The streets of Syria erupted in celebration on 8 December 2024. Flags soared, voices sang, and a collective hope filled the air. For the first time in over 50 years the Assad family’s rule had ended, and after 13 years of revolution, Syrians could finally dream of freedom.
But prematurely declaring Syria “safe” – as multiple European countries have already done – disregards ongoing risks and pressures refugees to return involuntarily, violating the principle of non-refoulement. Yes, the dictator is gone, but the remnants of chaos linger and multiple armed groups are still active on the ground. Moreover, regional and global powers are competing to control what happens next, adding to the instability.
As a Syrian refugee, the end of the Assad regime was deeply personal. It was the culmination of years of sacrifice and resilience – a victory forged through pain and unyielding defiance. The images of jubilation were a testament to our struggle and a reminder that hope, even in the darkest times, can prevail.
Yet, alongside the joy, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. Is Syria, though free, truly safe for its people – especially for those like me who fled war and persecution?
While I have been fortunate enough to gain Canadian citizenship and a sense of security in my new home, my worry is even greater for those still navigating the refugee process or applying for asylum after enduring unimaginable struggles to reach safety.
If I, as someone with citizenship, feel anxious about the situation, I can only imagine the fear and uncertainty faced by those who have yet to find a permanent home.
Is Syria, though free, truly safe for its people – especially for those like me who fled war and persecution?
As countries like the UK, Austria, France, Greece, and Germany rush to declare Syria a “safe” country and announce plans to cease processing asylum applications for Syrians, the signs are not good.
Anyone seeking international protection must have their asylum application individually assessed on its merits and in accordance with procedural safeguards. Blanket bans on new asylum applications from Syria ignore the complex realities on the ground and risk violating international obligations under the Refugee Convention. The excitement of liberation should not blind us to the fragile and precarious state Syria remains in today.
Still uncertain, still unsafe
Syria’s current landscape is marred by the presence of multiple armed factions vying for control. Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) dominates the northwest, while the Southern Rebel Forces, known as the Daraa Forces, hold sway in the south. In the northeast, referred to by Kurds as Rojava, the Syrian Democratic Forces maintain authority.
These groups – along with smaller militias and remnants of the former regime’s forces – pose significant risks to civilians. While active fighting has reduced in some areas, localised clashes and violence persist. Around 1.1 million people were newly forced from their homes by the escalation in fighting in November and early December, and over 600,000 remain displaced.
The Refugee Convention contains a cessation clause for determining when refugees may no longer require international protection when the circumstances that caused them to be a refugee “cease to exist”. The guidelines of the UN’s refugee agency (UNHCR) provide that the circumstances must be fundamental and durable. In this volatile environment, how can any state confidently declare Syria safe?
The Council of Europe Commissioner for Human Rights recently cautioned against hasty returns of refugees, emphasising that states should avoid making the general assumption that Syria is now safe and instead make “careful, evidence-based decisions”.
Populist rhetoric overshadows meaningful discussions with unrealistic calls for mass returns that perpetuate harmful, dehumanising stereotypes about refugees.
For many Syrians, the prospect of returning home evokes a mix of joy and anxiety. The longing to see familiar streets and reconnect with loved ones is tempered by the harsh reality of ongoing instability and insecurity.
Moreover, each refugee’s circumstances are unique. For some, returning home may be possible in the future; for others, it remains a distant dream. There are also those who may choose not to return. Families who’ve rebuilt their lives abroad – sending their children to school and contributing to their new communities – face wrenching choices when confronted with policies aimed at forcing them to return.
Take Germany, for instance, where nearly a million Syrians have established a new chapter of their lives. Around 210,000 Syrians are employed in social security-contributing jobs, 200,000 Syrian children are attending German schools, and 160,000 have been granted German citizenship. These numbers tell a story of integration and contribution, a far cry from the reductive narratives used to justify repatriation debates.
Instead of celebrating these successes, populist rhetoric overshadows meaningful discussions with unrealistic calls for mass returns that perpetuate harmful, dehumanising stereotypes about refugees.
A unique responsibility
It is crucial to acknowledge that while many Syrians are eager to contribute to Syria’s rebuilding, the path to a sustainable recovery is far from certain. Rebuilding Syria requires stability, security, and international support – all of which are currently lacking. Premature returns risk undermining these efforts and creating new cycles of displacement.
Countries hosting large Syrian diasporas across the West have a unique responsibility: They must balance supporting refugees who wish to return voluntarily with ensuring the rights and safety of those who cannot or do not want to return. This responsibility should encompass three key roles: leading the effort to rebuild Syria, creating pathways for voluntary returns, and strengthening the Syrian communities who are already vital parts of their societies. This requires nuanced, forward-thinking policies, not populist soundbites.
The international community must stand with us, not abandon us at the first sign of progress.
Forcing refugees to return under the current fluid circumstances is not only dangerous but also morally indefensible and a violation of international law.
As Syrians, we dream of a homeland that is peaceful and just for all its citizens. Until that day comes, the international community must stand with us, not abandon us at the first sign of progress. Refugees are not burdens; we are survivors and contributors, deserving of dignity and respect. Policies must prioritise safety, voluntariness, and sustainability above all else.
To the states debating these policies, I ask: Syria may be free, but is it truly safe? Declaring it so amidst uncertainty ignores the ongoing risks we face. For us, these are not abstract questions – they define our struggle for justice and dignity. Let us demand that the answers reflect humanity over expediency, because the cost of failure is measured in lives.
Note: This article reflects Mustafa Alio’s deeply personal experiences as a Syrian refugee. Rez Gardi provided critical legal insights in its drafting.
