A Hope More Powerful Than the Sea

By February 2011, the Syrian people have seen people across the Middle East rise up and overturn oppressive regimes. The uprising in Tunisia has “made it seem to ordinary Syrians that anything is possible” (15). After Tunisia came Egypt, Libya, and Yemen. Now 16 years old, Doaa watches the reports of the fall of the regime in Egypt with her sisters. Syrians cheer the victory as if it were their own. Even in Daraa, traditionally a reliable support base for the Assad regime, there are whispers of an uprising, even though all previous attempts have failed tragically.

Protest graffiti begins to appear. Officers arrest the boys who painted the slogans—some of whom are known to Doaa and her family—and take them to the detention centers run by the feared intelligence services. By the next months, protests have spread through the once-quiet streets of Daraa. They join wider peaceful protests springing up across the country. Doaa watches the protesters from her house, intrigued and excited by their energy. The police break apart the protests with tear gas and water cannons. As people scream and run away, Doaa flees back into her house. But the protests do not stop. The police open fire on a group of demonstrators and kill four people.

The deaths make the international news. The United Nations condemns the violence against the protestors. The Syrian government blames the protestors for the eruption of violence. The boys arrested for graffiti get released, but signs of torture are unmistakable: “wounds left by electric cables that the guards had used as whips” (18), missing fingernails, and cigarette burns on their faces. This only incites further rage among the protestors. The government tries to reason with the protestors but fails, eventually accusing them of trying to overthrow the state. The government blames outside agitators and sends the security forces into the cities.

On Mother’s Day, “Doaa’s world [is] changed forever” (18). Breaking with family tradition, Hanaa insists that they stay home that day. But Doaa insists. She loves the annual family gathering. Hanaa relents and takes her children to the big family house; she tries to flag a taxi, thinking it the safest option. But the only taxi that stops insists on an incredible fee, saying that it is a risk fee. Hanaa has no choice but to pay. The nervous driver tries to avoid the military roadblocks. They pass a burning police station and smoke covers the car. Protestors appear from nowhere, throwing missiles at the fleeing policemen. The driver demands that they leave his taxi, telling the family to “keep close to the walls or they will shoot you” (19). Hanaa leads her children through the chaos as Doaa feels guilty. It was her insistence that had forced the family to leave the house. They run, bullets flying through the air around them. Fleeing through the streets, they stop, hide, crawl, and keep close to the walls. After an hour, they arrive at the family house. As the family huddles together in the back of the building, as far away from the violence as possible, Doaa runs to the rooftop terrace, determined to see everything.

Doaa watches as the protestors and the security forces clash. She sees policemen gun down protestors. The tear gas chokes her, burning her eyes. On seeing the dead protestors, she realizes that “everything she’d grown up believing about her country was wrong” (21). They try to spend the day as normal but, when walking home, see bloodstains on the pavement. After this day, the protests only grow in size and scale. Soon, they begin to demand a regime change. More and more soldiers arrive as the death toll rises. Doaa feels an urge to join the protests. With friends and family, she attends demonstrations. She attends meetings, social events where young people share their hopes for the future. She invents slogans to shout and makes revolution-themed jewelry for protestors to wear. Hanaa, worried for her daughter’s safety, would beg Doaa to be careful. But Doaa refuses to do nothing. Deep down, her mother is proud of her daughter’s courage. Doaa loses her shyness and fear of change. Shokri, too, can do nothing to stop his determined daughter. Soon, protests are a part of life in the neighborhood. In parliament, Assad attempts to downplay the deaths as isolated incidents. He blames Israel, terrorists, and the international television channels. He decries footage of dead protestors as fake news. The parliament applauds. Doaa realizes that her country is being torn apart.

The protests continue for months. Assad’s attempts to institute changes are no longer enough; the protestors demand that he leave office. They quickly realize that Assad’s changes are discrete attempts to fortify his position, changing the laws under the pretext of fighting “terrorism.” On a day known as Great Friday, protests in 20 cities become violent. Doaa protests in Daraa. At one chaotic demonstration, she hides a loudspeaker and a drum under her long clothes and runs home. Forced to hide in an abandoned building, she’s spotted when she finally breaks cover. Chased through the streets, she hammers on an unknown door and begs for sanctuary. A woman rushes her inside and Doaa stays there until dark. She sneaks home and tells her worried family what happened. Shokri, furious and terrified, forbids her from attending any more protests. Reluctantly, Doaa agrees, even though “her heart remained with the revolution” (27). 

