s excitement cannot be contained any longer. Listen to the Play children singing

More than 50 Syrian families live here, in two rows of plastic tents tucked away amongst tobacco fields, just a few miles from the Syrian border. Concerned parents reluctantly watch over their kids. “It’s better for them not to play on the main roads,” says Rayan. Only a few days before, the Lebanese army raided a neighboring camp, arresting more than 14 men. Since then, everyone is on the alert.

Rayan, from Hula in rif , Syria. Hannah Kirmes-Daly

Listen to Rayan's Play story A mother of seven, Rayan has taken the day off work. “It’s Eid after all,” she smiles. In 2013 Rayan and her children fled their hometown of Houla after surviving a massacre orchestrated by pro-regime paramilitaries known as . Their family has been living in Lebanon ever since, working the land of a Lebanese farmer for $5 dollars a day. Three of Rayan’s seven kids were born under a plastic shelter in Lebanon. “We rent a tent on the same field where we work, depending on the season. All of us work, except for Khalid of course,” she laughs gesturing to her youngest three-year-old son. A Syrian boy plays on top of the tents in a refugee camp in Tel Abbas. Luca Cilloni

A Syrian man plays backgammon with friends over tea. Luca Cilloni Clothes drying outside the home of a Syrian family in Tel Abbas. Luca Cilloni Child labour is extremely common amongst Syrian refugees in Lebanon. Many families have no option but to send their children to school until they are old enough to work. Only one of Rayan’s sons attends school: “I know that education is important. I am not ignorant. But we cannot survive otherwise.” Rayan’s husband Omar cannot work. Imprisoned in a Syrian prison for four years, he suffers from severe psychosis as a consequence of torture. He sits with us on a foam mattress, lighting one cigarette after another. Anti-psychotic medicine alleviates his epilepsy while pushing life away from his eyes. He rarely leaves the spot except for a monthly trip to the city of Tripoli, where he goes to collect his medication. “It’s a nightmare every time we have to cross the checkpoint to Tripoli,” says Rayan. Like 74% of Syrians in Lebanon, Rayan’s family have no legal status, leaving them vulnerable to arbitrary arrest and detention. Omar has been arrested four times by Lebanese authorities at the checkpoints. “Not even a doctor’s note can prevent his arrest if they stop us. And every time they detain him, it brings back all the memories of torture in prison,” she says. “But what other option do we have?” Haloed in a cloud of cigarette smoke, Omar doesn’t respond. Silence is broken by Rayan’s brother A view of the local mosque Walid, who bursts into the tent in Tel Abbas. Luca Cilloni laughing, his seven-year-old son closely behind, spraying plastic bullets into the air with his new toy gun. Walid and his son have been sharing the tent with Rayan’s family since their shelter in Al Yasmine camp was demolished by the Lebanese army on April 24th. The demolition of Al Yasmine camp was the first of many, following the Lebanese Supreme Defence Council decision to heighten restrictive actions towards Syrian refugees, including the destruction of all concrete structures inside Syrian camps. “We knew there was an order related to the illegality of concrete buildings in camps, but when [the army] arrived here, they took down toilet cubicles and wooden structures too,” says Alaa, a social worker from Qatari NGO URDA. “Any tent that was unoccupied was also destroyed, whilst furniture and household appliances were loaded onto trucks and taken away.” In June 2019, over 5,000 structures were destroyed and more than 30,000 individuals made homeless. “We were lucky,” Walid smiles at his sister. “Not everyone had family they could stay with.” The remains of Bar Elias camp demolished by the Lebanese Army in July 2019. Sourced by the authors Syrians destroy their own homes in a refugee camp in Arsal. Sourced by the authors The remains of Bebnine refugee camp burnt down by Lebanese youth after local tensions escalated into violence. Sourced by the authors The border region of Arsal, in the Beqaa Valley, was hit the hardest by these demolitions. Most tents in Arsal had been built with concrete rather than canvas to withstand winter’s heavy snowfalls. After the first round of demolitions in June, the Lebanese army gave Syrians a week’s notice to destroy all concrete structures in their makeshift homes if they wanted to avoid more army raids. In July this year, tents housing 55,000 refugees were destroyed in Arsal alone. “The order to dismantle the camps was a political move to put pressure on Syrians to go back,” says Bassel Houjeiry, the Mayor of Arsal. “It has nothing to do with the administrative regulations that are being given as an excuse.”

