Ezra Mannix

With the agreement to return Syrian refugees to Turkey, it’s worth remembering that despite what Amnesty international says about Turkey being unfit for refugees, Turkey has a number of educated refugees and displaced persons who are making their way in Turkey doing things like NGO work, translating, teaching English, and more. This post is profiling one such refugee (though he isn’t technically a refugee, it’s close enough), Eyad Abdulkader.

With his soft eyes and timid smile, Eyad is a thoughtful man, wise beyond his 28 years. Cut from an academician cloth, he came to Turkey to do a masters in classical Ottoman literature before the war.

In March, Eyad came to Istanbul from his home in Gaziantep, where he does part-time NGO work, for a short vacation. He agreed to let me interview him for ezramannix.com. We went to Sahtin (which means afiyet olsun in Arabic), the Syrian shawarma place in Aksaray where I interviewed Monte. (Eyad gave the Halep kebap three stars out of five).

In this first of a two-part interview, this Simpsons lover, reciter of hundreds of poems, skilled cook, heavy smoker, matte tea lover, bookworm, polyglot (he’s fluent in Ottoman Turkish) opened up to me and my wife Zeynep about his life: growing up under the Assads, the revolution, the war, living in Turkey, being away from his family, what he misses about pre-war Syria, and more.

Could you tell us a bit where you are from what you studied in your home country, and what you study now?

I’m from Aleppo, studied there at Aleppo University. I studied Turkish literature there and I am doing masters in classic Turkish/Ottoman literature now at Ataturk University in Erzurum. I am currently in the thesis stage.

Why Turkish literature?

Well, I was curious about literature. I could study either English literature or Turkish literature. It was a new thing for me so I chose Turkish literature.

Could you tell us about your childhood?

It was pretty normal and comfortable. I am the youngest child, the prince (laughs).

What did your parents do before the war?

My father was a civil servant and my mother a housewife. We are siblings, 2 boys and 2 girls. We were middle class, a little bit upper middle class maybe (laughs).

What did you think about the government growing up? I know Syrians don’t talk much about politics.

Yeah. My childhood was the period of “the father”. (Hafez Assad, the first Assad, father of the current Bashar Assad). We couldn’t talk about anything. My parents couldn’t talk about anything related to him. People had his picture everywhere, in books, in the streets.

Like Ataturk here?

Much more. The police and intelligence were everywhere. They could interfere with everything without a show of paper work. I was 13 years old when he died. I’m sorry to say I was happy.

There was some hope at that time, right? Bashar, the son, was educated in the west and people thought there would be some more freedoms, right?

Yes, people were hopeful, but there were some red flags in the beginning. For example, the Syrian constitution said you have to be 40 years old to be president, but he was 36, and in, like, 5 minutes they changed the constitution in the parliament.

That’s a bad sign.

However, he started to talk about his liberal opinions and liberal life. He started to talk to the opposition. They made a proposal. They called it the glasnost of Damascus. But after two days he arrested all of them, all the people who made the proposal, and Bashar said the president should be Muslim, male and from the Baath party. From that point on, we knew it would continue the same way.

In the Arab spring, what sort of role did you play?

Well, when the Arab spring started I was enrolled in my studies at Gaziantep University. I did a masters in Gaziantep, but I couldn’t continue. I was worried for Syria, because I couldn’t imagine it would arrive at this point, especially after Mubarak and Ben Ali left. I thought (the regime) in Syria wouldn’t last more than one month.

Then, there was kind of announcement on social media that there would be a big demonstration in Damascus, so on the 4^th of February In 2011, I was in Damascus waiting. The protestors couldn’t do anything. By coincidence I saw 5 or 6 of my friends. They were waiting for the demonstration to begin. I went to Damascus for one day. When I couldn’t do anything I came back to Aleppo, then Gaziantep.

Can you tell me about the Massacre of Homs?

It was a kind of strike. They gathered in Homs at Ramadan. There were religious people, they started to pray, then people who were atheists or not religious started to protect them.

Sort of like a brotherhood?

Yeah, but then the police started to open fire. Police killed around 300 people.

300?

Yes. Now, going back to this brotherhood, these demonstrations used to be on Fridays after prayer. A lot of Christian friends were waiting outside of the mosque to join them. I remember in the first Easter after the revolution, the regime started to think that these people who were demonstrating were radicals who would burn the church, so it was I and some of my friends who were worried the regime would do a provocation, so we went to the church and stood outside the church to check if anybody would come and do anything.

Did anyone attack the church?

 No.

So it was propaganda.

Yeah.

What do you think was the root cause of the police killing people?

 We have a concept in Syria Syria Al Assad, which means Assad’s Syria. They started to educate people based on one ideology: Assad is the leader; he will do everything for the country. They think of the whole country as Assad.

Hmm. One and the same.

We thought we needed Assad or no one would come. Why? I don’t know. It was Stockholm syndrome. Forty years of the “baba”, and 10 years of the son, it was not an easy experience for the Syrian people. Every 10 years we had this sort of thing, he bombed Hama in 1982 for 27 days. Now when you visit Hama you can see how the people are worried and sad, and see the buildings have bullets inside the buildings. They left it there to remind the people that we could do it anytime. The brother of Assad (Rifaat) had a favorite quote “I don’t want Hama on the map.”

