When Mohamed paid an Afghan smuggler several hundred euros to drive him and his friends from Thessaloniki to the Greek-Macedonian border in July, he thought the money was all the smuggler would want. Instead, once on road the driver feigned a problem with the engine and persuaded the Syrians to leave the car on the pretext of avoiding detection by the police. “And then he stole our passports,” said Mohamed.



Mohamed and his friends are the latest victims of a burgeoning trade in Syrian identity documents. Though most European nations have been slow to welcome more than a few Syrian refugees, the well-known preferential treatment Syrians receive within the German and Swedish asylum system has turned their passports into desired accessories for other immigrants who otherwise would not be likely qualify as refugees.

The head of the European border agency, Frontex, said this week that Arabs from outside Syria were buying counterfeit Syrian passports. Fabrice Leggeri told a French television channel that the appeal to buyers lay in how “they know Syrians get the right to asylum in all the member states of the European Union”.

It’s a trade that is concerning not just Frontex, but Syrian refugees themselves, who feel that it may harm their own chances of asylum or at least slow their applications down. Hashem Alsouki, whose quest for refuge in Sweden was profiled by the Guardian earlier this year, said: “The situation with the passports is very worrying, and it might be the reason why my application for asylum is taking a long time. The officials have to spend more time working out if someone is a genuinely a Syrian citizen.”

Syrians themselves are using fake identification to ease their passage through Europe. After taking the boat from Turkey, there are two ways out of Greece – a long hike through northern Greece into the Balkans and from there through Hungary, Austria and finally northern Europe. Or the more expensive but direct route by plane or boat that requires a fake passport or fake national ID card for those who don’t have them.

Some aren’t strictly fake. They just belong to a friend or acquaintance who has a similar face to you. A Syrian might use a “ghost passport”, as they’re known, to fly from Greece to elsewhere in Europe, and then post the passport back to its rightful owner after claiming asylum. But other passports and IDs are simply stolen.

In Athens, a dealer nicknamed Abu Karem offers all kinds of European passports to Syrians. There are brand new ones printed in Bulgaria that cost a few hundred euros, but are almost worthless. There are also the very expensive stolen passports that come with stamps and get altered with new pictures that cost up to €5,000 (£3,600). Payment depends on whether you arrive. Abu Karem told a recent prospective customer: “I swear to God that I won’t take one euro before you are delivered to the centre of the capital of Austria.”

At the cafe where he does his business, thronged by agitated Syrians, promises and pleads are made, and prices negotiated. Many leave, however, either put off by the price or not convinced by the vague promises of safe delivery.

For those who stay, it can be a disappointing process. Seif, a Syrian engineer who arrived in Greece this summer, bought an European ID card for €3,000 from a dealer like Abu Karem. “It can be any kind of ID – Greek, Italian, Hungarian,” said Seif. “The dealer takes your photo, he puts it in the ID with the name of another guy. Then you get a plane ticket and go to the airport, and you hope it convinces the people at passport control. It’s a matter of self-confidence.”

Seif did get past passport control, but rather than flying straight to the country where he wanted to claim asylum, his smuggler had bought him a ticket to a third EU country. The same thing happened to his nephew, who is now stuck in yet another European country far from the rest of his family. “You can never trust smugglers,” Seif said.