Refugee camps sprawl across the valley of Arsal. Sourced by the authors He receives us in his brand-new office. The old one was severely damaged in the 2014 ‘’ when hardline Islamist groups from Syria briefly overran the town. “Our security is good now,” Mr Houjeiry assures us. “Today our main problem is economic. Syrians outnumber Lebanese locals three to one. There is a lot of competition for work and we have to deal with four times the amount of waste we used to have.” Asked whether he thinks Syrians should go back, he cuts us short. “We all know people are here because they are scared of the Syrian government. I hope they will return soon, but without force and only when it is safe to do so.” Listen Listen to to Play Houjeiry's Play Abood’s story story Mr Houjeiry’s stance is not a popular one: many Lebanese are tired of the pressures of hosting so many Syrians and want them to leave now. Led by the country’s strongman foreign minister, Gebran Bassil, anti-Syrian rhetoric has spearheaded a political campaign blaming Syrian refugees for Lebanon’s unemployment rate and economic woes - even accusing the UN and international organizations of intimidating refugees who wish to return voluntarily. “I agree with Minister Bassil,” echoes Tony Abood, Mayor of Minyara and staunch advocate of Syrian’s repatriation. "Most Syrians would be welcomed back with no risks at all. The only reason they stay here is because of the help they get from the UN.” Encouraged by such rhetoric, and in the absence of a central strategy with how to deal with the refugee influx, many municipalities all across the country have imposed curfews, whilst incidents of collective punishment against Syrian communities are on the rise. Such pressure is leading many Syrians Soldiers from the Lebanese to leave Lebanon. “He couldn’t stand Army patrol the streets in this life any longer,” sighed Rayan Lebanon's northenmost city when telling us of her son in law of Tripoli. Luca Cilloni Nasser, married to her eldest daughter Mariam. After he was badly beaten by a Lebanese gang on his way back to work, Nasser had registered himself and eight-month pregnant Mariam with the Lebanese General Security, requesting to return to his hometown Sfireh, in the outskirts of Aleppo. A woman stands with all her possessions as she prepares to return to Syria. Roshan De Stone A woman walks between the tents and buildings on the Lebanese-Syrian border of Arsal. David Suber Lights from Syria can be seen from border town of Qaa in Lebanon. David Suber Since then, the Lebanese government have upped their efforts push out Syrians through mass deportations. Two days after the camp in Al Yasmine was demolished, 16 Syrian men at Beirut’s airport were deported to Syria after being forced to sign voluntary repatriation forms. Between May and August this year, Lebanon’s General Security confirmed it had deported over 2,700 Syrians, an average of 22 Syrians per day. Legal organisations and human rights groups in Lebanon and abroad have been warning the international community about the illegality and risks concealed in blending ‘voluntary’ return schemes with unlawful deportation practices. Since April this year, deportations of Syrians could occur through a simple verbal order from the Public Prosecution, justified by the government’s claim that Syria is “safe” for return.

Since then, the Lebanese government have upped their efforts push out Syrians through mass deportations. Two days after the camp in Al Yasmine was demolished, 16 Syrian men at Beirut’s airport were deported to Syria after being forced to sign voluntary repatriation forms. Between May and August this year, Lebanon’s General Security confirmed it had deported over 2,700 Syrians, an average of 22 Syrians per day. Legal organisations and human rights groups in Lebanon and abroad have been warning the A man stands amongst the destroyed ruins of an opposition neighbourhood in Homs. Sourced by the authors But Syria is far from being safe. For most young Syrian men, return is synonymous with forced conscription in the government’s army. Three days after arriving to Syria, Rayan’s son-in- law Nasser was abducted from his parent’s house. “They [Nasser and his wife Mariam] were both terrified the day they left,” Rayan said, “but he was so sure he would have found a secure job once he was back.” No one knew what had happened to Nasser until a month later, when he sent a picture of himself: alive, but dressed in an army uniform, standing in a government training camp in Damascus.

