“He was still a child”: pain and fear at Latakia Hospital

At the National Hospital of Coastal Latakia, a coastal city in the heart of the Alawite minority, the careful presence of the new authorities in Syria is constant.

Visibly agitated, Syrians Alawite arrive to identify the bodies of their loved ones, killed in the last wave and fatal of violence in the country since the overthrow of Bashar al-Assad.

Which began as an attack on the Security Forces by Assad Loyalists – many of the Alawite sect of the former president – quickly made a spiral in revenge attacks, leaving hundreds of dead and thousands of displaced people.

The civilians belonging to the Alawite community were particularly targeted.

The medical staff says that the security forces, some unidentified, have been posted at the hospital starting March 6, when violence has erupted and have remained there.

Fear on faces

On the morning of March 11, the day after the Government ended their military operation, the families affected by terror rushed to hospitals on the western coast of Syria to find their loved ones.

At the National Hospital, a man came to the morgue to claim his neighbor’s body, one of the two brothers who were killed on March 7.

When asked about the perpetrators, he took a look at an armed man wearing a mask that hides half the front, closely following the conversation.

With a fiery voice, he replied: “Possible thieves, I really do not know.”

Meanwhile, a mother from there to identify her killed son is cut by her husband: “Do not share any information; He could endanger us. “

Another mother, Rim, stayed near her neighbor – both there to recover her son’s body.

The emergency in the mother’s eyes was tangible, but it remained silent. Her neighbor, referring to the deceased as “our son”, said she was killed two days earlier than “armed men”.

Another member of armed security was just one meter away. The fear on the faces of the little Alwi present was clear. Taking a distraction moment, Rim discreetly shared the phone number.

“He never held a weapon”

On the phone, Rim, whose name was changed for her protection, spoke with fervor, shock full of shock while transmitting the details of her story.

Before leaving to spend the evening with her friends, her son – a 19 -year -old engineer student – asked her mother not to call.

“When they led me there, the bodies covered the floor. But I was lucky. My son was in a fridge ‘

– Rim, Alawite Civilian

Concerned about the confrontations that broke out on the coast that morning, she called it the next day: “Ahmed?” she asked eagerly.

Instead of the voice of her son, she heard a stranger identifying as a general security.

“Your son was killed. He is here with a bullet in his head. He was a loyalist of the regime,” the man said.

In the hope of a mistake, Rim pleaded: “He didn’t even serve in the army. Can you describe his clothes?”

“He is dressed in black pants and in a black jacket,” the man said.

That morning, at the morgue, Rim found her son.

“When they led me there, the bodies covered the floor. But I was lucky. My son was in a refrigerator, “she said.

“My son is tall, fat and bearded, showing older than his age,” she added, believing he could have mistaken for a “military” for this reason.

“He never held a weapon. He was still a child. “

Syrian authorities told Rim that he had two days to ask for her son’s body.

“I never imagined that I would have to do this,” she said. Citing reprisal fears, she decided not to keep a funeral.

Quiet minorities

The pressure increased on the Syria government, led by the interim president Ahmed al-Sharaa, to investigate the killing of at least 1,500 civilians, including women, children and whole families.

The Syrian network for human rights said that at least 803 extrajudicial killings were committed by all parties involved in confrontations, including Assad loyal forces, vaguely affiliated groups with the Syrian government and individual armists.

Secting violence in villages with great Alawite communities was the biggest challenge for Sharaa since coming to power after Assad’s overthrow in December.

Aron Lund, an analyst at Century International, said that violence showed the fragility of the new power, supported by “hostile to Alawis”.

The rhetoric of the interim president was aimed at the tranquility of minorities and the pleading of the appearance, even though this approach is not “uniformly adopted by all the factions under his command,” said the Middle East.

At the National Hospital in Latakia, the discomfort of the authorities was palpable.

An administrative official repeatedly stated in a mechanical tone: “I am not allowed to give interviews. No statistics will be launched until we have official permission. “

“The hospital became their basis”

Speaking from a car parked along the deserted coast on a sunny day, a young, terrified doctor, spoke about her ordeal since violence broke out.

Like 50 other staff members, she did not leave the hospital during confrontations, sleeping in the hospital for fear for her safety.

She told seeing a patient, who had come to the hospital for a scan, being beaten in front of March 7, accused of being loyal to Assad.

“They hit him in his chest and face, and I was just a meter away.”

The doctor does not know what became a man.

Since the fall of Assad, the atmosphere of distrust of inter -community – fueled with 14 years of civil war and perpetuated by the Assad family – has reached unprecedented levels.

The doctor criticized the interference of the Syrian forces in the hospital operations.

“Armed and interrogated patients come in:” Where are you from? How did you support these wounds? “She said.

Her statements were supported by several colleagues who talked to Mee.

A thirty -year -old doctor said, “The hospital has become their basis. They come and go armed, and we cannot determine their affiliates.”

“How can we feel safe?”

The security forces of the new government now include several factions, including the Hay’at Tahrir Al-Sham, which led the offensive that brought Assad.

“It was worse in Assad’s era.” Shabiha ” – the executors of the regime – would enter the hospital and do whatever they liked, showing no attention to doctors,” noted another doctor.

“Every time I go home at the hospital, I see the fear in my mother’s eyes that it could be the last time he sees me.”

– Doctor, National Hospital

An audio message of an administrative health official in Latakia received on March 11 said: “The situation has returned to normal. Now we follow the absences. It is a safe country, a god.” A tracking message emphasized: “The roads are clear, there are no excuses.”

The hospital, staff predominantly by Alawites, saw the appointment of a vice president called by the new authorities, Dr. Moataz Fadliye, a month earlier.

Standing in his office, where the new three -star Syrian flag hung on the wall, he seemed hesitant to discuss recent events, mentioning only “hundreds of injured here in the first two days: soldiers, general security and members of the Syrian army” – without mentioning civil victims.

On March 9, Sharaa announced the creation of an “independent” commission for investigate The recent fairs in the coastal region, including what led to the outbreak, abuses against civilians and attacks on institutions.

However, this did little to calm the Alawite community.

The doctor, speaking from her car, acknowledged: “I don’t trust him.”

“Every time I go home to the hospital I see the fear of my mother’s eyes that it might be the last time I see me. How can we feel safe in this country after it happened?” Another doctor said.