A Hope More Powerful Than the Sea

Hanaa knew that she would be in for a battle if she tried to stop Doaa from going out, and deep down she was proud of her daughter’s courage and determination to be part of the revolution that could change Syria, so she let her go.

With the passing days, Hanaa noticed a transformation in Doaa. Instead of being shy and fearful and always resistant to change, Doaa now embraced it. Her enthusiasm would fill the air as she recounted stories about where she had marched that day and what had happened along the way.

Shokri would listen to Doaa’s stories with dread. He was terrified for his daughters. He had heard stories circulating of women being stripped and raped by security men in front of their families. Others had simply disappeared. This was his worst nightmare, and he felt choked with worry as he left for work each day, leaving the girls and Hanaa alone.

When Shokri was home, he insisted that the girls stay inside at all times except to go to school. But Doaa fought his instructions. “Baba, you tell us that we have to stand up for our rights, and yet you won’t let us go out and join the demonstrations,” she complained.

Shokri shook his head. “It’s my job to protect you and your sisters. Leave the demonstrations to the men of this city.” He began insisting that Hanaa keep everyone home while he was off at work. But Doaa was defiant. She cried and sulked, refusing to eat or speak for days. She felt useless stuck inside the house.

Several times when Doaa was feeling particularly restless, she snuck out to join a demonstration. Shokri was furious when he discovered that she was missing, but he could do little. Eventually he gave up on trying to keep her in the house away from danger. Doaa’s stubborn will simply outmatched his own.

The protests became part of daily life in the neighborhood. Men, women, and children came together to participate or watch. Doaa often bumped into cousins and school friends, and whenever she saw her closest friends, Amal and another friend who was also named Doaa, she would grab their hands and they would sing, chant, and march together in unison.

On March 30, 2011, President Assad gave a speech to parliament, addressing for the first time the unrest swallowing his country. As he walked into the chamber, members of parliament stood, enthusiastically clapping and chanting in a loud chorus, “God, Syria, and Bashar.” As Doaa watched the coverage of the speech that night on the evening news, she held out hope that he was about to give in to the protesters’ demands. Instead, while he admitted the deaths in Daraa had happened, he referred to them as isolated cases and a “mistake.” Every citizen, he noted, has complaints, and his government was working to resolve them. But now, he warned, “conspirators” were at work pushing an “Israeli agenda” that was influencing those who had taken to the streets in good faith. He called those behind this conspiracy “foreign agents,” labeled the demonstrators “terrorists,” and claimed that the Arab satellite television channels were part of the scheme that was “creating chaos under the pretext of reform.” He did announce that he might consider some changes to the system, but only after the country had returned to stability and the economy had improved. He claimed that the videos and photos the media were broadcasting to their audiences—showing government forces subduing civilians—were fake, and he pledged that he would not give in to the demands of those he considered terrorists. The prime minister, looking on, chanted, “God, Syria, and Bashar,” in agreement.

Doaa was confused as she watched the broadcast. When Assad was talking about “terrorists,” was he referring to her friends, family, and neighbors? We are not terrorists! she thought adamantly. But when it came to the shooting of unarmed demonstrators in Daraa, all Assad would say was that “mistakes” had been made and that “not all the demonstrators were conspirators.” He wouldn’t condemn the acts of brutal repression that were carried out by the security forces. At that moment Doaa realized that the struggle was just beginning and her country was coming apart.

Melissa Fleming's books