According to the Syrian authorities, men returning from exile should be given a six-month grace period before being conscripted. But this promise is often ignored as the regime desperately needs young men to fight in their depleted and battle-weary army. During that month, Mariam gave birth to her first child, Sham. She now lives with Nasser’s mother in the side of their house that has not been damaged by shelling. Close to Rayan’s camp, Sheikh Ahmed The remains of Homs' high- and his 74-year-old father Walid greet rise apartment blocks in us in the cold wide basement of a local Syria. Sourced by the mosque. The air is heavy as we are authors served the usual cup of welcoming tea. Walid fled back to Lebanon after returning to Syria in July 2018. He too had signed up as a voluntary returnee with the Lebanese General Security. Returning to Homs, Sheikh Ahmed had believed his father’s old age would have been a guarantee of safety. But he was wrong. "When we realised he had disappeared, we had to pay $500 to an officer at the checkpoint just to find out in which prison they had taken him." Choosing his words carefully, Sheikh Ahmed outlines the workings of a well-functioning system of blackmail. "The judge sets a price on each detained prisoner according to the charge and to their knowledge of the prisoner's family's wealth.” Sheikh Ahmed was able to collect $5,000 from family and friends in Lebanon and send them to the judge in Damascus through a trusted contact. "Half of that money will go to the general in charge of the prison, the other to the judge. It's a way for the regime to reward its cronies," he explains.

Despite his age, Walid was held for a total of 50 days and tortured repeatedly, locked in small cell with a dozen other detainees. His family had to pay another $200 to be issued an official letter declaring his father was innocent of all charges. “How can we trust the regime to return if they even arrest an old man who has completed the vetting process and been guaranteed his safety by the Syrian security?” Sheikh Ahmed asks. His story is not unusual. The Syrian Network for Human Rights (SNHR), a monitoring group that records arbitrary detentions and disappearances across Syria, recently documented 1,916 cases of arrest of

Fearful that Syria’s No. 10 law could Syrian government prisons allow the Syrian regime to seize his are notorious for the property if he did not register his torture and abuse ownership, Sheikh Ahmed had hoped prisoners are subjected to. Hannah Kirmes-Daly. his father could register their family home in Homs. “It’s a miracle it survived the bombing. The government has taken everything from me, I didn’t want to lose my home as well.” Since reconquering much of the country, the Syrian regime has been passing new laws allowing authorities to confiscate property and make space for large multi-billion reconstruction projects, in the hope of attracting much needed foreign investment. Such projects have been planned in poorer Sunni neighbourhoods such as Bab Amr in Homs and Haidaria in Aleppo, districts that have been associated with the opposition, evidence that reconstruction and re-population is strategically meant to fragment communities that are hostile to the regime. “Syria is not a safe place for anyone to For every refugee outside return today, and this is beyond of Syria, there is another doubt,” Syrian lawyer Anwar al-Bunni Syrian who is internally explains from his office in central displaced inside of Syria. Hannah Kirmes-Daly. Berlin. Heading a center for legal studies on Syria, Mr al-Bunni has dedicated the last five years of his life to proving this statement - informing the German Interior and Foreign Ministries as well as judges of European courts about the risks and dangers facing Syrians who return. We meet him on the fifth anniversary of his arrival in Germany. He escaped Syria in 2014, after having spent four years in government prisons for his work defending Syrian activists. “War is not what Syrian refugees are scared of. It’s the impunity of the security forces that makes life in Syria impossible.” Al-Bunni is amongst the lawyers who worked on the Caesar Files, a series of documents holding nearly 55,000 photographs of forensic evidence of torture, starvation and deaths of detainees inside Syria’s government-run prisons. Smuggled to Europe by a former regime officer now code-named ‘Caesar,’ these documents provide the evidence that is being used in the prosecution and arrest of high- ranking regime officers currently in Europe disguised as refugees.

“We are working to tell the world exactly who the criminals are. Once incriminated, these people will not be able to sit at the negotiation table and decide on the future of Syria,” al- Bunni’s words resonate loudly in the room. “They will be caught one day, but until then, no-one can openly do business with these criminals now that there is a European arrest warrant against them.”

But with Syria’s reconstruction estimated at $400 billion, many actors are assessing Syria’s reconstruction as a business opportunity. Russia and Iran, the regime’s largest allies, remain A man cycles past temporary accommodation for Syrian refugees located in the Tempelhof district of Berlin, Germany. Sourced by the authors Unlike Lebanon, the European Union and most EU member states have so far maintained that without a political transition in place, no agreement concerning either refugee return or reconstruction will be allowed with the Syrian government. But considering the fast-pace of political change in Europe today, such positions might not hold for long.

