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22 July 2010 By
Mohamad Bazzi
In June, a Syrian court
sentenced another lawyer, Muhannad al Hassani, to a
three-year prison term on charges of “weakening
national sentiment” and “conveying false news within
Syria that could debilitate the morale of the nation”.
Syrian officials also
brought new charges against Ali al Abdullah, a writer,
who recently completed a 30-month sentence for
attending a meeting in 2007 where political reforms
were urged. He is facing a new trial for an article he
wrote from his prison cell criticising the theocratic
system in Iran, a Syrian ally.
What does the government
of the Syrian president Bashar Assad have to fear from
these lawyers and pro-democracy activists? Not much.
Unfortunately, Mr Assad’s
regime has recently shown very little tolerance for
internal criticism. After years of isolation imposed
by the Bush administration and its Arab allies, the
Syrian regime is stronger than ever. In the past year,
Syria has launched a diplomatic charm offensive,
holding high-level meetings with European diplomats
and officials of the Obama administration. Barely a
week goes by without a foreign leader or envoy
visiting Mr Assad in Damascus.
In February, Mr Obama
nominated Robert Ford, a career diplomat who has
served in Algeria and Iraq, as the first US ambassador
to Syria since 2005. (Washington withdrew its last
ambassador after the assassination of the former
Lebanese prime minister Rafik Hariri, which the Bush
administration blamed on Syria.) In May, Republicans
in the US Senate blocked Mr Ford’s appointment, which
threatens to derail Mr Obama’s efforts to reach out to
Syria.
Despite these setbacks,
Mr Assad’s regime appears emboldened by the diplomatic
thaw, seeing it as an opportunity to crack down harder
instead of improving its human rights record. The
latest prosecutions are meant to send a message to
pro-democracy activists in Syria: keep quiet and don’t
deal with the West.
As a presidential
candidate, Mr Obama vowed to engage what the Bush
administration had called “rogue” regimes such as
Syria and Iran. While that outreach is essential, it
must not come at the expense of human rights.
Mr Maleh’s case is
especially troubling because he is old and frail, and
because he has been a critic of the Syrian regime for
decades (he was imprisoned for seven years in the
1980s). His supporters fear that he may not survive
another three years in prison.
Syria has a long history
of jailing dissidents, starting under Bashar’s father,
Hafez Assad, who seized power in a military coup in
1970. When Assad died in June 2000, his son succeeded
him. While many dismissed Bashar as incapable of
balancing his regional cards as masterfully as his
father, he has grown into the role of strongman.
After the younger Assad
became president, he promised change. There was a
short period of openness, known as the “Damascus
Spring”. The freedoms gained were small: modest
gatherings in people’s homes to discuss democracy and
reform; writings and speeches critical of corruption
and government failures (although never directly
critical of Mr Assad or his family); gatherings of
small civil-society groups. Most of these meagre
freedoms have been rolled back, however.
By 2005, the crackdown in
Syria accelerated to include activists, lawyers and
writers who had thought they were safe due to their
high profiles or connections to the West. But the US
and Europe did not or could not protect them.
In November 2005, Kamal
Labwani, a physician and leader of a pro-democracy
group, was arrested at Damascus Airport after
returning from Washington, where he had met with Bush
administration officials. He was sentenced to 12 years
in prison for “communicating with a foreign country
and inciting it to initiate aggression against Syria”.
His sentence, handed down in May 2007, is the harshest
imposed on a dissident since Mr Assad came to power.
Mr Labwani’s case was a warning signal to other
political activists.
Mr Maleh did not heed it.
I visited him several times during the crackdown and
he was always eager to discuss the regime’s
transgressions. He worked out of an office in a
rundown Ottoman-era building in downtown Damascus. His
greeting room was lined with flower-print couches,
fluorescent lights and a noisy ceiling fan. On one
wall hung a certificate presented to him in 2006 by
the Dutch foreign minister: the Geuzen Medal, named
after the 16th-century Dutch dissidents who fought
against Spanish domination. The Syrian regime would
not allow Mr Maleh to travel to the Netherlands to
receive the award in person. But he was so proud of
the prize that he handed out reproductions of the
certificate on a postcard bearing his motto: “Together
for Freedom and Legitimacy”.
Mr Maleh was
understandably dejected, but that did not keep him
from speaking his mind. “I don’t think we are ready
for a change. The opposition is weak, the regime is
strong and the regional situation is working in its
favour,” he told me in May 2007. “Any democratic
reform or progress that was made in the last few years
has been taken away. We’re now back at zero. Maybe
even less than zero.”
Today, Mr Maleh and other
dissidents sit in a Damascus prison. Their only hope
for freedom is international pressure on the Syrian
regime.
-- Mohamad Bazzi is
an adjunct senior fellow at the Council on Foreign
Relations in New York City and a journalism professor
at New York University |