Shaaban went on to announce in a loud voice, “The conference will discuss everything of importance to the Syrian citizen. The slogan of this conference is flexibility and steadfastness.” Foreign journalists attending the press conference were already lost, due largely to the fact that no simultaneous translation services were available. Those from major media relied on their “fixers,” or local helpers, to translate all questions and answers. After a few more questions, a foreign journalist asked if translation services could be made available for the press conference, given the number of non-Arabic speakers.
“Today, if the question is in English, I will answer in English,” Shaaban said. “In the next press conference, translations services will be available.”
Shaaban was then asked about Khaddam’s resignation and if it was indeed permanent. Laughing, Shaaban replied, “Well, yesterday at the conference, Khaddam spoke for one hour. When he was asked why his speech took so long, while each person was only allotted five minutes, he replied, ‘Because I am a member in the regional command of the Baath Party.’ So I believe he is still in the party.”
With that strange answer, the ten-minute press conference was over. What did her answer about Khaddam mean? We might have something at 9:30 PM, I guessed. About thirty minutes later, Othaina called me to his desk, excited.
“The all4syria.com news service says there was a fight between Khaddam and Foreign Minister Shara yesterday,” Othaina said. Sure enough, on the screen in front of us were details of the “hour-long speech” Shaaban spoke of. Apparently, Khaddam declared that what Syria needs now is “democracy” and went on for some length about how opening the political system was the best way to confront the country’s problems. Shara, openly miffed at Khaddam’s out-of-turn statements, asked the vice president to submit his criticisms to the political committee for consideration.
But that was not all. After Khaddam’s speech, a member of the political committee, journalist Ali Jamalo, stood up and asked Khaddam some tough questions. “You are calling for democracy,” Jamalo reportedly said. “You were in power for almost forty years…. What did you do for democracy when you were in power? You complain about Syria’s handling of the Lebanon crisis. But you were the one who established Syria’s presence in Lebanon. We want this free market for the economy. Why didn’t you do anything about it? When you call for democracy, it is we, the young blood, that demand democracy. What did you do for forty years? Don’t bring us your faults and frustrations.”
That afternoon, calls continued to come in from foreign correspondents wanting to know about the possibility of meeting or having dinner. Most added the caveat that they would need either to attend or monitor the press conference at 9:30 PM. So I left most appointments open and made plans to be at home to tune into the press conference myself.
In the meantime, I turned on the TV to see which committee proceedings were being broadcast. None was featured; Channel One was running a segment on pets.
At 9:30 PM, Syria satellite TV cut its transmission to cover the press conference. Shaaban began by giving small briefs about the workings of each committee. The economic committee, for example, discussed tourism projects, how to better deal with expatriates, and efforts to combat corruption. Shaaban added that loss-making state companies would be privatized, which was in line with the recommendations of the State Planning Commission. Shaaban went on to say that the political committee was trying to find “a formula for national participation in the framework of national unity” for new political parties. No parties would be tolerated based on religion, sect, or ethnicity.
She then added that the political committee had discussed a new media law that would help “change Syria’s image” abroad. The private sector would be allowed to set up satellite TV and radio stations, Internet services, and other electronic media. Last but not least, Shaaban said the name of the Baath Party would stay the same.
After making her statements, Shaaban was bombarded with questions about Khaddam’s resignation as well as basic questions on what she’d said in her statement.
“My words from earlier today were clear about the VP,” she said. “You will get answers to all your questions. On the final day, we will tell you everything.”
That event was essentially the last major happening until the final press conference on June 9, following the closing ceremony. It did not seem so at the time, so I continued to monitor Syrian TV around 2:30 PM and 9:30 PM each day. The much-promised broadcasts of committee sessions were in fact only ten-minute excerpts and were not worth following, and the first press conference that day was canceled. On June 8, the 9:30 PM press conference was not convened. Those conferences that were held featured no major announcements, other than the creation of the Higher Media Council to help promote media expansion and modernization through greater private-sector participation. And the promised simultaneous translation services at press conferences never appeared.
The net effect of the lack of coherent information coming out of the conference was the inability of any of the army of foreign correspondents to produce stories. In fact, by the end of day two, most didn’t even go to the center. Wire services such as Reuters ran small stories on the decision to privatize loss-making companies, but major newspapers like the New York Times failed to cover the conference. It was, as one correspondent told me, a “missed event.” After all, as most of them argued, how can you write about something you cannot understand?
Cut to 3:30 PM on Thursday, June 9, the conference’s final day. My mobile rang.
“Ministry of Information says the conference ends today,” Othaina said, referring to speculation that the event might drag on until Saturday. “The press conference is scheduled for 7 PM.”
Finally, I thought. Then I engaged in an internal debate about whether to actually attend the conference or not. After a few hours of wavering, I decided not to make the trip out to the media center. I knew very well that the chances the press conference would be delayed, or not held at all, were high. I had a number of journalist friends working for wire services for whom attendance was mandatory, so I asked one of them to call me if something happened. That evening, I sat in my living room reading about the recently returned Lebanese leader Michel Aoun.
