From: The Washington Post
By Liz Sly October 20, 2014
REYHANLI, Turkey — The cost
of turning against the Islamic State was made brutally apparent in the
streets of a dusty backwater town in eastern Syria in early August. Over
a three-day period, vengeful fighters shelled, beheaded, crucified and
shot hundreds of members of the Shaitat tribe after they dared to rise
up against the extremists.
By the time the killing
stopped, 700 people were dead, activists and survivors say, making this
the bloodiest single atrocity committed by the Islamic State in Syria
since it declared its existence 18 months ago.
The
little-publicized story of this failed tribal revolt in Abu Hamam, in
Syria’s eastern Deir al-Zour province, illuminates the challenges that
will confront efforts to persuade those living under Islamic State rule —
in Iraq as well as Syria — to join the fight against the jihadist
group, something U.S. officials say is essential if the campaign against
the militants is to succeed.
The Abu Hamam area has now been abandoned, and many of the
bodies remain uncollected, offering a chilling reminder to residents
elsewhere of the fate that awaits those who dare rebel.
Just
as powerful a message for those living under the militants’ iron fist
was the almost complete international silence on the bloodbath.
News of the massacre coincided with President Obama’s
decision to order airstrikes to turn back an Islamic State advance
unfolding farther east in Iraq, toward the Kurdish regional capital of
Irbil, as well as humanitarian airdrops to help desperate Iraqi Yazidis
trapped on a mountain by the onslaught.
Many Syrians in the opposition are starting to complain about unequal treatment.
U.S.
warplanes have carried out more airstrikes on Islamic State forces
besieging the Kurdish town of Kobane on Syria’s border with Turkey than
on any other single location in Iraq or Syria. And Washington announced
Sunday that U.S. planes had airdropped weapons and medical supplies to
the beleaguered Kurdish fighters there.
Yet even now,
Washington has directed little effort toward helping Sunni Arabs who
want to fight the militants but lack the resources to do so, said Abu
Salem, who was among the Shaitat tribesman and rebel commanders who
gathered recently in an apartment in the Turkish border town of Reyhanli
to recount the killings of their clansmen.
“We
saw what the Americans did to help the Yazidis and the Kurds. But they
have done nothing to help the Sunnis against the Islamic State,” he
said.
Abu Salem and the other men said they did not so
much begrudge the efforts to help Kurds as wonder why no one had helped
them when their community was under attack. The carnage inflicted on the
Shaitat tribe has instilled in the Abu Hamam survivors a loathing for
the Islamic State and the warped brand of Islamist politics for which it
stands, said Abu Siraj, another of the tribesmen. A former lawyer, he,
like most of the men, asked to be identified only by his nom de guerre
because he fears being tracked even to Turkey by the jihadists.
“Now we hate everyone who prays,” he said. “Now we hate even beards.”
But finding support for efforts to organize against the
militants is proving hard, he said, pulling out his mobile phone to show
a photograph released that day of the trussed, decapitated body of a
friend who had purportedly been caught attempting to throw a hand
grenade against them.
“When you see your relatives being
slaughtered, you will be forced to accept compromises you would
otherwise never have been prepared to accept,” he said. “And when you
see the world has abandoned you, you will do nothing about it.”
U.S.
officials say the Kobane attacks were not intended to show preference
for one community over another, but rather served as an opportunity to
take aim at the large number of militant fighters who converged on the
town to capture it. The Pentagon claims to have killed hundreds of
Islamic State militants around Kobane, in keeping with the wider U.S.
goal of targeting the Islamists’ infrastructure and resources in Syria
to downgrade their ability to reinforce and finance their operations in
Iraq.
The primary focus of the American strategy, Gen. Lloyd
Austin, the U.S. Central Command leader, stressed last week, remains on
Iraq, and on preventing the Islamic State from projecting power there.
“Iraq
is our main effort, and it has to be,” he said at a news conference in
Washington. “And the things we are doing right now in Syria are being
done primarily to shape the conditions in Iraq.”
Such
comments have reinforced perceptions among Syrians that the U.S.-led air
war does not have their interests at heart. Differences over the
purposes and direction of the war risk alienating the many rebel groups
that were engaged in battling the Islamic State before the U.S.
government intervened, said Steven Heydemann of the U.S. Institute of
Peace.
“It’s already become an impediment,” he said. “I
don’t think the administration has fully taken on board how much damage
the way they’ve conducted this campaign has done to the relationships
they’ve developed with some of these actors.”
‘We were finished’
The Sunni areas of Syria occupied by the Islamic State would
seem to be a more likely venue for a revolt than Iraq, where the
extremists’ extensive territorial gains this year were aided by local
Sunni insurgents and tribes alienated by the discriminatory behavior of
the Shiite-led Iraqi government.
In Syria, however, the
Islamic State’s conquests came at the expense of local rebels who
already had fought to eject their government and then found themselves
outgunned and outmaneuvered by the newly emerging Islamist extremists.
The Shaitat tribe, along with many others in the oil-rich
province of Deir al-Zour bordering Iraq, spent much of this year
battling to retain control of their area against encroachments by the
Islamic State, and they might have prevailed had the Islamic State not
swept into the Iraqi city of Mosul in June, rebels say. The vast amounts
of U.S. weaponry the Islamic State captured were trundled across the
rapidly dissolving border with Syria, said Abu Salem, who commanded a
rebel battalion in the area before he escaped to Turkey.
“After they took Mosul, we were finished,” he said.
Abu
Hamam and a cluster of villages nearby were targeted. After the new
armaments from Iraq arrived, “we realized we had no hope. We were
surrounded. We wanted to save our people,” said Abu Abdullah, another of
the Shaitat fighters, describing how they agreed to a truce with the
militants in mid-July.
The Islamic State was permitted to enter the town and establish a garrison, but local leaders were left in charge, he said.
Relations
quickly frayed. The crunch came, the tribesmen in Reyhanli said, when
Islamic State fighters whipped a local man who was caught smoking a
cigarette in the street, a crime under the Islamic State’s harsh
interpretation of Islam. The man’s brother, incensed, shot at a passing
Islamic State patrol, killing one of its fighters.
The
brother was arrested and publicly beheaded, triggering an outpouring of
rage. Residents marched on the Islamic State’s headquarters, forcing its
fighters to flee. The militants then brought in reinforcements and
began shelling the town, using artillery they had captured the previous
month in Iraq.
After a three-day barrage, the Islamic State militants moved
in. They rounded up all the surviving men and boys older than 15 they
could find and set about systematically killing them, the fighters in
Reyhanli said.
A photo essay on an Islamic State blog
boasted of the different ways tribesmen were killed, including
beheadings, mass shootings and a crucifixion. A video shows how the
militants lined up scores of captives on a road, their hands bound, then
set about clumsily decapitating them, one by one. The executioners,
speaking in Tunisian, Egyptian and Saudi accents, taunted those not yet
dead by swinging severed heads in front of their faces and telling them,
“It’s your turn next.”
The tribesmen in Reyhanli, like
many other rebel fighters in Deir al-Zour now living in Turkey or
elsewhere in Syria, said they managed to slip away using fake identity
cards or escape routes honed during their battle against the government.
They said they are plotting their return, to take revenge and fight — without counting on international support.
“We
are tribal people. We will never forget to avenge,” said Abu Salem, the
commander of the group. “But we will do it by ourselves, in our own
way. We won’t take any help from anyone.”
God bless,
JohnnyD