http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/middle_east/syrias-civil-war-tests-whether-borders-drawn-less-than-a-century-ago-will-last/2013/12/26/6718111c-68e2-11e3-997b-9213b17dac97_story.html


Syria’s civil war tests whether borders drawn less than a century ago will 
last

View Photo Gallery — Will Syrian war end century-old borders in the Middle 
East?: Less than 100 years after boundaries were drawn in the Middle East, 
the durability of those borders — and the nations they formed — is being 
tested as never before. The sectarian war in Syria is spilling into Iraq, 
Lebanon, Turkey, Jordan and Israel.

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By Liz Sly, Friday, December 27, 2:30 AM E-mail the writer
AL-QASR, Lebanon — That half of his farm lies in Syria and half in Lebanon 
is a source of mystery and inconvenience for Mohammed al-Jamal, whose 
family owned the property long before Europeans turned up and drew the 
lines that created the borders of the modern Middle East.

Jamal has mostly ignored the invisible frontier that runs a few yards from 
his house — and so did the Syrian civil war when it erupted nearby. 
Relatives were kidnapped, neighbors volunteered to fight and shells came 
crashing in, killing some of his cows, injuring three workers and 
underlining just how meaningless the border is.

Graphic




to divide up the remnants of the collapsing Ottoman Empire. The result was 
the creation of nation-states where none had existed before, cutting 
across family and community ties and laying the foundations for much of 
the instability that plagues the region to this day.

Less than a century after they were drawn, the durability of those 
borders — and the nations they formed — is being tested as never before. 
The war in Syria is spilling into Iraq, Lebanon, Turkey, Jordan and 
Israel, sucking in places that for centuries belonged to a single entity 
and people whose history, faith and livelihoods transcend the nations in 
which they were born.

Sunnis from across the region are pouring into Syria to fight alongside 
the rebels, many in pursuit of extremist ideals aimed at restoring Sunni 
dominion. Shiites from the same countries are flocking to defend President 
Bashar al-Assad’s Shiite-affiliated regime, compounding the sectarian 
dimension of a war that no longer is just about Syria.

Civilians are fleeing in the opposite direction, 2.3 million of them to 
date, transforming communities lying outside Syria in ways that may be 
irreversible.

“From Iran to Lebanon, there are no borders anymore,” said Walid Jumblatt, 
the leader of Lebanon’s minority Druze community. “Officially, they are 
still there, but will they be a few years from now? If there is more 
dislocation, the whole of the Middle East will crumble.”

Nobody seriously expects existing borders to be formally redrawn as a 
result of the ongoing upheaval. But as world powers prepare to gather in 
Switzerland next month for talks aimed at ending the Syrian conflict, this 
is a moment every bit as profound as the one that followed World War I 
when the region’s nations were born, said Fawaz Gerges of the London 
School of Economics.

Already the chaos of Syria’s civil war has muddled the map, creating new 
frontiers that more closely coincide with the communities they contain. 
Four flags now fly over the territory known as Syria, representing the 
competing visions of sect, identity and allegiance that the war has 
exposed — and the pieces into which it might break.

The outcome could be further fragmentation of the existing states, or 
perhaps a longer-term consolidation that blurs the borders dividing them, 
Gerges said.

“Everything is in question now, and it is all very difficult to predict,” 
he said. “But what we are realizing is that the Middle East state system 
set up after World War I is coming apart.”

‘Sectarian borders are real’

The Middle East that eventually emerged from World War I bore little 
resemblance to the one laid out in the Sykes-Picot agreement, named for 
the British and French diplomats who bisected the region from east to west 
at a meeting in London.

But the line-drawing endeavor set the tone for the exercise in 
nation-making that came next. To this day, it is Sykes-Picot that is 
recalled and condemned by those living in the shadow of its consequences.

Plans for an independent Arab homeland were dropped. Instead, the British 
assumed full control over the territory corresponding to Iraq, Jordan, 
Palestine and later Israel. The French took Syria and carved from it 
Lebanon as a sanctuary for Christians, a loss that Syria has never 
formally accepted.

One of the borders they drew cut through al-Qasr, among numerous small 
farming villages dotting the lush fertile land fed by the streams of Mount 
Hermel in the remote northeastern corner of Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley.

The overwhelmingly Shiite community proclaims its allegiances with 
portraits of Syria’s Assad and Iran’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali 
Khamenei, strung alongside those of the only Lebanese figure featured — 
Hasan Nasrallah, leader of the Hezbollah militant group. Shop windows are 
plastered with photographs of the men of the village who have died 
fighting in Syria for Hezbollah, whose contribution has proved key to a 
string of recent victories by Assad’s government.

“We never had borders between us. We consider ourselves one territory,” 
said Mohammed Shamas, 22, whose shop adjoins the border. “But a long time 
ago, the French came and drew these lines.”

More real for the residents here is the unmarked boundary that divides the 
Shiite villages in the foothills of Mount Hermel from the closest Sunni 
town, Arsal, which has been transformed by the revolt in Syria into a hub 
for the opposition. Tucked high in stony mountains 25 miles away, its 
streets teem with Syrian refugees, Syrian rebels, ambulances ferrying 
wounded Syrian fighters from the front lines and taxis plying the route to 
the nearest Syrian town, Yabroud.

Few people here travel the opposite direction, toward Lebanese towns, 
fearful after a spate of abductions and killings between the Lebanese 
Shiite and Sunni communities fueled in part by the Syrian war.