I fell asleep around 10:30 PM, papers scattered around me. Around 11:15 PM, my mobile rang. It was my friend—the much-awaited press conference was about to finally happen. I tuned in.
Bouthaina Shaaban strolled out to the press conference table, smiling and greeting people as she sat down. By the look on her face, I could tell the message was going to be short and sweet.
“We have so much ground to cover, it is impossible for me to give you everything now,” Shaaban told those in attendance. So much for her promises all week that everything would be crystal clear at the end.
“These recommendations cover all the life domains,” Shaaban said. “The economic committee took a long time in its deliberations and decided Syria would have a social-market economy. We will have an independent commission to combat corruption in order to attract more Arab and international investment. Women will play a greater role in decisions, and we will form an independent judiciary.”
Shaaban’s statements continued, broad and vague. A new parties law would be issued, but it would be based on “national unity” and would not permit parties based on religion, sect, or ethnicity. Article 8 of the constitution, which says the Baath Party leads the state, was not touched. The emergency law—in place since the Baath Party took power in 1963 (and installed Hafez al-Assad, then a military attaché at Syria’s embassy in Argentina, as chairman of a national council)—would be reviewed with the idea of limiting certain issues to “state security.” Also under review would be the fact that the Kurds in the country were not citizens; thus most of their rights would be granted.
Concerning the party’s powerful “regional command,” the positions of prime minister and speaker of parliament would be held by party members. In the past, only individua
ls were appointed to the regional command. This, Shaaban said, would “enhance relations between the party and the government.” The Higher Media Council would be established to help “correct Syria’s distorted image” abroad. Last but not least, Shaaban said the president was pleased with the conference’s outcome.
Her statements lasted a mere ten minutes. She entertained a few questions from reporters, to which she provided vague answers or said that they would be outlined at a later time. And that was it. I sighed in disgust, switched off the TV, and went to bed. They don’t want to be understood, I thought.
Shaaban’s slogan of “flexibility and steadfastness” in many ways was the correct way to describe the Tenth Baath Party Conference. The Baath Party was not making a great leap forward, as the president seemed to indicate on the eve of Syria’s withdrawal from Lebanon, but was rather simply stretching its boundaries a bit. Since Article 8 of the constitution had not been touched, and whatever political project that was on the way would not be permitted along sectarian, ethnic, or religious lines, the party was standing fast to its principle that Syrians are first and foremost Arabs and would therefore manage things politically as such as long as the Assad regime was in power.
The dreaded emergency law—which justifies anything the state wants to do, including detaining Syrians without charge—would be reviewed, but many questions remained about what “national security” meant in today’s Syria. The definition of “national security” would still remain in the hands of the leadership. Syria’s media sector would continue to be opened up, but all in the name of improving the country’s image. Could such a formula really cultivate a properly functioning fourth estate? Making the prime minister and speaker of parliament members of the regional command seemed significant—or did this move simply guarantee the Baath Party’s hold over the state, even in the event of having an independent prime minister, which was something that has been promised for years?
This was strange behavior for a regime under intense international pressure, which always complained that it was misunderstood. Although perhaps it was not so odd after all, given the situation in Syria. The most important outcome of the conference—the retirement of major political figures—was not emphasized in any way by the regime and in turn was ignored by the Syrian and foreign media.
In many ways, the conference signaled the end of a five-year transition period for the Baath Party, marked by a struggle between the old guard of the late president Hafez al-Assad (commonly referred to as “Bashar’s uncles”) and the “new generation” of the current president. During the transition, the old guard was blamed for hindering President Bashar’s reform efforts, largely through “loyalist networks” that had been formed throughout the senior Assad’s three decades in power. These figures included two vice presidents, Abdel Halim Khaddam and Muhammad Zuheir Masharqa; two longtime regional-command members, Abdullah al-Ahmar and Suleiman Qaddah; former parliamentary speaker Abdul Kader Kaddoura; and former defense minister Mustafa Tlass. Their exit from party life at the conference seemed to have strengthened Bashar al-Assad’s grip on power and the new generation’s ability to carry out reform in the country. The aging foreign minister, Farouk al-Shara, was still around, however, and reportedly he would be appointed vice president soon.
In fact, just as the final conclusions of the conference were finally published in the state daily newspapers five days after the event, the president appointed lead reformer and state planning commission chief Abdullah Dardari as deputy prime minister for economic affairs. A day later, he quietly removed Bahjat Suleiman, head of the powerful general security department. While the Baath Party conference might have been a nonevent itself, something was happening in the darkness behind the scenes of Syrian politics. Perhaps “flexibility and steadfastness” was less a slogan for the conference and more a coded reference to the president’s quiet efforts to wrestle greater control of the regime from the old guard.
Disappointed that the Baath Party conference failed to produce any reforms, the Syrian opposition continued work on the Damascus Declaration. In the summer and early autumn of 2005, negotiations began with Syria’s eight Kurdish parties and the tribal-based Future Party led by Sheikh Nawaf al-Bashir, as well as some of Syria’s most prominent independent opposition figures, including the outspoken Riad Seif, who was in prison at that point.