That’s the worst. They are letting ISIS do the dirty work.

Yeah.

So the war breaks out during Ramadan, what did you do after the massacre of Homs?

I was in Turkey. I was watching it live. I didn’t think something like that would happen. I watched a live broadcast on YouTube.

What did you do?

I was traumatized. I couldn’t do anything. I called my parents. What could I do?

Is your family in Aleppo OK?

Yeah, my family in Aleppo is OK because my parents are really old, my brothers and sisters don’t have any activities related to the government, so I was relieved.

What are your brothers and sisters doing now?

My brother now is doing nothing. He was a guitar teacher. Now I am trying to bring him here, because he can’t do anything there. All of them are in Syria.

What’s the challenge of bringing them to Turkey?

A lot of challenges. My parents don’t want to come here. The second thing is the border is closed.

Did it used to be easier?

Yes. Now it’s harder.

The parents don’t want to leave?

Yeah. I mean, they love their country.

What’s daily life like for them now?

My parents are retired now. They roam around town or a few hours visiting my sisters and they come home.

What do your sisters do?

One is a housewife; the other is an nuclear engineer.

A nuclear engineer?

Yeah, she is working in a hospital. Her work is related more the biomedical engineering.

Do you have any friends or relatives who were killed?

A lot. Friends and relatives. Some died in shelling, some died in torture. For some, I hadn’t heard anything and suddenly I saw their picture on Facebook. It’s not easy.

I’ll never forget my friend Maher, his smiley face. He was older than me but had a childish face. He was a lawyer, he had 2 kids, he was active in civil society. He never held a gun, but one day he had been arrested in Aleppo and his body saw the light of the freedom in Damascus after several months.. I saw his name on Facebook among tens of name who died under torture.

Were you living in Aleppo at anytime during the war?

I used to visit Aleppo a lot during the war. I visited a lot. I stayed for six months during the war because there was a gap of teachers in the universities.

Ah, you were teaching for a while.

Yeah. The university stayed open. I was teaching there, but they asked me to report the students.

Really?

Yeah, but when I refused, it became a little dangerous for me.

What did you teach?

Three subjects: poetry, theatre and Turkic literature.

Could you explain this reporting students a bit more?

The head of the department asked me to report some students if they are against Assad or not, or if they are demonstrating or not. So I refused in some way that they wouldn’t put me in a dangerous position, but I couldn’t, so they started to threaten me and pressure me, so I said sorry, I can’t do it. After that, I left the regime area.

Was the head of the department also pro Assad, or was he receiving pressure from someone else?

She was clearly pro-Assad, and she reported a lot of professors at the university who were later killed.

This is like some Stalinist purge.

For sure. Now I think she is working in some place in Damascus related to the presidential issue. So I left the regime area immediately and I came to Turkey to start my life.

The strange thing is, she called me three times on my Turkish number and said ‘Eyad, we need you at the university, so come,’ and it was a kind of game. She was trying to pull me in to arrest me.

Wow. Why do you think that?

Because she is a… you know what. She was pro-Assad, from the Bath party, so…yeah. And nobody likes her, really.

I see. She didn’t get to were she was with her talents, she was a party person. So this was 2012 and you were only about 25.

Yes. They asked me because they said ‘you are the same age with the students more or less, so you can be like friends with them and ask them and figure out their opinions’.

Ha, the “buddy” teacher. So you came back to Turkey for studies. Did you resume your masters?

No. I started fresh because I changed my school and specialities. I was in modern, now I’m studying classical Turkish literature.

And then you started to learn Ottoman Turkish as a language?

Yeah. I go only once per month because my advisor is really cool with me. He used to be my teacher in Syria, a Turkish man.

What do you think about the war now?

I am of two minds about this. On the one hand, I want to follow every event inside Syria to know what’s going on, and the other side, as a student, a master’s student who deals with studying as well as my NGO work.

What’s your thesis on?

It’s on a poetry book written in Arabic by an Ottoman poet in the 15^th century in Damascus, so I am working on translating it to Turkish and adding commentary.

When was the last time you went to Syria and how often do you go?

Now I am going once per year.

That’s it?

Last time was four months ago.

How much time do you spend there per visit?

One week.

That’s it?

If I spend a lot of time with my family it will be harder to leave. I don’t want to live this, and I don’t want them to live this. To see them, I have to call them to come to the opposition area because I can’t go to the regime area. I have to cross the border. Plus, that lady (the former head of the university department) reported me. So there is some military intelligence.

Do you see your parents in their homes, or do you go somewhere else to visit with them?

We have a kind of country house. So they go there, it’s in the opposition area, so I go there.

Were there any dangerous situations moving around the country?

Yeah, it’s getting harder to move outside of Aleppo. The only people I used to see are my father, brother and mother. I haven’t seen my sisters or nieces for five years. One of my nieces is going to university next year.

What do you miss most about old Syria?

I miss my home (smiles). I miss the old streets and alleyways. I like to come to Istanbul because I can feel the same shape of the narrow alleyways. It’s like the old Aleppo. When I come to Istanbul, I explore the buildings. Aleppo used to have a lot of churches, here also. I go into the churches to feel that I am inside Aleppo.

End of PART ONE