Abu Faris , 35, former Free Syrian Army officer, now in Turkey

Our Syrian revolution has failed – it is over. All that is left is a story to tell our children: a story of thousands of Syrian people who confronted Assad’s tyranny and dictatorship with tremendous sacrifices, and yet the world turned its back on them; a revolution that was poisoned by intruders, traitors and foreign money.

Although I served as an officer in the Syrian army after graduation, I could not restrain myself from taking part in protests in Damascus in March 2011, and soon after defecting to the Free Syrian Army. Our intent was to build up Syria, not to abolish it.

The security forces would often crack down on the demonstrations. We would rush towards the back alleys of Damascus looking for a hideout. People readily opened their doors to us. In one house, I found a single woman with her old father. We were three men and a young girl, not knowing each other. She shut the door firmly after letting us inside as the security forces started to hunt for protesters. “Go and sit in my father’s room,” she said, pointing to where her father lay ill, surrounded by a pile of medication. “Just pretend that you are my cousins who came to visit my father,” she said. Then, all of Syria was in love with us.

Now Syria has stopped loving us because we have destroyed it. But it is Assad’s regime which has adopted brutal tactics to crush the protesters. When it turned to armed combat, I rushed to my cupboard where I kept three golden pieces. I sold them to buy a gun – not to aim at the army soldiers, who were my colleagues and most likely did not have the chance to defect, but to fire against barbaric shabiha [militia], who were slaying people and with burning and smashing civilian houses.

Every time I aimed a rocket-propelled grenade at a Syrian army tank, I almost cried Faris Shihab

Every time I aimed a rocket-propelled grenade at a Syrian army tank, I almost cried. These tanks were meant to defend me and my children, but now I had to destroy them before they would kill us. We kept on fighting the regime until the whole of Syria was demolished. We tried our best to avert such enormous destruction, but we failed.

People backed the revolution with everything they owned. Those possessing ammunition or weapons handed them over to us. The brigade’s budget reached more than 25m Syrian pounds (£88,000) a month. Syrians in exile were sending money to us to fight Assad. In time, we started to received funds from Arab states, especially Gulf ones, but then they started trying to impose their own agenda.

I was an officer in a huge FSA brigade in Damascus. I fought in the Mouadamiya district of west Ghouta for a year with more than 3,500 armed fighters. We were only three kilometres away from the presidential palace in July 2012. The regime was on the verge of collapse.

But when the planes struck the centre of Damascus, we had to flee to Daraya, south-west of the capital, where we hid among the groves, laboriously digging trenches, waiting for the soldiers to advance forward.

My friend Ahmed Nadeem was with me in the trench when he got a bullet in his head from a sniper. He died in my arms, aged 22 years old. For nine hours, I was in the trench with his body during airstrikes and tank shelling. I kept looking at him while he was dead: the same guy who had been sharing food with me a few minutes earlier. We had been together since first demo in Damascus. The last words he said to me were: “Please remember me as a Syrian man who died for his country.” Only after midnight, when the shelling eased, could we bury him near an olive tree.

Later, the Syrian people began to turn against the FSA. When Isis began decapitations, people started to curse those who had revolted against the regime. They thought we were the reason that these radical fighters had come to our country. But we wanted to freedom, not Isis.

Some people now think that life was better before the revolution – but these are people who did not lose a sibling, or whose car was not blown up, or whose house was not levelled. When my relatives and friends sit together or watch the news, they say: “What a pity, we were really having a great life. It is true that we did not have dignity but we had enough food.”

Now, should I keep the revolution going for the sake of the martyrs and allow more people to die from starvation under the regime’s bombing? Should I compound the number of the dead? Or conciliate with the regime in hope that one day a child among these people will lead another Syrian revolution, because our revolution is cursed by God.

Recently I left Damascus after buying a fake ID for $30 to pass the army checkpoints at the Turkish borders. I’m in Turkey now, and ready to leave for another country rather than return to Syria. People who fought the regime will never reconcile with the regime. They won’t go back to humiliation after they tasted freedom. If you bend your head once, you will bend it for ever.

