A group of tribesmen in traditional attire filed into an event hall in the rural town of Al Sawra Al Kubra, passing a small, ornate pavilion before greeting a sea of suited Syrian officials.
The Bedouin leaders, joined by dozens of government and business figures, were gathered to raise funds for the rehabilitation of Sweida province – including Al Sawra, one of 36 predominantly Druze villages that were emptied during clashes between Druze militias and pro-government Bedouin tribesmen.
Outside, the aftermath of the fighting loomed over the event in the form of the bullet-riddled, burnt and looted homes of a ghost town. The event, held earlier this month, was part of a campaign by Syria’s authorities to encourage displaced residents to return to areas controlled by the government.
But the gathering failed to reach the very people it sought to convince. Fewer than a handful of Druze attended, reflecting the growing disconnect between the government and the insular minority.
“Who was [the event] for?” asked an elderly Druze man who fled his rural village of Thaaleh. Like most, he sought refuge deeper inside the province as fighting raged in his village. “A province that will never accept them as our government? It was an absurd campaign.”
In the majority of Sweida province, the government is regarded as being complicit in – or, at best, unable to stop – the violence. Many in opposition-held Sweida lost trust in the state following the July violence, calling for some form of autonomy.
Then came the final affront. The venue for the gathering was a communal space used by the Druze for funeral prayers, residents of the province told The National.
“It’s almost like they were dancing on our graves,” said the elderly man from Thaaleh. “They did it in a place where we pray over our dead."
But a media representative for the government-held areas of Sweida defended the choice of venue. “It’s not used exclusively for funeral prayers or religious rituals. It’s a communal space. People meet there for holidays too.”
Coronation or reconciliation?
Depending on who you speak to, the campaign, called "Sweida is part of us", was either a gesture of goodwill by the government in Damascus or a demonstration of authority over their tenuous slice of Sweida in the northern and western countryside. Some saw it as an attempt at reconciliation; others, a victory lap.
Geopolitical risk and conflict analyst Mouayad Al Bonni viewed the campaign as an outward show of reconciliation to placate international allies, while "domestically, they are attempting to avoid making any political concessions" as the government looks to bring the rest of Sweida under its authority.
The clashes between Druze fighters and Bedouin tribesmen were a "microcosm of the transitional government's strategy" to consolidate central power, he added.
The initial violence led to the intervention of government forces. Over nine days, villages were shelled, burnt and looted, with the fighting displacing about 190,000 people, according to UN estimates. Nearly 2,000 people were killed, about half of them Druze civilians either caught in the crossfire or executed by pro-government fighters, according to the UK-based Syrian Observatory for Human Rights.
Videos circulated online showed fighters in government-issue fatigues executing or violently humiliating Druze residents.
Government forces and tribal militias were forced to withdraw after Israel launched strikes on Syrian forces, claiming to be acting on behalf of the Druze, further complicating relations between the province and Damascus. Analysts have said that Israel used the Druze as pawns in a wider strategy to undermine the Syrian government.
Today, the government controls parts of northern and western Sweida – a largely depopulated swathe of countryside, with most rural residents having fled deeper into the province. The US said on Monday it would provide a consignment of "live-saving" aid to the region.
Damascus’s hold over the area is precarious. “The Druze want those villages back. They see [government control] as an occupation,” said analyst Kheder Khaddour, of the Malcolm H Kerr Carnegie Middle East Centre in Beirut.
“The question is, how do you rebuild trust with a tiny minority community that blames authorities for the death of 1,000 civilians?" Mr Khaddour asked. "The government allowed a tribal mobilisation to happen. They allowed [tribal fighters] from Deir Ezzor, Aleppo and Idlib" to enter Sweida, fuelling distrust that "will last forever".
Not enough
A nurse and Red Crescent volunteer in Sweida city told The National that "we want to return, but that will be impossible so long as [government forces] are present on our land, because we don’t trust them to protect us".
His house in Thaaleh was looted, then engulfed in flames shortly after his family escaped the clashes. He described how his relatives were killed by government shelling minutes later as they tried to flee in a car.
Authorities have made attempts to ensure accountability. After an investigation into the clashes, about 20 people linked to Syria’s defence and interior ministries were arrested for suspected breaches against civilians, Sweida Governor Mustafa Al Bakour said. He added that investigations were continuing.
“It's not enough,” Mr Khaddour said.
The government's perceived role in the violence has driven support for calls by Druze spiritual leader Hikmat Al Hijri to seek autonomy for the sect under Israeli patronage.
Mr Al Hijri has already consolidated his leadership by unifying Sweida’s Druze factions under the umbrella of his National Guard following the violence in July.
“The people of Sweida reject the Syrian government to the point they prefer Israel,” Mr Khaddour said. “They have a viable alternative.”
The elderly Druze man from Thaaleh said preference for Israel was a survival instinct. “We’ve been thrust into a situation where we’re forced to fight to save our lives and our children’s lives.”
Sweida under scrutiny
By the end of the gathering in Al Sawra, Syria’s government had raised nearly $15 million in donations for the embattled province. The nurse in Thaaleh called the event a “media farce to polish the government's image”.
Mr Al Bakour acknowledged the difficulty of reconciling with the province's displaced residents. He was appointed by President Ahmad Al Shara, but his authority is not recognised within opposition-held Sweida.
From his residence in Damascus, Mr Al Bakour conceded that “We're not saying the security situation is good. People are living in fear and insecurity due to what happened. They’re apprehensive."
“But it's possible that, in the coming days, if we find a solution, things will stabilise. We’ve already begun restoring basic services so that people can settle down.”
A government committee is also working to restore supplies of essential goods including water and flour. Mr Al Bakour said the campaign covered the entire province, not just state-controlled villages – but how these services will reach opposition areas amid widespread rejection of the government remains unclear.
Only about 3,500 people have returned to western Sweida, the government estimates, despite efforts to encourage resettlement. Officials did not respond to The National’s requests to report on the return of displaced people to government-held areas.
Accounts of the situation in Sweida vary depending on who you talk to. Mr Al Bakour said Druze factions refused to co-ordinate with the government to allow the flow of goods and services. Meanwhile, residents say shortages of flour, fuel and medicine persist because the government controls the entry of supplies – accusing authorities of soft siege tactics that are "low-cost tools of political coercion", according to Mr Al Bonni.
‘Everyone made mistakes’
The donation campaign was broadcast on state TV as a triumph of unity. But even Syria’s authorities, who have not acknowledged the tenuousness of their grip on the Sweida countryside, admit the reality is far more complicated.
“Were there mistakes? Of course. Everyone made mistakes – on all sides,” Mr Al Bakour said. “We all need to take the time to breathe, let the situation calm down and be patient while we seek accountability for the mistakes that were made. Then, people will begin returning to their homes, little by little.”
But in Sweida, fear may trump unity.
For many displaced Druze, a return to government oversight is unthinkable. “Separatism was never on our minds before,” said the nurse from Thaaleh. “But they forced us into it. They left no possibility for reconciliation.”
