Raqqa, former Islamic State stronghold, faces regime change in Syria under shadow of Turkey

The entrance to Raqqa is eerie. The skeletons of buildings destroyed during the war against the jihadist group Islamic State (ISIS), mixed with new structures still to be completed, can be seen in the dim moonlight that marks their silhouettes. It looks like a scene from a horror film. On the first main street of this Syrian city, in territory controlled by the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF, a Kurdish-Arab militia), several vans have parked, guarded by men in balaclavas and without uniforms. They raise their weapons when they see the only car passing through during the curfew, which begins at sunset and ends at dawn. “Who are you?” they ask angrily. The translator replies: “They are foreign journalists; they’re trying to get to the hotel,” and the masked men allow the group to continue on their way. Tensions are high throughout the city as citizens fear a large-scale incursion by Turkey, the sworn enemy of the Kurdish militias in the region.

A few meters away, after crossing a vast square, the convoy comes across an American armored personnel carrier, similar to those used during the SDF’s battle to retake Raqqa, the de facto capital of the Islamic State between 2013 and 2017, from the jihadists. The military vehicle has a deafening siren on, and its powerful spotlight illuminates the darkness of the pitch-black city. As the steel monster moves away, the roar of a fighter jet echoes through the city.

At night, Raqqa looks like Kabul in Afghanistan, or Baghdad in Iraq, at their worst. But when the sun comes up, the city seems renewed. Years have passed since it was the scene of jihadist horror; today, life makes its way through the crowded streets, and early in the morning, shops raise their shutters and traffic fills the city. There is a significant difference compared to the days before the fall of the Bashar al-Assad regime: fear has increased of an attack by the Turkish army and its allies, such as the Syrian National Army, which in recent weeks has seized territory in northern Syria from the SDF, including strategic cities such as Manbij and Tell Rifaat. The Syrian Kurdish civil administration (Rojava), which during the civil war managed to establish a semi-autonomous region in the northeast of the country, and which controls more than a third of Syrian territory, has warned in recent days that Ankara intends to “occupy all Syrian territory and annex it.” Various sources suggest that a Turkish offensive could be imminent.

At a time when the new Syrian interim government is trying to stabilize the country, both Israel in the Golan Heights and Turkey in areas controlled by the SDF have begun to launch strikes, claiming to ensure their own security. The Wall Street Journal on Tuesday quoted senior U.S. officials as saying that Turkish forces have begun massing pro-Turkish soldiers and militiamen, as well as countless artillery pieces, near Kobani, a border town with Turkey and the first major town to be captured from ISIS by the U.S.-backed Kurds in 2015, just months after it was occupied by the jihadists.

The SDF maintains its alliance with the United States in the fight against the remnants of Islamic State in Syria. Under that support, U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken traveled to Turkey last week to seek assurances that Ankara would scale back operations against Kurdish fighters. But U.S.-brokered ceasefire talks between Syrian Kurds and Turkey-backed rebels in Kobani collapsed on Monday without a deal. Ankara argues that both the party that governs the autonomous Kurdish entity in Syria and the militias in that region are linked to the outlawed Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), and are therefore terrorists who cannot be part of the transition process after the fall of the regime.

What has changed in Raqqa, and across Syria, is the number of refugees arriving in recent days. The first were housed in the dreaded football stadium, once used by Islamic State as a prison and torture center. It has now been converted into a primary temporary accommodation center, but mainly a food storage and distribution point. Bashir, the head of a local NGO that delivers food daily to the schools where most of the refugees are now relocated, says: “We are a group of civilians, educated people from Raqqa helping others.”

In a former restaurant, around 20 people work preparing food rations that will then be distributed to various schools. Ahmed is in charge of one of the delivery vans and parks it in front of one of these educational centers. Bashir opens the sliding door of the vehicle to take out a huge pot of rice and some meat. Then he dips a large ladle into the van and fills, one by one, the plates of the people who are crowding around to receive their only daily meal. “Every day it’s like this,” says Ahmed, the driver.

Andre, the SDF commander in the area, is in the only church that has now been rebuilt in Raqqa. “ISIS destroyed it during the war. They tore down the cross and used it as a barracks,” he explains, pointing to an oil painting hanging on one of the walls depicting the half-destroyed building. “There are many ISIS sleeper cells active in Raqqa, which is why we are spread out in different houses,” he adds.

Under the bombs in Kobani

Kobani is another of the strategic cities whose future is uncertain. In fact, it is half-empty, many of its inhabitants having fled for fear of Turkish fighter planes. “We suffer about 20 bombings a day,” says Salah, the police chief of Kobani. “In addition, there are active ISIS cells, not inside the city, but in its surroundings,” says the officer, who has taken refuge in a basement to protect himself from possible drone attacks. “If you want to leave today, you cannot travel at night; it’s not safe,” he says.

Meanwhile, the former refugee camp has disappeared and the small remaining population has been almost entirely evacuated. “You can drive through the flag gate, but don’t stop, because you might get shot,” warns one resident. He is referring to the metal fence that marks the border between the Kurdish stronghold and Turkey, from which a large Turkish flag can be seen at the end.

Meanwhile, funerals are taking place daily in this Kurdish city. On Saturday, eight soldiers were killed in a drone attack and buried in the main cemetery. In the distance, a van playing music and chanting preceded eight ambulances driving around with their sirens on. Inside each of them, the wife, mother, and daughters of each of the soldiers cried inconsolably for their recent loss. Once the ambulances stopped at the entrance to the cemetery, a group of men carried the coffins along an avenue that ends at a pulpit. There they deposited the mortal remains and the funeral ceremony began. At that moment, grief broke out among the attendees, who screamed and cried for the loss of their loved ones.

There are still many unknowns on the Syrian chessboard, but one of the main ones is whether the Kurdish-Syrian militias will maintain control of Raqqa, Kobani, and the prisons where between 10,000 and 12,000 ISIS members are held, as well as the Al-Roj and Al-Hawl camps, where their wives and relatives are, as well as 25,000 children and adolescents.

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