“What is most worrying is how extreme-right wing rhetoric is making its way into mainstream politics,” says Christin Luettich, head of the German- Syrian initiative ‘.’ Far-right parties across Europe have made an unexpected bedfellow with Assad. Italy's far-right Forza Nuova and CasaPound, Greece's fascist Golden Dawn, the UK's British National Party (BNP), Poland's ultranationalist National Rebirth and Germany’s Alternative for Germany (AfD) have all been part of a push to normalise relations with Assad. Just a few weeks ago, the right-wing Identitarian Movement plastered Berlin with posters saying: ‘the war is over, Syria needs you,’ in an attempt to advocate for refugee return as well as the normalisation of Germany’s relations with the regime. Where these groups were once marginal actors, recent election turnouts have emboldened their stance. “We are experiencing a dramatic rise of xenophobic sentiment across Europe, and despite the fact that these far-right groups are an extreme minority and shouldn’t be given prominent space, the fear they trigger in migrant and refugee communities is real,” Luettich explains.

In a café close to Berlin’s multicultural neighbourhood of Neukoln we meet with Syrian youth, the first to be re- building a new life in Germany’s capital. “When I first arrived to Germany in 2014, I was living in a refugee accommodation in the Berlin district of Marzahn. You could not open the windows at night as Nazis would come and throw molotovs,” says Ahmad, a 25-year old social worker from Raqqa. In August 2018, the murder of a German national by a Syrian refugee in the city of Chemnitz sparked far-right marches and a series xenophobic attacks where vigilante groups ‘hunted’ people of colour.

“Maybe Germans are reconsidering our presence here, and we are being too complacent with it” says Yousef, a young engineer from Aleppo now living in Berlin. The 2015 decision by Chancellor Angela Merkel to open Germany’s borders to nearly 800.000 Syrian refugees has since then been A poster on the tube in Berlin advertising Germany’s voluntary return scheme. Hannah Kirmes-Daly Families for Freedom hold a demonstration outside the Russian embassy in Berlin, holding up the pictures of those who have been disappeared by the Syrian regime. David Suber A woman walks along Sonnenalle Street in Berlin. Hannah Kirmes-Daly In the last few years, most Syrian refugees registered in Germany were only granted temporary protection rather than full refugee status, a condition many see as evidence of Germany’s changing attitude towards refugees. “Many Syrians think that if you are fined on the U-Bahn you will be deported, that if you don’t qualify for a high German language level you will be deported, that if you don’t pay taxes you will be deported,” Ahmad tells us. “It’s our daily concern here, from the day we receive status, we are all worried of losing it.”

In 2017, the Federal Office for Migration and Refugees started including Syrians as possible beneficiaries of their return-migration programs, offering financial incentives to Syrians who voluntarily returned to Syria. Only 742 Syrians have returned through this scheme so far, each receiving a personal cash incentive of around 1200 euro. Forceful deportations to Syria are currently prohibited, as the Foreign Ministry has declared Syria unsafe for return. Nevertheless, politicians such as Bavaria’s Minister of Interior Joachim Herman have called to overturn the Foreign Ministry’s security assessment at the next forum for Germany’s Interior Ministers, set to take place at the close of 2019.

“Imagine if Germany told us we had to Abu Hajjar return to Syria tomorrow, saying this Night sets over Tel Abbas Camp in Akkar. Luca Cilloni

This production has received support from the EU-funded Migration Media Award. The information and views set out in this production are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official opinion of the European Union. Neither the European Union institutions and bodies nor any person acting on their behalf may be held responsible for the use which may be made of the information contained therein." Credits:

Research: Roshan De Stone; David L. Suber; Hannah Kirmes-Daly

Authors: Roshan De Stone & David L. Suber Audio recordings: Brush&Bow Radio Hakaya Illustrations: Hannah Kirmes-Daly Photography: Luca Cilloni Animation: Mia Aratimos Site: Ed Ive

Special Thanks: Tony Collins, Patrick Sfeir & the Mishwar crew for the recorded song, and to the many friends on the ground who made this work possible.

Recommended sources for further reference:

[1] ‘Building the case against Assad’s regime’, El Pais, 15 June 2018. [2] ‘Dangerous exit: Who controls how Syrians in Lebanon go home’, News Deeply, 8 August 2018. [3] ‘Lessons from Syria’s State return to the South’, International Crisis Group, 25 February 2019. [4] ‘Reconstructing Syria: Risks and Side Effects’, Adopt a Revolution, 5 April 2019. [5] ‘Syrian refugees unwanted in Germany, afraid to go home’, The Irish Times, 7 August 2019.