“We consider this place more Syrian than Lebanese,” said Abu Omar, an 
Arsal resident who runs a small clinic helping wounded fighters and did 
not want his real name to be used because he fears trouble from Lebanese 
authorities over his activities. He takes his family shopping to 
rebel-­held Yabroud, notwithstanding shelling and airstrikes, because he 
would not dare move deeper into Lebanon. “The sectarian borders are real,” 
he said.

Jamal, the Shiite farmer whose property straddles the Syrian border, does 
all of his shopping in the Syrian town of Homs, not because he fears the 
journey to other Shiite towns but because Homs is cheaper and more 
convenient. “I would never go to Arsal. There they are all takfiris,” he 
said, referring to Sunni extremists.

“They made sure when those borders were drawn to maintain trouble between 
us forever,” he added. “It was on purpose.”

Reshaping the map

Similar undrawn boundaries are starting to take shape all over the region 
as the civil war enters its third year.

In the desert lands between the Euphrates and Tigris rivers — the 
Mesopotamia of ancient history — the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria is 
extending its reach into Syria and Iraq, flying the al-
Qaeda flag on both sides of the border. Its aim of restoring the Sunni 
Muslim caliphate has drawn Sunni volunteers from across the region.

In Syria’s far northeast, Kurds have declared autonomy in areas, raising 
the Kurdish flag and stirring hopes of independence for a community that 
lost out when the post-World War I map was made.

Assad loyalists, bolstered by the influx of Shiite volunteers from Lebanon 
and Iraq, are consolidating their hold on a spine of territory stretching 
from Damascus, the capital, to the coast, where most of the Shiite-
affiliated Alawite minority lives, sustaining the reach of the two-starred 
Syrian flag of the four-
decade-old Baathist regime.

In each location, massacres and persecutions of sects that find themselves 
on the wrong side of the lines are corroding the diversity that 
historically characterized Syria. Christians and Alawites are fleeing 
rebel-held areas, Sunnis who sympathize with the rebels are escaping 
government-controlled ones, swarming into Lebanon, Turkey, Jordan and Iraq 
with little indication that they will be able to go home anytime soon.

And over each dominion, foreign powers hold sway, sponsoring their 
proteges with money and weapons to further their own advantage. Saudi 
Arabia, Qatar and other states of the Persian Gulf back the Islamist 
rebels; Iran and Russia support the government, echoing the big-power 
rivalry that shaped the map a century ago.

The United States and Europe stand behind the fourth flag flying over 
Syria, the three-starred one adopted by the original, more-moderate 
proponents of the revolt, who sought to replace Assad’s dictatorship with 
a democracy. But without much in the way of funding or arms, theirs is the 
flag whose space is shrinking the fastest.

What is the solution?

Yet partition, which is where the dislocation inevitably seems to be 
heading, is an outcome that few people say they are willing to 
countenance, aside from the Kurds, who have long coveted a state of their 
own.

Although rulers have failed to translate nation-states into viable 
entities, most people have embraced the identities of the countries in 
which they live, said Malik Abdeh, a Syrian opposition writer based in 
London.

“It is the failure of political elites to offer any kind of vision that 
transcends sects that sustains sectarianism,” he said. “Notions of the 
nation-state are still very strong, even if the reality doesn’t correlate 
with prevailing ideals.”

Even the war’s brutality speaks to the intent of all the factions to win 
the conflict outright, with government forces routinely bombarding the 
rebel-held areas of the north from which their troops were ejected long 
ago, and rebels sustaining their pressure on Damascus with new offensives.

At a Hezbollah office in Hermel, the Shiite town that administers al-Qasr, 
an official who spoke on the condition of anonymity because he is not 
authorized to talk to the news media denounced the fragmenting landscape 
as an American plot to split the Arab world into weak, divided statelets 
to affirm Israel as the region’s most powerful country.

It is not what he or other Shiites want.

“If sectarian enclaves were allowed to happen, Christians would be a 
minority; Shiites and Alawites would be a minority in a sea of Sunnis,” 
the official said.

Sunnis suspect a similar plot but blame the British, a throwback to the 
betrayal of their hopes for independence after British army officer T.E. 
Lawrence, a.k.a. Lawrence of Arabia, helped lead the Arab revolt against 
the Turks. They, too, fear the consequences of a new divide that would 
confine them to the region’s desert heart.

“If Syria is partitioned, there will be war for 100 years to come,” said 
Abu Zeid, 37, a Syrian refugee from Damascus who runs a restaurant in 
Arsal. “The Alawites will have the coast, the Kurds will have the oil, and 
the Sunnis will be in the middle with nothing. The only solution is to 
share everything.”

The challenge in the Geneva peace talks between the Syrian opposition and 
the regime will be to produce an agreement on a new form of governance 
that will end the fighting. If it fails, further fragmentation seems 
inevitable, said Hilal Khashan, a professor of political science at the 
American University of Beirut.

Over time, however, greater decentralization, in which local communities 
have more say over their affairs, may produce fairer and more stable 
societies, he said, describing “a sort of umbrella of nations where 
different groups enjoy their own culture and way of life.”

For the region’s borders to disappear “would be like utopia,” said Issam 
Bleibeh, the deputy mayor of Hermel, as he sat mulling ways the war might 
end with a group of friends at his home in the little town, whose streets, 
like those of nearby al-Qasr, are lined with photographs of the dead.

They failed to think of one.

“The wars will change, but there will always be wars,” Bleibeh said. “One 
day it could be Muslim-Christian, then Shiite-Sunni, then Sunni-Sunni. The 
only certainty is that there will always be wars.”

But, he added quickly, “of course, that’s not a solution. We need to find 
a way to sit together, to talk together, to find a way to live together.”


Suzan Haidamous and Ahmed Ramadan contributed to this report.

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