DAMASCUS, Syria (AP) — Hundreds of Syrians marched through central Damascus on Thursday in the funeral procession of a well-known anti-government figure, chanting calls for justice for the activist who was killed in prison during the last days of President Bashar Assad’s rule.
Unimaginable only a week earlier, the procession for Mazen al-Hamada recalled the funerals-turned-protests of the early days of the uprising against Assad 13 years ago.
With the fear of Assad’s brutal reprisals lifted, many on the street expressed mixed feelings. Some basked in the right to rally and shout the name of the deposed president, calling for him to be tried. Others wondered if this moment of freedom would last, wary of the insurgents who ousted Assad and now control Damascus.
“We will not forget your blood, Mazen,” the marchers, most of them young people, chanted outside a mosque while family and friends held funeral prayers inside.
Others chanted: “We will get our revenge, Bashar. We will bring you before the law.” Some called for Assad’s execution.
Al-Hamada, 47, joined the anti-government protest movement in its early days and was arrested several times. Released in 2013, he left Syria for the Netherlands. There, he became widely known and a symbol of the anti-Assad movement, speaking publicly about the torture he endured in prison and about other prisoners.
Still, he returned to Syria in 2020 — apparently lured by promises of safety — and immediately disappeared.
Amal al-Hamada, his sister, said that as the insurgents closed in on Damascus last week, she dreamed of her brother being released, along with tens of thousands of others held in Syrian detention facilities and prisons.
Instead, relatives told her his body was found in a Damascus hospital along with a dozen others, some emaciated, and others with wounds that suggest they were tortured. By his body’s condition, he appeared to have been killed within the previous week, his sister said.
“I thought he would come out and speak. But when I found out he was executed, I was heartbroken,” she said.
“There are many like Mazen ... (he) is the tip of the iceberg,” said Zeina Baaj, a native of the eastern city of Deir al-Zour, al-Hamada’s hometown, who came to the funeral to pay her respects.
Torture, she said, was Assad's way to keep people in line. "This was this (government)‘s policy for 55 years.”
Tens of thousands of relatives are still seeking information about the fate of loved ones who disappeared under Assad’s police state. Many have swarmed prisons and detention facilities in their searches. Dozens of bodies have been found in morgues.
In Thursday’s procession, the crowd carried al-Hamada’s body from al-Mujtahid hospital to a mosque in central Damascus, then marched through al-Hijaz Square before burying him in a suburb of Damascus.
Fares Abul-Huda, one of several relatives of missing people who joined in the march, said his brother, a hospital staffer, was detained from his job in 2012. Abul-Huda had looked for him since but never knew why he was taken. “All we know is they were .. ruthless."
The family last heard five months ago that the brother, Mahmoud, was being held in Saydnaya, one of Assad’s most notorious prisons, on the outskirts of Damascus. It was thought to house thousands of prisoners, but only a few hundred were found after insurgents broke into it last weekend. Abul-Huda found no signs of his brother.
Many participants said they last protested in Damascus 13 years ago, before Assad’s brutal crackdown on protesters turned the conflict into full-blown civil war.
“I could not have imagined going out in a rally in any way, shape or form in Damascus,” said Mohammad Kulthum, 32, who marched in the procession with his mother.
Bayan Andoura was 14 when the uprising began in 2011 and had never been to a rally. She said she has to remind friends not to whisper anymore when speaking about anything in public.
“You can’t imagine how it feels to be able to express yourself in a place where it was not allowed to speak a word,” she said, marching with a group of her friends.
It was a chance, she said, to repeat chants that first echoed in 2011 and show respect to that past protest movement. “We couldn’t chant them before. We want to say them now. And we will also come up with new ones.”
But there is also worry about what happens next. The main insurgent group that led Assad's ouster, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham or HTS, includes jihadi extremist fighters, and many Syrians don't know whether to believe its leader's claims to have renounced his al-Qaida past and his promises of a more pluralist future.
One participant in the march noted how the new prime minister — rooted in HTS — first appeared in public this week with an Islamist banner next to the new Syrian “revolutionary” flag. After an outcry, he removed the Islamist flag in his second appearance.
At one point during the procession, two armed men fired their weapons in the air in a show of support. The crowd asked them to stop, and they did.
Hani Zia watched the march from the sidewalk, with tears welling up in his eyes. He said the march triggered joy, pain and sadness.
Detainees were only part of the bleak recent history. Hundreds of thousands were killed in government violence against villages and towns around the country that was initially aimed at quelling protests, then at crushing the armed opposition.
During the war, Zia fled to Damascus to escape Assad’s crackdown on his home community of Daraa in the south — an epicenter of the uprising and opposition. He said that in his village of 5,000 residents, 60 people were killed.
“Freedom is expensive. We had to pay a price, and it was sadly the death of our men and women, young and old,” he said.
He was concerned that such public rallies won’t last. “I am not sure we will see this scene again,” he said. “I am not sure what Syria will look like after today.”
“We want to walk in the streets, with no one asking us why and where? And who are you? And what is your sect or religion?”