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'Hell is better than prison in Syria'
Former prisoners, families push for release of detainees
By Spencer Osberg
Special to The Daily Star
Friday, December 23, 2005
BEIRUT: "You longed for death, and you wished to be in hell, because it is better than to be in the prison in Syria," says Michel Sweidan, 38, who endured five years of limb-twisting torture and beatings at the hands of his Syrian captors. Sweidan says his last memory before his time in prison was of being a young, 23-year-old militiaman with the Lebanese Forces in 1993 eating at a restaurant in the Raouche neighborhood of Beirut. When he woke up he was in a Syrian prison.
"In Syria's prisons, you will not just see Christians or Lebanese Forces, you will see people from Amal, from Hizbullah, from Shoyoui (Communist party), Kawmiye (Syrian Social Nationalist Party), Kataeb (Phalange), from all of them, all of them Lebanese," he adds, noting the message from Syria to the different sects and militias was "all the Lebanese will be arrested if they do not do whatever we want."
Sweidan was part of a demonstration put on by former Lebanese detainees of Syrian prisons Thursday night at Martyrs' Square.
Sweidan and 121 other prisoners were released in 1998, and, for the most part, have had difficulty being accepted back into Lebanese society, are unable to find work, and receive no aid from the government.
"The Syrians [are] barbarians," he hisses. "They [taught] me how to hate, and I will never forgive them. I will hate them - hate them - until the end of my life."
Samira Zakharia has chained herself to hope for two decades that her son will be released.
"He was 26-years-old when he was kidnapped," she says, clutching a faded photograph of Iskandar, a smiling young man in a graduation gown and mortarboard cap. "Now he is 46. Imagine that, 20 years in a Syrian prison."
Zakharia was among some 30 demonstrators gathered outside the UN House in Downtown Beirut in the afternoon, calling for the international body to help free their sons, brothers and husbands from Syrian jails.
For Zakharia, the ordeal began in 1985 when three armed militiamen came to her house in West Beirut, forced open her front door and demanded to see her son.
"We want to ask him just three questions then we'll bring him back," she remembers them saying. "I told them, 'No, ask him here in the house.' He said, 'No, we want to take him.'"
They then threatened to take the whole family, so her son went. She later learned Iskandar was turned over to the Syrian Army.
As recently as three months ago, Zakharia says several former prisoners approached her after seeing a photo of her son.
"They said, 'We have seen him in the prison, in Mazze,' and then he was taken to Sidnaya," she says wearily. "The Syrian government says 'We don't have anybody here,' but they are liars."
Reports on the number of Lebanese remaining in Syrian prison vary widely, with former prisoners and families putting the number anywhere between 200 and 800.
Some say those still missing are already dead, but Zena Aoun refuses to give up hope.
Her brother, Elias Aoun, was with the Lebanese Army in Baabda on October 13, 1990, when he disappeared. A former prisoner who'd been held at the Tadmor prison in Syria came to her in 2000 to tell Aoun he had seen her brother.
Zena was among the many families that had camped outside the ESCWA building this year to pressure the UN for assistance. She says none was forthcoming. Asked if she thought these demonstrations would make a difference, she replied: "No. But I'm here because I need my brother back."
http://www.dailystar.com.lb/article.asp?edition_id=1&categ_id=1&article_id=20968
Former prisoners, families push for release of detainees
By Spencer Osberg
Special to The Daily Star
Friday, December 23, 2005
BEIRUT: "You longed for death, and you wished to be in hell, because it is better than to be in the prison in Syria," says Michel Sweidan, 38, who endured five years of limb-twisting torture and beatings at the hands of his Syrian captors. Sweidan says his last memory before his time in prison was of being a young, 23-year-old militiaman with the Lebanese Forces in 1993 eating at a restaurant in the Raouche neighborhood of Beirut. When he woke up he was in a Syrian prison.
"In Syria's prisons, you will not just see Christians or Lebanese Forces, you will see people from Amal, from Hizbullah, from Shoyoui (Communist party), Kawmiye (Syrian Social Nationalist Party), Kataeb (Phalange), from all of them, all of them Lebanese," he adds, noting the message from Syria to the different sects and militias was "all the Lebanese will be arrested if they do not do whatever we want."
Sweidan was part of a demonstration put on by former Lebanese detainees of Syrian prisons Thursday night at Martyrs' Square.
Sweidan and 121 other prisoners were released in 1998, and, for the most part, have had difficulty being accepted back into Lebanese society, are unable to find work, and receive no aid from the government.
"The Syrians [are] barbarians," he hisses. "They [taught] me how to hate, and I will never forgive them. I will hate them - hate them - until the end of my life."
Samira Zakharia has chained herself to hope for two decades that her son will be released.
"He was 26-years-old when he was kidnapped," she says, clutching a faded photograph of Iskandar, a smiling young man in a graduation gown and mortarboard cap. "Now he is 46. Imagine that, 20 years in a Syrian prison."
Zakharia was among some 30 demonstrators gathered outside the UN House in Downtown Beirut in the afternoon, calling for the international body to help free their sons, brothers and husbands from Syrian jails.
For Zakharia, the ordeal began in 1985 when three armed militiamen came to her house in West Beirut, forced open her front door and demanded to see her son.
"We want to ask him just three questions then we'll bring him back," she remembers them saying. "I told them, 'No, ask him here in the house.' He said, 'No, we want to take him.'"
They then threatened to take the whole family, so her son went. She later learned Iskandar was turned over to the Syrian Army.
As recently as three months ago, Zakharia says several former prisoners approached her after seeing a photo of her son.
"They said, 'We have seen him in the prison, in Mazze,' and then he was taken to Sidnaya," she says wearily. "The Syrian government says 'We don't have anybody here,' but they are liars."
Reports on the number of Lebanese remaining in Syrian prison vary widely, with former prisoners and families putting the number anywhere between 200 and 800.
Some say those still missing are already dead, but Zena Aoun refuses to give up hope.
Her brother, Elias Aoun, was with the Lebanese Army in Baabda on October 13, 1990, when he disappeared. A former prisoner who'd been held at the Tadmor prison in Syria came to her in 2000 to tell Aoun he had seen her brother.
Zena was among the many families that had camped outside the ESCWA building this year to pressure the UN for assistance. She says none was forthcoming. Asked if she thought these demonstrations would make a difference, she replied: "No. But I'm here because I need my brother back."
http://www.dailystar.com.lb/article.asp?edition_id=1&categ_id=1&article_id=20968
