Thousands of Lebanese and Syrians flee into war-torn Syria
September 28, 2024After the first Israeli attack on the southern suburbs of Beirut about a month ago, Mansour Omar thought he should try and find somewhere else to stay.
"I've been worried ever since that attack because I was living close to where the first raids took place," says Omar, a Syrian refugee who's been living in the Lebanese capital for nine years, after he was driven out of his home by civil war. "This week, after the attacks started, I searched in the suburbs."
But the rents being asked were "terrifying," he says. "It's exploitation." So his family didn't move.
Then this week, Israel conducted a wave of air raids on neighboring Lebanon, saying they were preempting attacks by the military wing of the Lebanon-based Hezbollah group. The Israeli raids have killed over 700 people, including women and children, in under five days and displaced around half a million in Lebanon.
That's why Omar left his job and moved with his family to a more remote village in Lebanon. "Whoever is able to, has sent his family back to Syria," the 32-year-old Syrian told DW. "But I cannot cross into Syria. The regime will kill me if I do."
Even though Omar didn't fight against Syrian government forces during the civil war there, he participated in anti-government demonstrations. As it is, anybody who fled the country during the war is viewed with suspicion, seen as a traitor to the Syrian regime headed by dictator Bashar Assad. This is why Syrian men who return may be detained, tortured, forcibly conscripted into the Syrian army, or killed, say human rights organisations, who regularly document such cases.
That has not stopped others from seeking shelter in Syria. By Thursday this week, Lebanese authorities say they had counted 15,600 Syrian citizens and 16,130 Lebanese citizens crossing into Syria.
Who's fleeing to Syria?
It's been comparatively easy for Lebanese citizens to enter Syria.
The borders between Lebanon and Syria have always been porous and politics and economics in the two countries are intertwined. Travel is visa-free for Lebanese and many have family in Syria as do Syrians, in Lebanon.
As one Lebanese man told news agency AFP this week, he didn't really want to return to Syria but when family there invited him to stay during the Israeli bombing, he saw no other choice.
A woman from southern Lebanon at the border told Associated Press reporters that she was traveling with her brother's Syrian wife and they both planned to stay with in-laws.
Earlier in September, the Associated Press also reported that some Lebanese previously prepared for just such an emergency. Rents in Syria are much cheaper than in many parts of Lebanon so, after Israel bombed southern Beirut, "for a small number [of Lebanese], plan B is a move to neighboring Syria," the news agency wrote.
Al Modon, a Lebanon-based media outlet thought to be Qatari-owned, that is often critical of Hezbollah, also noted that many of the families fleeing from Hezbollah-controlled areas in Lebanon were heading to Hezbollah-controlled areas around Homs in Syria.
"Reports suggest the houses they are occupying were previously abandoned by Syrian families linked to Hezbollah and the Syrian regime," Al Modon reported.
This wouldn't be surprising. During the Syrian civil war, the armed wing of Hezbollah supported Syria's Assad government against local revolutionaries. The militia has been accused of committing war crimes. That is why Syrians who took part in their country's anti-government revolution have a complicated relationship with the Lebanese fighters.
'Sleeping on the streets'
It's much more difficult for Syrians to get back into Syria.
Lebanese woman Samia Talhouk saw some of this. She told DW she and her family chose to head for the Syrian border because they were unable to rent a place in Beirut. They decided to find a rental in Damascus instead even though Talhouk, who is in her 40s, says she hopes they won't have to stay long.
"There was severe congestion yesterday but today is better," she told DW on Friday morning. "But the border guards were treating the Syrians badly. This is discrimination," Talhouk complained. "After all, they are all from the same country."
Unlike Lebanese, Syrians at the border are forced to change $100 into Syrian pounds at government rates. Some Syrians consider this a "fee" that allows the foreign-currency-poor and heavily sanctioned Syrian government to make money off the crisis.
For Syrians stuck in Lebanon, unable to return to their own country, things may be even worse.
"The situation is particularly tragic for Syrians displaced from the south to Beirut, especially those who are unable to go to Syria," Omar told DW.
It's estimated that there are somewhere between 1.5 and 2 million Syrians living in Lebanon, after fleeing war in their own country. Only around 80,000 of them are officially registered as refugees with the United Nations. If they are registered as refugees, then leaving Lebanon for Syria would mean their asylum status is revoked.
Meanwhile Syrians not registered as refugees are not eligible for any kind of support and often live in a kind of economic and legislative limbo. Lebanon's native population only numbers around 5.2 million and recently, due to worsening economic and political crises in Lebanon, tensions between native Lebanese and displaced Syrians have increased.
Omar believes that's why Syrians have been denied entry to Lebanon's state-run shelters for people displaced by Israeli bombing. "People are sleeping on the streets because the shelters do not accept them," he said. "All the Syrians hear is, 'go back to your country'."
But there's no way out right now. Previously anti-government Syrians had been able to return to parts of the country controlled by anti-government groups. In the recent past, this either involved a dangerous and difficult journey or bribing a people smuggler, or both. This has now become almost impossible.
"One young guy was telling me he had previously been in touch with a smuggler who could take him to Dayr Hafir [in Syria] for $350 to $400," Omar recounted. "Now the price has gone up to $700. They are exploiting people in this crisis even more. This young man — he has nowhere to go — is now only asking me, 'where can I dig my grave?'."
Edited by: Andreas Illmer