The Dawn of Horror in Al-Haffa
The violence erupted at dawn on Friday in the coastal town of al-Haffa, Syria, as gunfire shattered the morning calm. Wala, a 29-year-old resident, describes the chaos: she leaped from her bed to the corner of her room, flattening herself against the wall as the sound of gunshots grew louder outside her window. When she cautiously peeked through the curtains, she saw dozens of people fleeing down the street, many still in their pajamas, as four men in forest-green uniforms chased them. The men opened fire, and within seconds, four of the fleeing individuals collapsed to the ground. Wala recounts her terror, expressing disbelief at the brutality unfolding before her eyes. She asked to be identified only by her first name, fearing retribution for speaking out.
The attack on al-Haffa was part of a wave of violence that swept across Syria’s Mediterranean coast over four days, resulting in over 1,000 deaths, according to the Syrian Observatory for Human Rights. This is the bloodiest outbreak of violence since rebels overthrew former dictator Bashar al-Assad in early December, leaving the country fractured after nearly 14 years of civil war. The unrest began on Thursday when armed men loyal to Mr. al-Assad ambushed government security forces in Latakia Province, where al-Haffa is located. The ambush sparked days of clashes between Assad loyalists and government forces, plunging the region into chaos.
Civilians Bear the Brunt of the Violence
The Syrian Observatory for Human Rights reported that approximately 700 civilians were among the over 1,000 dead, with most killed by government forces. At least 65 civilians were killed in al-Haffa alone. Another war monitoring group, the Syrian Network for Human Rights, reported that government security forces had killed an estimated 125 civilians. While these claims could not be independently verified, they underscore the staggering toll of the violence on innocent civilians.
Officials from the new government denied accusations that security forces had committed atrocities but stated their commitment to investigating the claims and holding anyone responsible for harming civilians accountable. However, the violence has deepened fears of a larger sectarian conflict in Syria, particularly in the coastal provinces of Latakia and Tartus, which are strongholds of the Alawite minority. This region has historically been the heartland of the Assad family and the ruling class, and the new government, formed by a coalition of rebels led by an Islamist Sunni Muslim group, faces significant challenges in asserting control over this fractured landscape.
A Region on Edge
By Saturday, the highway from Damascus to Tartus was nearly empty, as authorities attempted to seal off traffic into the coastal region. Government security forces set up checkpoints along the main roads into Tartus city, the provincial capital, where most shops were closed, and many residents remained hunkered down in their homes. Shadi Ahmed Khodar, a 47-year-old Alawite resident of Tartus, expressed his fears: while he does not support the Assad loyalists who have taken up arms against the new government, he is terrified that security forces will no longer distinguish between armed loyalists and innocent civilians like himself, a crane operator who once worked for the Assad government. “Maybe they will just come here and say we are against them and kill us,” he said, echoing the widespread panic in the region.
The violence has yet to subside, and by late Saturday afternoon, government forces at a checkpoint were warning drivers of gunmen ambushing cars traveling along the coast toward Latakia. “We’re just in the shallow water,” Mr. Khodar said. “We haven’t reached the depths yet.” His words capture the sense of dread that pervades the region, as residents fear the worst is yet to come.
Terror in Baniyas
In Baniyas, a town on the northern tip of Tartus Province, the violence reached new heights of horror. Armed men, appearing to be aligned with the government, stormed into the town’s predominantly Alawite neighborhoods late on Thursday night, according to four residents. Ghaith Moustafa, a 30-year-old pharmacist, described how he, his wife, Hala Hamed, and their 2-month-old son huddled behind their front door for most of Friday and Saturday, the only spot in their small apartment not near any windows. Early on Friday morning, he heard the sound of shooting grow louder as armed men approached his building. Then, he heard shouts, gunfire, and screams coming from the apartment below his. He later learned that his downstairs neighbors had been killed.
“I was so scared for my baby, for my wife,” Mr. Moustafa said in a telephone interview. “She was so afraid. I didn’t know how to not show her that I was also afraid for us.” When the gunfire subsided around 2 p.m. on Saturday, Mr. Moustafa and his family fled their apartment and sought shelter at a friend’s house in a nearby neighborhood that had been spared much of the violence. The journey was harrowing: every few meters, a body lay on the ground, with blood stains smeared across the pavement. Storefront windows were shattered, and many shops appeared to have been looted.
The Syrian Observatory reported that at least 60 civilians, including five children, were killed in Baniyas. “I’m shocked, I’m just shocked,” said Mr. Moustafa, who, by Saturday evening, could think only of leaving. “We have to get out of here as soon as possible,” he added. “It’s not safe, not at all safe.” He was among hundreds of people who fled Baniyas on Saturday, many seeking shelter with friends who were not Alawite, hoping to avoid further violence.
Humanitarian Crisis and Uncertain Future
The scale of the violence has left civilians reeling, with entire communities displaced and countless lives lost. Wala, the al-Haffa resident who witnessed the shooting, described how security personnel knocked down the front door of her apartment, about an hour after government forces entered her town. A friend visiting from Idlib, where many of the rebels who overthrew Mr. al-Assad originated, pleaded with the men not to shoot. “She said, ‘I am from Idlib. All my family is from Idlib. Please don’t do anything to these people. They are peaceful family,’” Wala recounted. The men demanded her friend’s phone, yelled at Wala to open her safe, and took her mother’s gold necklace and earrings. Before leaving, they warned the family not to leave the house.
Wala and her relatives defied the order about an hour later, when they heard someone pleading for help in the street. Outside, she found two men who had been shot—one covered in blood and barely able to speak, the other shot in the thigh and begging for water. By Saturday evening, Wala did not know whether either man had survived.
The humanitarian crisis unfolding in Syria’s coastal regions is dire, with displaced civilians, destroyed infrastructure, and a growing sense of hopelessness. The fear of further violence and the breakdown of trust between communities threaten to plunge the country into even greater instability. As the violence continues, the international community is left to grapple with the implications of this latest escalation in Syria’s long and brutal conflict.
