Despite Ahmad al-Hassoun’s certainty that his father, detained since 1983, was executed, he refuses to give in to despair. “We must dream of miracles as part of our determination to see Syria rise from the rubble,” he says.
Ahmad, a university professor and novelist residing in France for the past five years, has struggled to sleep since the fall of the Syrian regime. His days are consumed by following an endless stream of news and staying in contact with his brother, who hasn’t left Saydnaya prison yet.
Ahmad’s father, Anis al-Hassoun, a Syrian army officer, was arrested in the 1980s on suspicion of joining a movement planning defections within the army as a prelude to a military coup. Many members of this group were arrested during a meeting in Aleppo, but Anis and others managed to escape to their hometown in rural Idlib, hiding in the rugged terrain of Jabal al-Zawiya.
Accounts differ, but one version suggests that intelligence agents, with the help of local Baathists, betrayed the defectors and captured them between Jabal al-Zawiya and Maarat al-Numan. Anis disappeared without a trace.
Ahmad recounts the hardships his family has endured due to his father’s enforced disappearance. “We couldn’t obtain a death certificate, which prevented me from securing student housing during university—a right for students who’ve lost a parent. We can’t manage our properties either, and requesting a death certificate puts us at risk of arrest and humiliation. I experienced this firsthand in 2005 when I was summoned by the Idlib intelligence branch and subjected to insults and beatings.”
“Over 40 years, we’ve received countless conflicting accounts about my father’s fate, but they all point to the same conclusion—his execution,” Ahmad tells Daraj. His family holds onto hope in the absence of tangible evidence. They cling to the possibility of his survival, knowing that the regime’s prisons remain shrouded in secrecy and that detainees held for decades have been freed in the past.
Turning to social media, Ahmad searches tirelessly for leads about his father’s fate. “Although we haven’t found definitive answers, people are now asking questions and engaging in ways that were unthinkable before.” Ahmad recalls receiving unverified information that Anis was executed in Courtyard No. 6 at Tadmor Prison.
Despite his emotional connection to the issue, Ahmad remains pragmatic. His novel, The Kidnapper, explores the psychological trauma of detainees and their families. However, he stresses the need for formal documentation: “It’s time to launch a comprehensive investigation into the files of tens of thousands of disappeared individuals,” a demand shared by families of the forcibly disappeared, who feel abandoned by both Syrian and international institutions.
Ahmad’s call for documentation resonates with Firas Saqqar, another Syrian exile in France. Firas recounts that after his brother Tariq was arrested in 2013 at the infamous “Checkpoint of Death” in Aleppo, the family heard from multiple sources that he was executed along with other detainees. However, a former prisoner released from Saydnaya in 2020 claimed to have seen Tariq alive there.
Firas approaches every piece of information with caution, given the years of extortion his family endured. Though he suspects his brother was killed, he clings to a 1% chance that Tariq might still be alive.
For families of the forcibly disappeared, the fall of the regime is bittersweet. “The joy of seeing the regime collapse is tinged with fear of facing the truth,” Firas explains. He criticizes the careless handling of such a sensitive issue and the emotional toll it takes on families. While understanding people’s eagerness, he regrets the lack of systematic approaches to investigating this matter, especially concerning chaotic attempts to enter Saydnaya.
Firas emphasizes the importance of rigorous documentation—not just anecdotal accounts from survivors but concrete details like arrest dates, detention centers, and responsible authorities. These details could provide critical clues about missing individuals such as his brother.
Another layer of pain comes from the destruction of records. “Even if they don’t mention Tariq directly, they could offer insights,” Firas says. “For example, if his name doesn’t appear in Sednaya’s records but does in those of the branch that arrested him, it could suggest field execution.”
Firas is also frustrated by the spread of misinformation, including recycled lists of “released detainees.” He questions the chaotic handling of the file, asking, “Who gained access to prisons after the regime fell? Where are the experts investigating the secret prisons we keep hearing about?”
The lack of institutional support for families like Firas’s is echoed by Salma Othman, who searches for her half-brother Muhannad Saleh. From France, Salma monitors TV channels, social media, and networks with other families. Despite her efforts, she has found no credible leads. Her fears are compounded by videos showing detainees with memory loss, which could complicate identifying Muhannad.