Um Naji, 45, supporter of the Syrian government

I live in Nabak district, north of Damascus, with my husband and our three children. Balakees, the eldest, is an architecture student at Damascus University; Naji, my only son, and Sahar, the youngest, are both in high school. I studied economics but never worked – I devoted myself to raising my children. I wanted them to learn music, poetry and be good at school. But when the crisis broke out in Syria, the national concern became more important to me than the personal.



There were a few protests in my neighbourhood in March 2011, but everyone fled when the army vehicles appeared. I laughed when I saw people demonstrating in the streets and asked them: “Why are you protesting? Syria is a safe and secure country.” I was surprised to find my aunt and many friends supporting the demos. I told them: “You are destroying Syria.” But they did not listen – they wanted me to shut up.

Um Naji believes protesters had ‘personal interests’ in the uprising, rather than a true desire for freedom

The FSA controlled the area for almost a year, and kept threatening to kidnap my son, Naji, if I did not remove the Syrian flag from my roof and stop supporting the regime. But the Syrian flag is a sacred icon for me. They were threatening people for trivial reasons.



The truth is that [before the uprising] we all had a good life, even middle-class families. They could go on holiday, eat well and buy medicine. Those who were demonstrating were bribed; people were paid to buy weapons and kill their brothers. Other protesters were disillusioned and were given promises they would be leaders in a new government.

Those who protested and claimed that they wanted freedom had personal interests, not a national goal. They were the first people to send their families abroad and then they joined them.

The government provided people with coupons for basic food items, which the FSA confiscated for themselves. Their commanders become rich from hijacking trucks loaded with goods heading to Damascus.

The FSA did many things that made people hate them. They had everything: weapons, cars and any house they wanted Um Naji

There was always gunfire. If the FSA discovered a government employee heading to work, they forced him to return home and quit his job even though the salary was the only income for the family. It became difficult for my daughter to go to her college in Damascus. My husband lived in fear of being kidnapped – and the ransom would be no less than 20m Syrian pounds (£70,000).

The FSA did many things that made people hate them. They had everything: weapons, cars and any house they wanted. Our neighbour who supported the FSA began telling us we were traitors to the revolution and Syria. The FSA were giving food and money to their supporters and displaced families who moved to the district. There were other neighbourhoods where people were starving, but the FSA did not help them because they supported the government.

My relatives in America and Europe told me to leave the country but I would not. I have a great belief that man has dignity in his own country.

The [regime] army entered Nabak in November 2013. There were tough battles and gunfire for more than a month. We stayed in the basement, sharing our food with other neighbours. When the Syrian army liberated Nabak, I took to the streets and helped raise up the Syrian flag in the main square.

This is not a revolution, it is a nightmare and I’m sure in five years we will have our Syria back. All these people who came to do jihad in Syria, can they explain to me, jihad for what? President Bashar is a doctor and dignified figure who defended his country. He has sustained a lot and never wavered.

Syria today is much better than it has been for the past three years. All the refugees left Syria because they were wanted by the regime. Many times the Syrian government [made provisions] for them to come back in cooperation with Red Crescent, but they refused.

Every time the army liberates more areas, security improves. My daughter in Damascus goes to university safely now. Everything is available: power, water, bread and fruit. Yes, prices are high but it is OK. President Bashar is the only one to preserve Syria as a land of civilisation.

When the opposition was in control, there was stealing, raping, slaughtering and looting. But when Nabak was liberated by the state, we returned to rebuild the district, planting flowers and olive trees. I started to rebuild the schools and roads through volunteer work. I now have more than 150 families to support. We are offering food baskets to people in need in our district, in cooperation with the Red Crescent.

I have great belief that Syria will be back as a model for the world. This belief is growing stronger as time goes on.

