ISPI - Istituto per gli Studi di Politica Internazionale

08/08/2024 | Press release | Distributed by Public on 08/08/2024 09:05

The Illusion of Safe Zones in Syria

More than a year has passed since Syria was readmitted to the Arab League in an effort to mend relations with Damascus and address the crises of drugs and refugees, yet Damascus has continued to weaponise both issues. Despite the disastrous outcome of engaging with the Assad regime, a few European countries remain determined to pursue a similar path.

In July, Italy appointed an Ambassador-Designate to Syria, 12 years after recalling all staff from its embassy in Damascus in 2012. This decision followed a series of visits by Italian and other European intelligence chiefs to Damascus to meet with Assad and discuss possible normalisation steps in exchange for the return of refugees.

Signs of this policy shift became clearer after a summit in Nicosia in June 2024, when seven European countries-Austria, Czechia, Cyprus, Greece, Italy, Malta, and Poland-appealed for a reassessment of the situation in Syria and for allowing the "voluntary return" of refugees. Shortly after, news of a Czech-led fact-finding mission to establish safe zones in Syria surfaced. Apparently, this bloc seeks to provide a so-called "realistic" alternative to the previous European consensus led by Germany and France, which insists on a meaningful political transition and the implementation of UN Security Council Resolution 2254 before any normalisation with Assad.

The new approach hinges on the premise that striking a deal with the Assad regime to create safe zones is a more pragmatic path for repatriating refugees than waiting for a political solution in Syria. This shift has been coupled with some developments on the ground. The regime is in fact pushing new reconciliation agreements in areas like Northern Rural Homs, poised to host returnees from Lebanon and allegedly serve as sites for these proposed European-led safe zones.

The quest for "safe environments" to house refugees has become a cornerstone in current migration management strategies. The Rwanda Asylum Plan stands out as a prime example, where the UK proposed deporting over 50,000 asylum seekers to Rwanda, deeming it as a safe country.

While the strategy for Syria differs in theory by aiming to repatriate citizens to their home country rather than a third one, it nevertheless relies on a similarly narrow understanding of what security means. The idea of identifying "safe areas" in Syria is not new, yet it has evolved over the last decade. For instance, in 2019, Denmark designated several governorates in the country (Latakia, Tartous, Damascus, and Rural Damascus) as safe for return, a move then used to justify the revocation of the residency permits of dozens of refugees originating from these provinces. The recent Czech-led plan takes even a more active stance, aiming to establish these safe zones in coordination with the Syrian regime rather than merely identifying them.

But to understand whether the idea of establishing safe zones in Syria is feasible, we must ask three questions: Why aren't Syrians returning home despite the country being framed as "safe"? Are there any previous experiences in creating safe zones in Syria for humanitarian purposes? And what do Syrians need to safely return?

Why are Syrians not coming home?

Since 2019, the number of returnees to Syria has plummeted from 95,000 in 2019, to 51,000 in 2022 and 38,257 in 2023. Considering that a considerable percentage of these return cases were likely not voluntary, with reports of forced deportations from Lebanon and Turkey, this decline contradicts the narrative that Syria is now safer. Security concerns and the absence of basic services and livelihood opportunities are often cited as the main reasons refugees hesitate to return.

As a matter of fact, returnees have found little safety upon their return. Numerous human rights organisations reported significant violations. For instance, between 2014 and 2024, the Syrian Network for Human Rights documented 4,714 cases of returnees arrested by the regime, including 31 cases of people killed under torture in prison and 93 cases of sexual harassment. These violations are the reason why many returnees who were sent to regime-held territories are paying smugglers to escape toward Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF)-held areas in the northeast or opposition-controlled areas in the northwest. In this context, it is not surprising that less than 2% of the Syrian refugees across the Middle East expressed their willingness to return to Syria over the following year, while 55% stated they would never want to return.

Syria also lacks the legal and economic infrastructure needed for refugees to rebuild their lives. To return, Syrian refugees have to apply for "settlement of status" which is a security clearance that allows them to resume their lives within regime areas. Upon returning, they are often subject to interrogation or forced disappearance by intelligence forces, while facing significant challenges in obtaining the permits needed to rehabilitate their properties or access basic services. Decisions on granting these documents are heavily influenced or overridden by local security branches and checkpoints, which frequently demand bribes for the passage of individuals and commercial goods.

The dynamics of return and property rehabilitation are not governed by a centralised legal framework but are instead dictated by the varying practices of local security branches and municipal councils. On top of that, the properties of thousands of refugees in depopulated areas have been ravaged and looted by pro-regime militias, bulldozed by regime municipalities, or confiscated by the Anti-Terrorism Court, permanently diminishing refugees' hopes of returning to their original homes. There is little evidence that creating 'safe zones' within regime-controlled areas would address any of these issues.