Salam Abu Shala told Daraj that nightmares have haunted her for 11 years. She witnessed the arrest of her husband, Jamil Ghanem, before her eyes on July 25, 2013, at a military intelligence checkpoint in Wadi Al-Yas, located between Bloudan and Zabadani. Before relocating to France, Salam lived in Zabadani. “There was a military outpost in an area called Al-Hirsh, overseen by Colonel Jaber Issa, who belonged to the Fourth Division. It was his men who arrested my husband. Once, two detainees managed to escape from Al-Hirsh and informed the locals that Jaber kept dogs that were fed on the corpses of prisoners.”
Like many families in Zabadani, Salam Abu Shala had hoped to find her husband alive in Sednaya Prison. However, in the end, only two individuals from the area were released—a small number compared to the total forcibly disappeared from Zabadani, estimated at around 700 people, according to Abu Shala. This left her questioning: “Is he still alive or not? And if he has passed away, what happened to his body?”
Salam’s questions increased after reports of the regime using acid pits and crematoriums to dispose of detainees. She believes her husband’s fate might be uncovered in Al-Hirsh, the area where he was arrested, but has found no organization willing to investigate potential mass graves there.
On December 15, the situation shifted with the discovery of a mass grave in the aforementioned area—a development Salam Abu Shala is following closely. According to Al-Hadath, the location of the grave was determined after tracking information “from and to,” which relied on residents’ testimonies, corroborating Salam’s claims about local knowledge of what transpired in the area. Additionally, the report highlighted the urgent need for specialized teams to excavate and examine the remains, further validating Salam’s assertion about the absence of any organization systematically managing such investigations.
In this context, Yaseen Sweihah, writer and executive editor of Al-Jumhuriya Net, criticized on Facebook the “astonishing carelessness” in handling prison archives. He described the search for mass graves as “criminal chaos,” particularly due to the lack of forensic teams and adequate laboratory infrastructure. Sweihah also criticized how some media outlets treat the discovery of mass graves as if they were “breaking news scoops.”
Rola Baghdadi, lawyer and director of Dawlati, told Daraj that the Syrian Network for Human Rights has documented the names of approximately 96,000 forcibly disappeared individuals. However, she confirmed the testimonies of the four interviewees regarding the lack of a unified entity to oversee this issue.
Baghdadi noted that some international organizations support associations of families of victims of the Syrian regime, but this support remains limited and has not reached all families. “The issue of the forcibly disappeared requires massive efforts and large institutions. The Independent Institution for Missing Persons is still in the early stages of formation and developing mechanisms to begin its work.”
Baghdadi attributed the lack of preparedness to the rapid and unexpected fall of the Assad regime, leaving little time for prior planning by civil society or even groups like Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham. “Most organizations addressing this issue are based outside Syria, and their efforts remain modest given the enormity of the crisis.” Regarding the chaotic access to regime prisons, Baghdadi did not rule out the possibility that groups linked to Assad intentionally destroyed evidence.
She concluded her remarks to Daraj by emphasizing, “At the very least, misleading news must be stopped.” She referred to two video clips by Fadwa Mahmoud and Diab Sarieh as examples of the need for credible information.
Journalist Sakhr Idris noted the existence of several organizations interested in tracking the cases of detainees and the forcibly disappeared. However, he highlighted the lack of coordination among these groups, which often have similar names and objectives.
Idris, along with colleagues, closely followed detainee cases, particularly during the 2018 sit-in at Hama Central Prison, when detainees demanded the establishment of a “unified information bank.” However, the proposal went unheeded.
Speaking to Daraj, Idris lamented that organizations involved in this issue did not respond to the proposal. While acknowledging the security sensitivity of the matter, he insisted that at the very least, a database should be created to serve families of the disappeared.
Idris also criticized these organizations for monopolizing information, despite receiving international funding intended to make such data publicly accessible. While he did not claim sufficient information exists to answer every question, he pointed out the lack of transparency. Idris also proposed that competition among these organizations might explain their lack of cooperation, which ultimately hinders progress on this critical issue.