Sara Talal, 30, detained by the Assad regime. Now in Lebanon

Although my family is originally from Deraa province, in southern Syria, we lived in Damascus to be close to our jobs. I used to work as a secretary for a private company with a decent salary.

In March 2011 I could feel a mounting sense of fury in the street. I was utterly overwhelmed when I saw people raising anti-Assad banners in the heart of Damascus. I could not resist the temptation of taking part in a few demonstrations to demand political reforms. The government’s response was terribly shocking: our protests were answered by a cloud of bullets fired by security forces.

My family did not object to my participation in protests as we were merely demanding reforms. But the security forces started to hit hard at protesters and to storm homes looking for activists.

Sara Talal says she saw prisoners who had been tortured with electric shocks

I reckoned that as a woman, it was better to help martyrs’ families and the displaced people flooding to our district. Most of the protesters and anti-regime people were using part of their income to buy bedding, food and medication for bereaved families.

I only knew I had been spotted by the security forces when five security men broke into our house at midnight. I was thrown in a vehicle, blindfolded and handcuffed, and taken to air force security branch to be interrogated from 6am to 7pm. All sort of questions were directed to me: which group do you work for? Who is inciting you? Who is funding you? Who are your colleagues? My answer was that I could not watch people suffering without helping them.

The interrogator said: “No, you are helping the families of militants who are hiding in your district.”

I said: “If you saw a woman with a hungry child, would you or wouldn’t you help her? Not all the families were protesting, some of them left their districts looking for safety.”

Then one of the security officers checked the internet and found that I had taken part in few demos. The interrogation method took a different course, every answer was received with a few blows by hands and boots on my face and head. They wanted me to say that I was with the militants. I told them: “I’m not going to confess to something I have not done.”

Even though the atmosphere was very scary, I lost my sense of fear. There were four security officers in the room, cursing me and being verbally abusive.

I was thrown in a cell for women. Our meals were slices of bread, a boiled egg or rotten potato in the morning; soup, tomato and cucumber for dinner. There was a tap in the room but we did not have a bath for 39 days.

I did not see my family for two months. Some detainees would come from their interrogation, saying they had been threatened with rape if they did not cooperate. A few detainees were kept in solitary cells in the security branch’s basement. I saw two or three detainees who were tortured with electric shocks, and five or six who did not show up again.

After 40 days, the jailer shackled my hands and feet, although my eyes were left open. I was moved with nine blindfolded male detainees, who had been tortured and were wearing only their underwear, to Adra prison north-east of Damascus. The prison had six wings with big rooms.

I was jailed with 30 other women in a room with a bathroom. We slept on the bare floor and were watched by cameras. It was the first chance I had to contact my family. After a month, I summoned before a judge and signed a few documents though I did not know what they said. The judge released me on bail.

We wanted justice and fairness: there are Alawites living a luxurious life while we are struggling to survive Sara Talal

I was released with other eight women. My mother and sister were waiting for me outside the prison but not my brother Adel, who was a high school teacher. My sister told me that the security forces had snatched Adel from his bed and accused him of being a militant. The next day, Adel’s body was found by our front door. My eldest brother, Yasser, was taken two years ago, but the family still has no clue about his fate. Our family has paid a high price for our revolution against Assad’s regime.

I stayed at home for a short time, fearful that I would be detained again. Then I moved among my relatives’ houses, never staying in the same place for long. Finally I smuggled myself to Lebanon to register with the UN, but I don’t feel safe in Lebanon either because I do not have a legal residency. I stay at home with my husband, whose residency and passport have both expired.



Two weeks ago we got a phone call telling us that the Netherlands has accepted us because my sister has been there for many years. My mother and sister stayed with my brothers’ wives and children in Damascus. My mother still hopes she will hear about my detained brother.

We believe our revolution has not finished. When we protested in the streets, we didn’t expect the regime to use such excessive force against the Syrian people. We did not protest for personal benefits or to create chaos or terror in Syria. We wanted justice and fairness: there are Alawites living a luxurious life while we are struggling to survive. Now we need a miracle to prevail against Assad.



