Decades of isolation yield a nation wary of peace

0 Comments | Insight on the News, Feb 26, 1996 | by Colin Barraclough, | Martin Sieff

The Arab-Israeli conflict given President Hafez Assad license to dominate Syrian society. Peace brings him a dilemma: Economic liberalization could mean the end of his authoritarian regime.

Strolling along the narrow alleyways of the Old City in Damascus is like stepping into the past. The closely packed wattle-covered houses are only 500 years old, but the layout of the streets hasn't changed much since biblical times.

Turn down al-Hananya Street, near the Eastern Gate, and you find the house of Ananias, the early Christian who healed St. Paul's blindness. A few hundred yards away, in a vaulted chamber in the Omayyad Mosque, a silver sepulchre encases what the tour guides say is the severed head of John the Baptist.

This section of the old quarter remains Christian; in December and January, Christmas lights cast a multicolored hue on singers caroling through the winding streets. In summer, the old quarter is filled with European tourists visiting Syria's magnificent old churches, mosques and synagogues.

Despite its image in the West as a militant Islamic pariah state, Syria is far from a homogeneous country. The government, a secular socialist autocracy drawn from the minority Alawite clan, presides over a population that encompasses Jew, Christian and Muslim alike. Ancient and modern exist side by side: Wizened men clad in the traditional Arab raffiyeh headdress rub shoulders with youths sporting Michael Jackson T-shirts. Neon-lit cabarets and clubs have sprouted throughout Damascus, the oldest continually inhabited city in the world.

For decades, Syria cut itself off from the West, aligning with the Soviet Union and fighting continuously with Israel. But the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, the same year Syria agreed to participate in the U.S.-sponsored Middle East peace process. Negotiations with Israel resumed last December in an attempt to secure a "land-for-peace" deal: Syria wants the return of the Golan Heights, a strategic region that Israel captured in 1967.

Pierre Abboud, a Christian businessman who runs a handicraft shop on al-Hananya Street, has been watching the Syrian-Israeli peace talks with hope. "We don't know the details of the peace talks," he confides, sitting among a sparkling array of silver daggers, inlaid wooden backgammon sets and opal jewelry. "We're all waiting for an agreement. Everyone working in this market wants the government to make peace so the tourists will come back. Peace can only be good for business."

Like Abboud, most Syrians know very little about their government's negotiations. State-owned newspapers provide sketchy details, allowing rumors to circulate with alarming speed. Foreign visitors to Damascus are bombarded with questions from Syrians eager to hear the latest update.

After almost 30 years of hostilities with Israel, however, the Syrians seem prepared for peace. Western companies are creeping in: Adidas and Benetton already are there and others are taking soundings. A property boom on land adjacent to the Golan has sparked speculation that a deal is imminent.

President Hafez Assad is extremely cautious in public. Although Assad desperately wants to regain the Golan Heights as the greatest legacy of his 26-year rule, he is determined to dictate the speed of peacemaking. Western diplomats in Damascus say he is anxious to avoid a quick deal that could undermine his reputation as the last Arab leader actively opposing Israeli power in the Middle East.

But the reality of peace will not be easy for though many ordinary Syrian hopefully of a "peace dividend," it is unlikely that the government immediately will slash its military budget, which accounts for some 60 percent of gross domestic product. "I don't think the peace will lead to a reduction in military spending at first," Nabil Sukkar, director of the Syrian Consulting Bureau, an independent consultancy, tells Insight. "Israel's army is better equipped and will remain so as long as the United States continues its policy of supporting Israel."

Business leaders also are anxious about the consequences of a peace settlement. Syria has cushioned itself from the world with nationalized industries, government subsidies and high tariff barriers. A peace deal would allow Israelis - and others - to compete with Syrian manufacturers in their own market. Pessimists fear the country could become a source of cheap labor servicing the Israeli economy.

In his gilt-decorated office in Damascus' old marketplace, Rateb Shalleh has a perfect view of the Syrian business community. Educated at Oxford and the University of California at Berkeley, the president of the Damascus chamber of commerce is concerned that Syria's lack of a money market will stifle economic growth. Nationalized banks are loathe to extend financing to ventures unconnected with the regime. Even the simplest loan can take months to arrange; new businesses often are started with money raised from family and friends. The nearest Syria gets to international banking is an American Express office in downtown Damascus.