'Punish us or honour us': Syrian prisoners in Lebanon demand justice through repatriation

As Syrian rebels advanced on Damascus in December 2024, Syrian detainees in Lebanon – some jailed for political or armed activity, many never tried nor sentenced – edged closer to prison televisions, their hopes rising.

When the news came, shouts of jubilation soon echoed throughout the corridors of Lebanon’s ill-reputed Roumieh prison, the country's largest, as word spread from cell to cockroach-infested cell: the Al Assad reign was over.

The first act Syria’s rebels undertook was to fling open the cells of Syria’s notorious prisons, unleashing thousands of political dissidents who had vanished inside. The news electrified the Syrian population of Roumieh.

Qosay, one of an estimated 2,600 Syrians crowded into Lebanon's prisons, hoped it would be their turn soon.

Speaking to The National secretly from his cell in Roumieh, he said Syria’s rebel leader-turned-President Ahmad Al Shara "won't neglect us".

The 27-year-old media activist was arrested early last year after exposing refugee conditions in Arsal and the practice of arbitrary deportations by Lebanese authorities. He said security officials tortured him until he confessed to his past affiliation with the Qalamoun Military Council – a now-defunct rebel group once active along the Lebanon-Syria border.

Qosay was convicted of terrorism. In a cruel twist of irony, his former commander, Ahmad Al Tamer, is now a counter-terrorism officer in the new Syrian army.

'I’m like most Syrians in Lebanon’s prisons'

In the same prison block, a flicker, tentative but undeniable, ignited in Khaled’s chest for the first time in a decade. Ten years of arbitrary detention – no trial, no conviction – had worn him down.

Khaled’s first words to The National were a pointed declaration: “I’m like most Syrians in Lebanon’s prisons who were imprisoned without any trial or conviction.

“There’s a Lebanese stereotype that refugees are criminals or fugitives,” he said. "It's how a person can go 10 years without a trial."

The spark quickly became a fire. He and other detainees – among them Qosay – established a news agency from within the jail, using smuggled phones to lobby Syria’s new leaders for repatriation.

“Take us back," Qosay said. "The Syrian government can take us to court and try our cases. They can decide whether they want to punish us or honour us.”

Qosay and Khaled – who asked to be identified by pseudonyms – spoke to The National on condition of anonymity, fearing retribution from the prison administration.

Founding diplomacy

The fate of Syria’s prisoners in Lebanon is at the heart of efforts to re-establish relations between the two countries for the first time in more than 50 years.

But while Lebanese officials welcome a treaty that would ease overcrowding in the country's prisons, there are still major scars to overcome. Lebanon, enduring violent spillover from the civil war in Syria and a wave of fleeing refugees, was deeply affected by the conflict. Syria, in turn, was profoundly marked by Hezbollah’s armed intervention on behalf of the ousted regime.

“We're committed to working together,” said Lebanon's Deputy Prime Minister Tarek Mitri, who oversees Lebanese-Syrian relations. In his hands, he holds the draft of a judicial treaty between the two nations. “We're delighted to have a relationship with our Syrian neighbour that is friendly and based on mutual respect. This is something we've not had for 50 years.”

Mr Mitri said once the Syrian committee had agreed to the treaty, he hoped it would be quickly ratified by Lebanon’s parliament.

Mohammad Taha Al Ahmad, head of the Syrian committee, struck a more cautious note. “This is a large undertaking. That’s the practical reality. But there is a real and serious intent for the improvement of relations.”

No Syrians left behind?

The transitional government in Damascus is demanding the blanket repatriation of all Syrians in Lebanese prisons, including Islamist extremists. Securing their return is a test of its legitimacy, showing its core constituency that it does not abandon its own.

But Lebanese officials told The National it would not be possible to repatriate Syrians convicted of violent crime. That includes fighters who participated in cross-border attacks on Lebanese army soldiers – some of whom are linked to Hayat Tahrir Al Sham (HTS), senior members of which now lead Syria’s government. HTS was affiliated with Al Qaeda but later distanced itself from the group's zealotry in an attempt to portray a more moderate image.

“The target prison population [eligible for release] is people who were arrested upon the request of the former Syrian authorities, because they had allegedly committed crimes in Syria," Mr Mitri said. "These crimes were of a political nature – they were part of the opposition."

Mr Al Ahmad proposed that Syrians sentenced for violent crime in Lebanon could “complete their sentences in Syrian prisons – if they were given fair and just trials [in Lebanon]”.

His words reflected a fundamental mistrust of the Lebanese justice system, in which the judiciary remains vulnerable to political interference, thus potentially falling short of independence.

Mr Al Ahmad suggested a Syrian delegation's forthcoming visit would include proposals suggesting an executive order be issued “in line with the reality of Syrian [detainees] present in Lebanon".

Lebanese Justice Minister Adel Nassar, who drafted the judicial treaty, dismissed the idea that Syrians already convicted of murder would be released into Syrian custody. He conceded that some eligible detainees not yet sentenced could be tried in Syria. It would help unload some pressure on Lebanon's overwhelmed justice system.

Mr Nassar also dismissed the demand of Syrian detainees to release imprisoned Lebanese fighters who allied with them against former president Bashar Al Assad's forces.

Mr Al Ahmad agreed with the Justice Minister, indicating Damascus would make no such requests. "That is an internal matter for the Lebanese," he said.

Prison conditions

Roumieh is notorious for torture, abuse, poor conditions and severe overcrowding. Water drips from ceilings; communicable diseases run rampant; food is inedible; and death from medical neglect is not uncommon. Testimony by detainees was corroborated by video footage sent to The National on smuggled phones.

Of the prison's 2,400 Syrians, only 750 have been convicted, said Judge Raja Abinader, who is part of the joint committee negotiating Syrian prisoner repatriation. The rest – more than 70 per cent – are awaiting trial. To repatriate them, courts would first need to conduct trials, a process slowed by strikes, low salaries and other logistical challenges.

Lebanese officials acknowledge the shortcomings of the prison conditions and the judiciary. “We all admit that this is an abnormal and unacceptable situation,” Deputy Prime Minister Mitri told The National.

In an effort to expedite trials for detainees, "we took transportation out of the equation. We brought the judges and lawyers and trials to the prison,” said Mr Abinader.

“We have to undertake a professional and institutional dialogue [with the Syrian government], then sign a judicial treaty,” Mr Abinader said.

“The rest will be on a case-by-case basis,” he added, referring to prisoners convicted of violent crime. “The person who killed Lebanese Army soldiers in Arsal, or sent a car bomb to Beirut and killed 40 people – should we release him to Syrian custody?”

Before Mr Al Assad’s fall, Khaled could hardly imagine life outside Roumieh. Meanwhile, Qosay seethed at the injustice of being imprisoned for the same affiliation for which his commander in Syria was promoted. The two, along with other detainees, spend hours writing press releases that expose the inhumane prison conditions and lobbying Syrian authorities to prioritise their release.

“In Lebanon, we’re considered guilty until proven innocent," Khaled said. "Now, we're calling for a course correction."