I do not regret what I have done. I still hope that one day I will go back to Syria after it has been liberated – although there is no Syria any more. It is completely destroyed.

Abu Hareth, 30, from Homs, joined Isis a year ago

The economic crisis in Syria cast its grim shadow over middle-class people in Homs, who were struggling to survive in the face of soaring prices, high taxes and low incomes. Young men could not get married and start a family until they were over 30. Employment discrimination increased the wrath of locals against Assad’s regime: Alawites dominated government jobs at the expense of Sunni majority who felt like slaves.

At home, our hatred towards the Syrian sectarian regime was escalating. My father taught me to curse the regime as a young child, and he was waiting for a chance to voice his opposition in public.



Demonstrators gather in the centre of Homs, April 2011. Photograph: Reuters

I was happy to see the successive toppling of Arab tyrant regimes after revolutions broke out in Tunisia, Libya, Egypt and Yemen. It was obvious that the revolutionary fever would reach Syria but we did not expect the people of Deraa to trigger the uprising by their graffiti on the city’s walls: “It’s your turn Dr Bashar.” The regime’s crackdown on the people of Deraa took us on to the streets of Homs on 15 March 2011 to mark the beginning of the Syrian revolution.



The historic Khalid ibn al-Walid mosque in Homs was the base for the first march in defiance of the Syrian regime. There were about 300 men, some calling for the toppling of the regime and throwing stones at the security forces. They used teargas and water hoses to disperse the protest, and arrested a few people.

After three weeks, the regime’s patience began to run out and it started to use live ammunition, turning peaceful protest to armed revolution. I was arrested in one of these protests, and many of my mates were tortured and killed. During 30 days of detention at the security branch in Homs, I was tortured with electric shocks and beaten. I was released under an amnesty meant to appease people’s anger. I joined a small militant group in prison, they were well trained and trading in weapons. I also filmed violent events in Homs on my mobile and sent footage to friends living abroad to run on YouTube.



Funded by donors from Gulf states, I formed a media group of 11 armed men to document regime crimes. Donations were sent in the form of humanitarian aid, which we sold to buy media equipment and weapons. I took part in many battles until a siege was imposed on Baba Amr [a district of Homs] by the regime and most of the locals were forced to flee. I joined Salafi Hizb ut-Tahrir, which was calling for an Islamic state, and learned a lot of fighting skills with them. But I was also watching with great admiration the rise of Jabhat al-Nusra and was totally impressed by their martyrdom operations.

Our battle now is with international community, the US and crusaders Abu Hareth

The siege lasted for two years and it was a hard test for us. We lost lots of dear people, and were forced to eat reptiles, cowhide and leaves. I pledged my allegiance to Isis in March 2014. I did a month-long Sharia course, which included five lessons a day to learn the Qur’an, conditions of Islam, Isis discipline and Islamic sharia. Then Mosul and Raqqa were liberated and we became a real Islamic state.



My life has changed entirely since I joined Isis. I was an ignorant man who used to have many girlfriends, but no more after learning it is not correct Islam to fall in love with a girl without being married to her. I have to learn sharia and fight infidels instead of playing football. Songs are not approved either. My life has a purpose now and a state to defend.

In a few days, I am to marry a Tunisian jihadi doctor. I helped her and lots of people from the UK, Finland, Pakistan to come here. Isis gives jihadis money for food, heating and spending. If a jihadi wants to get married, Isis gives him money and pays his rent.

The [Syrian] regime is weak – it has tanks and planes, but not enough fighters. Our battle now is with international community, the US and crusaders. We know that the US does not want Assad to go, otherwise he would have been removed in the first week. They want Syrian people to say: “We are done, the regime defeated us, please come and help us.” They will say the solution is to have negotiations and a coalition government by which all the martyrs’ blood will go in vain.