While hanging laundry on the morning of 25 April 2011, Doaa hears the distant rumble of tanks. She spots them heading toward her street, accompanied by an entire army. With her parents out of the house, Doaa gathers her siblings, nephews, and nieces inside and tries to phone her mother. She dials again and again with no answer. Hanaa arrives home later, Shokri even later still. At night, the government cuts off the electricity and the water to the houses. As the soldiers settle in for a long stay, the family listens for news on a battery-powered radio: They learn that Daraa is now under siege, the army sent in “to root out the terrorists who are trying to destroy the city” (30).

Early in the morning, Doaa awakes and hears gunfire in the street. Outside, soldiers are smashing down doors and dragging people from their homes. They round up and march away men and boys accused of being terrorists. Locked up in their home, the family must ration what little food and water they have. When the candles run out, they stay up at night from the sound of gunfire and screaming. A week passes; their only contact with the outside world is when soldiers kick in their door as often as three times a day. The soldiers threaten the young girls and ransack the house. For all her fear of capture, Doaa cannot help but feel rage at the way the soldiers treat her family. Nighttime raids become common; Shokri encourages his daughters to sleep fully clothed and with a knife, worried that soldiers might abduct or rape them. Doaa and her sisters form a pact: If any soldiers try to rape one of them, they must be prepared to kill.

During one raid, Doaa can no longer remain silent. She talks defiantly to a solider, who points a gun in her face. When he finally relents and leaves, Hanaa accuses Doaa of putting the entire family in danger. Doaa, too shaken by the encounter, doesn’t defend herself. On the 11th day, when the food finally runs out, the city receives a curfew. Women can leave at set hours to shop for food but must agree to a search. Shokri is incredulous and furious. But they have no choice but to accept. Hanaa ventures out and sees soldiers eating large meals while the citizens starve. Eventually, she returns with six loaves of bread, assisted by a seemingly helpful soldier. As the siege wears on, a number of soldiers seem friendlier than the others. They help the family when they can. One day, a man knocks desperately at the door. He has a gun and a kaffiyeh (a checkered scarf) tied around his face. Begging for help, he claims to be with the Free Syrian Army, a group of demonstrators who have banded together into an armed opposition. Doaa ushers him inside and comes up with a plan: They disguise him as a piece of furniture. Inevitably, soldiers arrive to search their house. They find nothing and leave; the rebel thanks the family and escapes, and Doaa feels “a sense of triumph and satisfaction” (35).

The government eventually announces that the siege is over. But by this time, the world has taken notice. Hundreds have died, thousands arrested or missing. World leaders demand that Syria receive sanctions if they continue to kill protestors. Bodies rot in the streets, schools remain shut, and soldiers destroy buildings. Shokri has to return to work, desperate to make money. Every day, his family worries for him. His barbershop is in a bad neighborhood and battles unfold between the government and the opposition every day. Clients are scared to come to him.

Doaa sees the bullet casings in the street and wishes that she could do more. The bombing begins; the family watches artillery shells fall on the city each night. They cheer when they see the rebels fighting back. One day, while out buying bread with her sisters, a battle ensues. They return home, pale, shaking, and without food. An hour later, a friendly soldier brings them a bag with bread and tomatoes. Doaa joins in protests from her rooftops, shouting down slogans. A soldier notices and shoots at her. The bullet just misses and Doaa feels invigorated. As the weeks turn into months, the family does what it can to get by. In June 2012, missiles destroy Shokri’s barbershop. The loss sends him into a great depression. Doaa’s brother-in-law loses his own business to a bomb, so flees to Lebanon and sends for his wife and child shortly after. People begin to flee Daraa as the city becomes “a lottery of life and death” (39). The children bicker, argue, rarely sleep, rarely eat, and cling to one another for support.

The stress causes Doaa to develop a terrible sty on her eye. Hanaa leads her across the battleground but they cannot afford the medical treatment. The doctor lances the sty for free. With Doaa feeling the effects of the anesthetic, they struggle to return home. They go to Hanaa’s sister Iman’s home but men accost them along the way who become angered when the women ignore them. Hanaa and Doaa run, just making it to Iman’s door in time. The men leave, but Iman reveals that the men are kidnapping people and torturing them. That night, Hanaa and Doaa sneak home after the curfew. They need to fill Doaa’s antibiotics prescription. As they pass through the streets, they see fresh bodies and blood. While hiding in the shadows, they see a group of men throw a body in a dumpster. Eventually, they arrive home. That night, Hanaa and Shokri decide that it is time to leave Syria. He phones his son-in-law and asks for help.