LEILA FADEL, BYLINE: The road to Damascus, it tells the story of a new Syria emerging from 54 years of authoritarian rule by one family, the Assads. Today's Syria is no longer theirs.
(SOUNDBITE OF HORN HONKING)
FADEL: We start our journey at the border between Lebanon and Syria, where we find Hassan Sweileh on the Lebanese side. He holds prayer beads in his hand as he paces back and forth, back and forth.
HASSAN SWEILEH: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: He tells me, "my son is in prison in Syria. I want to go see if he's out, if he's not out. I don't know where he is." The 57-year-old Aleppo native cuts a regal figure, dressed in a blazer over a long brown tunic and traditional baggy pants. I ask him, will you stay in Syria?
(Non-English language spoken).
SWEILEH: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: He says, "no, I just want to go a few days to find him."
SWEILEH: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: His son was snatched off the road from Aleppo to Damascus 12 years ago by regime forces. He says he doesn't know why he was taken. All he knows is his son disappeared into Syria's feared prison system known for torture and executions. But going back is complicated. He tells me he'd lose his refugee status in Lebanon, where he fled the civil war and Assad's oppression alongside millions of other Syrians.
SWEILEH: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: He says, "if they take my papers, I lose the aid that comes with that refugee status. But I need to find out about my son. I'll just sleep on the streets."
(SOUNDBITE OF ENGINE RUMBLING)
FADEL: Nearby, we find two young women, 26-year-old Aseel and her 23-year-old sister, Aya. They're sitting on top of their suitcases with pink and purple roller bags in front of them decorated with Disney characters and Barbie.
What did you bring with you?
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #1: (Non-English language spoken).
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #2: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: "My books, clothes." (Non-English language spoken). Oh, Christmas is coming.
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #1: Yeah.
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #2: Christmas.
FADEL: They're engineering students, so they packed their books but also the things they'll need for Christmas.
When you heard that Assad was gone, what did you feel?
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #1: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: "We got so happy. There was oppression. But at the same time, we have questions. Where are we going? I'm afraid that there won't be respect for all of the sects, the minorities and religions in Syria. We don't know what kind of oppression there will be. We're Christian, but Muslims are feeling this, too." That fear of the unknown is why they only give their first names. The new authorities in Damascus are led by a rebel group called Hayʼat Tahrir al-Sham, or HTS, that was once linked to ISIS and al-Qaida before they broke ties. They've rebranded over the last few years. Today, they're saying the right things - that they will lead a peaceful transition of power, that Syrians of all creeds and ethnicities will be protected under their rule.
(SOUNDBITE OF TRAFFIC)
FADEL: But Aya and Aseel, they want to wait and see outside of Syria until they know it's safe. And it appears thousands of other Syrians are making the journey out as well. But the road to Syria from Lebanon, it's relatively empty.
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #3: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: (Non-English language spoken). He said, (non-English language spoken) - welcome. Hello. Come on in - just these young gunmen.
Pretty quickly, there are signs everywhere of a changed Syria - no passport control, abandoned military posts, military trucks and tanks. Instead, there are checkpoints armed mostly by young rebels from HTS.
It's kind of surreal. To go to - you know, I've come here before, and it's a state that listens and watches everything you do. And here we are just driving through every empty checkpoint.
Poster after poster of the now-former dictator of Syria, Bashar al-Assad, has been ripped down or defaced. We stop at the military airport outside of Damascus.
Right on the ground, you can see where people have shed the Syrian army uniforms. There's a top and bottom in camouflage. You see people's socks over here. And then on the other side of the road is a military vehicle that's been run into the median. And I'm not sure if it was shot at or just abandoned and left so people could walk away. It's kind of amazing. You can see how they just left. And then on the military airport wall is a huge picture of Bashar al-Assad. But now it's been crossed out in red, scribbled on, his eyes poked out, his mouth poked out.
One of the armed men at a nearby checkpoint walks over. Samer Muntashef hails from Idlib in northwest Syria, one of the poorest parts of the country that saw some of the worst bombings from the Assad regime.
SAMER MUNTASHEF: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: He welcomes us and then explains their mission for the day. They're searching cars to confiscate weapons from civilians.
MUNTASHEF: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: I'm jumping at the booms, and he keeps telling me, "don't worry. It's safe. It's safe."
As we speak, we hear booms and gunfire. He reassures me it's nothing to worry about. Some of it's celebratory. Some of it's their men shooting in the air when cars don't stop at checkpoints. There's smoke billowing in the distance from Israeli airstrikes in recent days on the military airport.
MUNTASHEF: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: (Non-English language spoken).
MUNTASHEF: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: Then he shows us what they've confiscated.
So we see grenades. We see bullets. People were looting the weapons from military bases, and they've been confiscating them.
There's also a bag filled with orange pills - Captagon, a drug the regime trafficked in to fund its civil war and its own survival. Then one of his colleagues, another rebel, chimes in.
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #4: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: "Tell the world we're not terrorists," he says.
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #4: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: "They think we're terrorists, but we're not. We're defending our land, our homes." All around us are scattered ID cards. They're military IDs with the faces and names of soldiers who served Assad's regime. What do you want to see happen to these men? - I ask him.
(Non-English language spoken).
UNIDENTIFIED PERSON #4: (Non-English language spoken).
FADEL: He says, "they need to go to court. They're criminals. They killed people, and they need to be held accountable." He wants rule of law. But already Syrians are sharing videos of apparent revenge killings of top Assad loyalists. In one, a mob hangs a man in a city dominated by Bashar al-Assad's own sect, a sign of how deep the anger toward the regime runs across religious lines.
(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED RECORDING)
UNIDENTIFIED CROWD: (Shouting in non-English language).
FADEL: In another - and we should warn you; you're about to hear the sound of gunfire - an unarmed man in uniform, also an Assad loyalist, is shot in the street.
(SOUNDBITE OF GUNFIRE)
FADEL: In Damascus, there is this eerie calm, almost like people are holding their breath. In a city where Syrians said the walls had ears, they're learning to speak freely. An era of oppression is gone. But Syrians wonder what will come to replace it.
STEVE INSKEEP, HOST:
So many sources have their take on the news, while our colleagues at NPR go to see and listen for ourselves. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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