I work now for al-Furqan media centre. We carried out a poll about the killing of the Jordanian pilot – most people in Syria agreed with it. Syrian people know that this crusade, this infidel and malicious coalition, is against Muslims, not Isis.

Abu Salih, 45, has lived in Romania for 22 years, and provides aid to Syria

From the time I was a law student in Damascus, I was unhappy with life under the Syrian regime, and the intelligence and security forces’ actions against ordinary people. The only solution was to flee Syria, but getting a visa was almost impossible.

I talked to friends who had settled in Romania and they invited me to join them. I was due to serve in the army immediately after graduation, so I didn’t sit the final exams. I paid for a tourist passport, and left for Romania after signing a document promising I would be back within three months. I didn’t go back until after the revolution.

Abu Salih helped provide medication, satellite phones and cameras for the protesters against the regime

In Romania, my friends and I were in constant fear of being forced to leave, or that the regime would harm our families who were still in Syria. But, encouraged by revolutions in other Arab countries [in early 2011], we stepped up contacts inside Syria through Facebook and Twitter with people who could help spark the revolution by protesting against the regime. We organised demonstrations in Romania, Austria and Germany. We spoke to the media about the goals of the revolution and the regime’s criminal practices against Syrian people.

The aim was to push for a peaceful revolution, to reveal the truth of what was happening inside Syria and how the regime was oppressing and torturing protesters in detention centres. With the first protest, the fear of the regime was broken – but we did not expect the international community to allow Assad to kill the Syrian people.

After three months, I drove with my colleagues in four cars for more than 3,500km from Germany through Austria, Hungry, Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey and finally to Syria. We shipped medications, satellites, modern mobiles and cameras, secret cameras like pens, and hats and toys for the protesters to conceal themselves from the regime while they were filming. We handed this to activists waiting at the border.

There were no foreign donations. If we needed $10,000, a few Syrians in Romania would donate something like $1,500 each, and we’d buy equipment and drive to Syria. Then, we thought it would be better to open an office near the Turkish–Syria border to keep aid flowing. After that I started to go to Idlib, Raqqa and Qalamoun by myself to distribute the aid.

We did not expect the international community to allow Assad to kill the Syrian people Abu Salih

We brought two ambulances from Hamburg but we had a car accident during a heavy snow storm in the Czech Republic, and the ambulances sank in snow. It took us two days to lift them, then we were driving under a bridge and the vehicle was too high and we got stuck again.

Mobiles and internet equipment were hidden inside our clothes and underneath the car seats, which were piled with clothes and shoes and Syrian bread while we crossed borders. We weren’t allowed to take medication but we would bring some first-aid equipment, such as stretchers and wheelchairs, to the Free Syrian Army and local committees.

A few times the shipment fell into the hands of the security forces, or the vehicle would be hit by a rocket or get ambushed. Sometimes trucks loaded with internet receivers, Thurayas [satellite phones] and communications equipment were lost if the driver was detained by security forces or killed while making the shipment.

We were able to send more than 50 secondhand ambulances to Syria. We bought some from Hamburg city council, others from the health ministry in Hungary. They cost $5,000 each, which we paid either from our savings or from donations from Syrians in exile.

I felt guilty staying in Romania while Syrians were being killed as they faced the regime. That’s why we opened an office in Turkey, to be close to our people and to make it easier to send aid all over Syria. The fighters inside Syria said they didn’t need us to fight, but to provide important equipment. They wanted support.

Our main concern now is how to stop the bloodbath in Syria, as the regime is getting more brutal. The revolution was right and we don’t regret that we protested against the regime. We will never give up. We still provide food baskets to bereaved people, and the families of detainees and martyrs. We try to reach people in hotspots that no one can reach.

I meet lots of people who are pessimistic about the revolution. But I also met a father who lost his three sons. I asked him: “Do you regret that your sons were killed and the regime still in power?” He said: “No, I’m crying because I have nothing more to offer to Syria.”

After four years of revolution, some people who used to donate $1,000 can now pay only $200. We thought the regime would collapse within three or four months, and that’s why we spent all that we had in a mad way and without planning.

