I Was in Damascus. Left with Respect.
The air in Damascus has shifted, even if its material conditions have not. I moved through a city marked by energy, anxiety and moments of hope, while its society negotiated its future in real time.
I was in Damascus last week and found myself unexpectedly struck by the energy of the streets. Not the sort of energy that translates as full recovery, nor the kind that pretends the last 15 years did not happen. But a practical energy.
Not because the damage is invisible. It is not. The buildings are tired, the infrastructure worn down, the economy clearly strained after civil war, sanctions and foreign intervention. But the streets were alive in a way I had not expected.
Yani there was movement. Noise. Shops open late. Traffic impatient – horrible is another word- as ever. A kind of ordinary insistence on daily life. It did not erase what the Assad dynasty had done to this country. Nothing erases that. But it interrupted the narrative of paralysis that so often frames Syria from the outside.
I believe the resilience of Syrians is a lesson worth listening to.
From afar, the story is still written in extremes. A former jihadist now leads the transitional government. Depending on who is sp…