The myth of safe islands in an ocean of violence

To assess the feasibility of the idea of safe zones, our understanding of "safety" must go beyond the mere absence of immediate threats, even though that clearly remains a crucial factor. Even if security forces refrain from directly targeting or arresting returnees, they can still impose various restrictions on the movement of people, humanitarian assistance, and commercial goods. Local security forces and warlords significantly monopolise the supply of such goods, with even the regime itself having limited capacity to influence their behaviour on the local level. Regime-controlled areas also suffer a severe shortage of basic services such as electricity, water, and healthcare.

After a decade of war and destruction, Damascus has in fact limited resources and is unlikely to be willing to allocate them to areas populated by people it openly labels as suspected terrorists. Further, the regime has a long history of mismanaging public resources and diverting humanitarian and development aid, ranging from directly co-opting humanitarian assistance and reconstruction and development funding to influencing the process of selecting beneficiaries, locations, and implementing partners.

Previous experiences are crucial to examine here. One example is the Rukban Camp, established in 2015 in an inhospitable area within the so-called "deconfliction zone" near the Tanf area, along the Jordan-Syria border. The camp was created to host thousands of displaced people fleeing battles in rural Homs. For long, despite the worsening humanitarian conditions, residents of Rukban refused to leave, fearing arrest and torture by the regime. Although theoretically "safe", the camp has been subjected to a harsh siege by the regime since 2018, blocking UN convoys and cracking down on smuggling routes that provided food and medicine. This siege led to a humanitarian catastrophe, eventually forcing many to return to regime-controlled areas where numerous returnees were arrested and disappeared.

Similar incidents occurred in Daraa and Homs, which entered Russian-sponsored truce agreements with the regime in 2018. These agreements allowed the regime to gain control after forcibly displacing those who refused to "reconcile". Despite Russian guarantees and the regime's promises, these areas have faced various forms of collective punishment, including limited services, restriction to residents' movement, and discrimination in employment and access to humanitarian aid. Six years later, these regions remain highly unstable, plagued by ongoing security incidents such as assassinations, clashes, and kidnappings for ransom. This instability has forced hundreds of residents to migrate through Lebanon and Libya towards Europe.

In sum, the case of Rukban tells us that establishing a 'safe area' does not necessarily mean creating a hospitable one. Preventing security forces from raiding an area is insufficient; there must also be full and unconditional access to humanitarian aid and basic necessities. Moreover, the case of the reconciliation areas demonstrates that even without direct military or security control, the regime can still destabilise, extort, and deprive the population, directly or indirectly.

Establishing safe zones or creating a safe return process?

Addressing the root causes of displacement, namely political repression, destruction and economic deterioration, will certainly remain the only way to achieve a large-scale voluntary return. While countries affected by the migration crisis are eager for quick solutions, they are still obligated under international law to ensure a safe, voluntary, and dignified return process. Negotiating a return process with the Syrian regime should not prioritise the establishment of "safe zones" within Syria, where people may be sent away from their hometowns and remain vulnerable to regime violations and extortion. Rather, refugees should be granted the unconditional right to return to their hometowns, free from fears of legal and political repercussions. They also need financial support to rebuild their homes and access to humanitarian aid and early recovery funds to sustain their livelihoods. Rushing to send refugees back to areas controlled by a repressive regime-that current residents still risk their lives to leave-will likely backfire.

Before implementing the safe zones plan, certain steps could be taken to assess the Syrian regime's commitment to facilitating return and evaluating the effectiveness of existing economic and legal frameworks. Prioritising the return of internally displaced people (IDPs) who were displaced and remain within regime-controlled areas is crucial. This group faces relatively less security risk but still encounters significant difficulties due to restrictions imposed by the regime and the demolition and confiscation of properties that took place over the years.

Assisting IDPs to return, rehabilitating their properties, and re-establishing their businesses can help revitalise depopulated areas, revive pre-conflict communities, and lay the groundwork for early recovery projects. Most refugees come from areas that were highly devastated by the conflict. Developing a recovery strategy that includes micro funds directed entirely toward the returnees themselves will be a more effective way to encourage IDPs (and later refugees) to return to their hometowns and feel economically secure, while also evaluating the security threats and legal hurdles associated with their return. This approach can also protect these areas from demolition, neoliberal urban development policies, and socio-economic engineering plans the regime might try to implement.

Failing to address the refugee crisis effectively will have far-reaching consequences. This will not only impact the returnees themselves but also those remaining in Europe who will be forced to live in the shadow and informality. Many vulnerable refugees will have little choice but to embark on new deadly migration journeys or even attempt suicide to avoid being sent back to Syria, where they might be arrested, tortured, and starved again by the same regime that displaced them in the first place.