“Hassan [Abdel-Azim] came to visit in September,” Seif told me in a March 2006 interview. “He is my lawyer, and it was easy for him to see me. We needed to unite the opposition, and he gave me a full picture of the Damascus Declaration. I accepted immediately.”
On October 5 and 6, negotiations with the last group that was holding out on signing the declaration—the ethnically based Assyrian Democratic Organization (ADO)—foundered on the declaration’s references to Islam as the “religion and ideology of the majority” and its mention of the Kurds as the only ethnic “issue” in Syria.
“We were convinced that they mentioned Islam in the document simply to attract Islamists,” said Bashir Ishaq Saadi, secretary-general of the ADO, told me in a February 2006 interview. “Second, we said, ‘Hey, you mentioned Kurdish rights. What about Assyrians?’”
Time was running out, however. In neighboring Lebanon, Detlev Mehlis, the chief UN investigator into the Hariri assassination, was due to give his first report on October 19. Sources quoted in the Lebanese press said the investigation was pointing fingers of blame toward Damascus. “We wanted to announce the declaration before the Mehlis report,” Samir Nashar said. “We didn’t want people to say we were taking advantage.”
To avoid the same kind of leaks that were undermining Mehlis’s investigation, Abdel-Azim kept the only signed copy of the declaration in his pocket. In the end, five parties and eight opposition figures came onboard.13 On October 16, Abdel-Azim held a small press conference in his office to announce the declaration.
“Mukhabarat [intelligence services] showed up,” said Abdel-Azim. “I tried to call the Ministry of Information, but the minister was not in. We had invited the satellite TV channels to cover the event. So I went upstairs and announced it to the world.”
Two hours after the declaration’s announcement, the Muslim Brotherhood—which had been party to the negotiations from the beginning—became the first to sign on to the accord. While Abdel-Azim was unclear with me as to motive, a number of opposition figures told me that he had arranged the timing of the Muslim Brotherhood’s signature so that the Syrian authorities could not say the declaration was spawned by the Brotherhood and therefore subject to the state’s strict ban on the organization.
“Apparently the report [into Hariri’s murder] is going to name names,” my flatmate, Katherine Zoepf, said over coffee on the morning of October 20. Katherine was then in Damascus as a freelance journalist for the New York Times. “We’ve got to talk to some people about this.”
We headed over to the office of Sami Moubayed, a Damascus-based historian educated at the American University in Beirut. While Sami had published a number of books in English on Syrian history, he had also become an analyst on Syrian and regional politics.
When Katherine told him that word out of New York was that the report would finger high-level members of the Syrian regime, Sami looked down and sighed. “This contradicts everything we have been hearing over the past few days…. What we’ve been hearing from sources close to the government is basically that the regime is innocent, but that it will be incriminated nonetheless. Naming the regime as a whole is still much less embarrassing than saying that a particular person is responsible. This changes everything,” Sami said. “The regime’s best-case scenario was going to be that the regime as a whole would be held responsible. Now they are going to be told to hand over Assef Shawkat, and I don’t know if they can actually do that. Assef Shawkat is a very strong man, and it’s not just about the love story between him and Bushra al-Assad [Bashar’s sister]. Shawkat was hated by Hafez and hated by Basel [Bashar’s brother, who died in 1994], and
he’s overcome that. He’s very, very strong. No one ever sees Assef Shawkat. He’s my neighbor, and I’ve only seen him once in my entire life.”
Katherine and I just looked at each other. It was very rare that Syrians, especially analysts, spoke so openly about members of the regime. However, there were plenty of signs of trouble in the Assad family. In the days leading up to the investigation announcement, former Syrian intelligence chief in Lebanon Ghazi Kanaan and the current interior minister had committed “suicide” in his office. As the de facto viceroy of Lebanon for years, many suspected his involvement in Hariri’s murder, and most I met doubted that he had committed suicide.
“With Ghazi Kanaan and Assef Shawkwat gone, this completely breaks the power of the Alawi community in Syria,” Sami continued. “They will never arrest Assef. Syria will have to simply say that this report is political and that we are innocent. This is going to be really terrible. If Syria does not respond, there could be more sanctions. There’s no telling what might happen. When you’ve got someone like Assef Shawkat who is so powerful in his own right, you can’t arrest him.”14
As Katherine filed her quotes to New York, I jumped on the Internet to see if a soft copy of the report was available. After two hours of searching, I gave up looking and helped Katherine prepare dinner for a party we were hosting that evening for Hugh and Joshua Landis, an American professor from Oklahoma University on a Fulbright in Syria to turn his dissertation into a book. Joshua was particularly attuned to the thinking of the Alawite sect via his marriage to the daughter of an Alawite admiral in the Syrian Navy. Joshua spent most of his time working on his blog, Syria Comment. Several times a week, he would blog on things he was hearing around Damascus—everything from the Hariri investigation to reform.
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