First accounts of what happened inside Syrian cities

No checkpoint is the same, some want paperwork, others wave you through after a brief look inside – but from Damascus to Latakia, there are a lot of checkpoints, and in one way or another, you are checked every time.

It wasn’t like this just a month or two ago, but it is now after the most violent few days the country has seen since Bashar al Assad was forced from power in December last year.

We drove through cities like Jableh, on Syria’s Mediterranean coast, almost unrecognisable now.

The bustling streets, markets and shops are silent, apart from the sirens of passing General Security convoys – their armed soldiers packed on the back of pick-up trucks.

The debris of battle is everywhere, buildings are burnt out and peppered with bullet holes, glass from smashed shopfront windows spills across the pavement and spent machine gun casings litter the streets.

After three months of relatively peaceful times, things have dramatically changed here, all because of the events of 6, 7 and 8 March.

A Thursday, Friday, and Saturday that could determine Syria’s future.

Driving out of Jableh and over a bridge, we pass through another checkpoint, then through a deserted village, home to a community of Syrian Alawites. Shops and homes are destroyed, soldiers guard the roads in and out.

We are on our way to the Hmeimim air base, home to the Russian military in Syria.

It’s also now home to as many as 10,000 Alawites who are now camping in and around the base.

Shaken by bloody violence

They are seeking shelter and protection, watched on by Russian soldiers who remain inside.

Some of the thousands are in tents or under makeshift cover, others are sleeping rough or in their cars.

I first visited the airbase last December – then it consisted of a small cluster of shops and restaurants, established over years to service the Russian personnel.

Now the shops are shuttered and the restaurants cleared of tables to allow the families to sleep.

As I approached the gates of the base, I was surrounded by people pushing against each other, trying to get to me to tell me stories of being burnt out of their houses, or of family members killed in front of their eyes.

A young woman pulled me aside. “We need help, international help,” she whispered.

“We need international peacekeepers; my house was on fire.”

In the crowd, I met Adiba Shehaidi. She’s sleeping rough outside the base after escaping her village, Ain al Arous.

“They attacked us, just like that, slaughtered us, our friends, our neighbours, our children, our relatives – our in-laws, all of them, were slaughtered. They stormed the houses, shooting…” she recounted her story of escape.

“What can we say? To the world, what can we say? What was our crime?” she cried.

We were told that whole families had been killed with some buried in mass graves.

Not far away from the base, in the village of Al Sanobar – we found one. A mass grave consisting of two trenches, dug under the cover of darkness by villagers. They buried 80 people here.

Sticks had been placed in the earth to signal a body buried beneath. We are told a family of 17 are in one of the graves.

Further into the village, we came across a group of men digging more graves. They told us they had found the bodies of their families, friends, and neighbours littered on the streets and in houses.

So far, they have buried 223 people, all from this one village.

On trucks, the bodies wrapped in blankets and plastic were brought to their final resting place near their homes. Under a blistering sun a simple ceremony is held, then side by side they are buried.

These families have been devastated – their anguish obvious.

Convoys of government security forces are now constantly patrolling all the areas where the killings took place, and they are trying to encourage the Alawites to return to their villages, saying it is now safe.

The head of General Security, Mustafa Kunefate, told me what happened here was unacceptable and must not happen again.

He explained how Assad loyalists had attacked and killed soldiers, police officers, and civilians – filming it and posting it on social media. This, he said, led to “undisciplined groups” arriving to this part of Syria, acting “outside of the Ministry of Defence’s command”.

“Among these groups were some with a questionable intent, many arrived with no clear instructions, simply coming to break the siege on the Ministry of Defence personnel and police,” Mr Kunefate told me.

“This resulted in chaos and a breakdown of discipline among the fighting groups that entered the coastal region.”

The scene of some of the worst fighting happened in the city of Jableh when the pro-Assad militia attacked. Much of the centre of town has been badly damaged in the fighting, and it is tense.

Sunni civilians in the city of Jableh were also murdered

General Security convoys constantly patrol the city, home to Sunni civilians who were murdered like their Alawite neighbours.

Imad Bitar’s father Talal died after his car was fired upon by Assad fighters.

I met him in their family home where he told me he wants peace but believes it will only happen when Assad’s fighters are captured.

“We must find a way to live together, our only demand now is for the remaining factions to leave Syria and for those responsible for the regime’s crimes to face a formal trial. It’s not about sectarian divisions, it’s about justice.”

This has been a difficult time for the new government trying to unite Syria.

The massacres of Alawites at the hands of militia puts President Ahmed al Sharaa’s unity project in jeopardy.

But if there is a positive from that dreadful weekend, it is that the government acknowledges the mistakes and is promising to bring those responsible to justice.