Now we have learned to become more organised. The donations are smaller but better used and go to the people who are truly in need. We are trying to establish projects inside Syria to fund our activities and stop relying on foreign aid. We can’t stay like beggars asking for money. We have built the first camp inside Syria, in Attana, for displaced families.

We were in Idlib in 2012, moving medications to a makeshift hospital that was levelled by a rocket immediately after we left it. In Kafar Sijnah our cars were hit by a shell – I don’t know how we survived. One of the doctors who was working with us was killed by a sniper. We will keep demanding freedom even if the revolution did not achieve its goals. I feel I have done my duty towards my country.

Abu al-Farouq, 30, FSA commander in Aleppo

I was running a food store with my two brothers in Aleppo province, in northern Syria. The store income was about $2,000 per a month, yet the family’s expenses sometimes hit more than $3,000. To maintain a business, you had to keep bribing governmental staff, even if you were working in accordance with the law. We were always in debt. My friends and I talked about the need to take action against the regime, as other people did in Tunisia and Libya, to improve our economic situation.



FSA commander Abu al-Farouq

When protests broke out in Damascus and Deraa in March 2011, we hoped the regime would respond by offering some reforms and cool down people’s anger. For sure, that would have been enough. But the regime was too arrogant and turned violent against peaceful people.



I took part in demonstrations in Aleppo with my brothers and friends, calling for the toppling of the regime. It’s a pity that the security forces received our shouts for freedom and democracy with fatal bullets and detention. More than 150 students were arrested for two or three months for being activists. There was no attempt to hold a dialogue and find a solution to the crisis. We found ourself facing the regime with bare chests and began to gather money to buy guns to defend ourselves.



We launched our first military operation on 15 September 2011 against a military checkpoint in Aleppo. The checkpoint sustained big damage but our ammunition ran out before we could liberate it.



We thought that we should have an army to control Syria after the toppling of the regime, and many brigades were formed under the Free Syrian Army’s (FSA) name. I joined the FSA, thinking our aim was to have a democratic liberal Syria, not a sectarian one.



The first FSA brigade included 25 young men from Aleppo, but more volunteers came until there were more than 400 fighters. We were able to liberate 90% of Aleppo in a record time, but the FSA Command would ask us to stop when we were on the verge of achieving a big victory, or they would stop sending us weapons in a middle of a crucial battle. FSA Command played a suspicious role in our retreat.

Our battle with Isis is a matter of existence Abu al-Farouq

Then, the appearance of Isis and Jabhat al-Nusra broke our back in Aleppo. Al-Nusra claimed that they came to support the FSA, and they did not have any ambitions to rule Syria. But some FSA brigades commanders began to disappear and then we found their bodies in a deserted area of Aleppo. Now we are fighting Isis, Jabhat al-Nusra, Kurds and the regime.



If we devote ourselves to fighting Isis and Jabhat al-Nusra, the regime will recapture the areas we have liberated. To solve this problem, a deal was made with Isis that the FSA would stay out of areas liberated by Isis, and Isis would not advance in our areas. But Isis began to tempt people with religious speech and money, and more than 10,000 FSA fighters went to fight with Isis. For many it was either fighting with Isis and earning a living, or fighting with the FSA and starving.

To cover the losses among our fighters who turned against us, we opened new recruiting centres. The number of new recruits is really good, but we are still short of money and weapons. Our force now is mainly building up in Aleppo countryside with more than 40,000 fighters. Our battle with Isis is a matter of existence.

Any truce with the regime is unacceptable after all the sacrifices we made. I have lost more than 150 fighters I knew over the past four years. Local people in Aleppo still support us, and the large number of new recruits gave us a good push to continue in our struggle against the regime. People are prepared for liberation to take another four years. I will keep fighting till the last drop of blood in my body.

• This article was amended on 13 March 2015 to use a form of one of the interviewees’ name which he prefers.