Syria: There is hope and this is what it looks like

Sometimes it feels like everything tends towards ruin. This week, we were reminded just how false that is.

Photo by saira ahmed on Unsplash

He looks up and he feels the sun on his face and he smiles. A tiny, barely-perceptible, uncertain hint of a smile. A smile that - from this man, with this face - does not look natural. It seems to almost crack his face, like some long-encrusted sediment is fissuring along the surface, exposing something nestled safely inside. It is the first time he has been outside in months. "Oh my God, there is light," he says. "Oh my God, there is light."

He was a prisoner of Bashar al-Assad's regime, found in a cell by a CNN team and a rebel fighter. You can watch the report here. You should watch it. It's the most remarkable thing you'll see this week, or indeed any other.

As he sits under the sky, he is told that the government has collapsed. The torture camps are gone. The secret police are gone. "Syria is free," the rebel says. "Are you serious?" he asks. And then he looks at the man with an expression which simply cannot be defined.

It is relief, and bafflement, and newfound innocence, and the first hesitant vulnerable expression of hope. In that expression there is everything politics can be. There is every decent sentiment and honourable motivation of the political mission. His face represents the aspirations of centuries of liberal struggle. If someone were to ask what liberalism is - what it wants, what it aspires towards - it is the face of that man, in that moment. I can't remember the last time I saw something so beautiful.

We forget now, but it all started in Syria. In a way, Syria is the origin story of the world we live in today. This is before 2016 and the double whammy of Brexit and Donald Trump. It was before 2014 and Vladimir Putin's invasion of the Crimea. It was back in March 2011, when popular discontent with Assad's regime exploded into pro-democracy protests, then morphed into a military insurgency, then became a civil war.

It was one of the first moments in which we saw the full force of Russia's disinformation tactic. It was targeted against the White Helmets - volunteers who worked to save people in the war zone. They were a threat to Moscow, because their helmet cameras showed the people massacred by Putin’s air strikes.

Russian groups seeded the idea that they faked photos of the bombing victims. Russia Today journalists invented stories that they "recycled" victims. And behind a desk in a Russian city somewhere, some cunt who has never risked anything to save anyone worked to destroy the reputation of those who had.

I remember mentioning the White Helmets on Twitter in this period and getting this endless wave of mocking commentary in response, from the far-right and the far-left. Moscow's useful idiots, eagerly eating up whatever narrative the Kremlin fed them and then defecating it out into the world. I remember feeling a sudden sense of uncertainty, an anxiety that maybe I had missed something and embarrassed myself, that perhaps there was more to this group than there seemed. My first contact with a post-truth attack.

This, of course, was precisely what they wanted me to feel. Kremlin conspiracies are not designed to convince you of their position. They're simply designed to make you question the objective truth, to fling your hands in the air and say it's all too complicated, to imagine some kind of moral equivalence between the murderer and the rescuer. To detach your moral connection. To quell your moral fire. To pour water upon it. To forget about that man in a basement prison, who has not seen the sky for months. To erase him from your mind.

In August 2013, the Commons voted on military intervention in Syria, on the basis that chemical weapons had been used. MPs voted 285 to 272 to stay out. And just like that, the whole international project fell apart. Barack Obama saw his chance and took it. There would be no Western intervention. We allowed Syria to continue to fall into the abyss. Russia welcomed the Commons vote. Within a year it would take Crimea.

Afterwards, Labour leader Ed Miliband said: ""People are deeply concerned about the chemical weapons attacks in Syria, but they want us to learn the lessons of Iraq." And that was correct, as far as it went. The true scale of the Iraq tragedy was now presenting itself. It was not just that we had launched an immoral and unnecessary military operation in 2003. It was that doing so had invalidated future operations that were moral and were necessary.

After the war in Iraq, people would tot up the body count and pin the blame on the West for its decision to go to war. That was not unreasonable. But equally, the deaths that followed in Syria were on our ledger too. The chemical attacks which followed - now conducted with impunity by the barbarians in Damascus and Moscow - were on us. We had made it clear that we would not intervene. We had stated outright that there was no depravity so obscene we would become meaningfully involved.

There is no right answer to these issues. Perhaps Western Intervention would have created more problems than it solved. But Syria demonstrated the moral reality, which opponents of intervention must grapple with, no matter how desperately they try to keep their hands clean: there is a consequence to inaction as well as action.

"I hope this doesn't become a moment when we turn our back on all of the world's problems," George Osborne said at the time. But of course it was that moment - not just for the UK, but the US too. For all of the West. Trump's isolationism and Brexit's inward gaze sealed that impression. The idea of us intervening in a modern day Kosovo seems almost absurd now. We forgot about the men who sit in jail cells and do not see the sky. We forgot the liberal dream that they might one day witness the end of tyranny.

As Syria collapsed, desperate people fled. In 2015, 1.3 million people came to Europe to claim asylum, with Syria being the main country of origin. It was a perfectly manageable number of people, really. If we had operated with the least trace of compassion and coordination, it was entirely achievable. But of course, we are not capable of this. Only Angela Merkel proved up to the task. Everyone else made their excuses.

Along with the 2008 financial crash, the erroneously named 'refugee crisis' was the greatest recruiting tool the populist right enjoyed. It provided a sense of emergency which traditional parties were unable to address - either because they were too politically correct, or too weak, or because they actively welcomed it. It formed part of the emotional bedrock from which the populist takeover later emerged.

We treated these people dreadfully. The vast majority of Syrians are granted asylum, for obvious reasons. I mean, look at what happened to the country. But instead of processing them we paused applications, stuffed them into shit hotels, kept them crammed up in there with no money, no right to work, no dignity or self-respect, in an indefinite state of administrative paralysis. And now that Assad has fallen, we have once again suspended their applications until we see how it all pans out.

But this, of course, is not enough. On GB News, idiot commentator Patrick Christys declared: "It's time to ramp up the repatriation. Let's get those flights to Damascus loaded up and on the runway. Now, there are roughly 30 to 40,000 Syrian refugees in the UK. Well, they can go back home now, can't they? Assad has fallen." Not a trace of humanity. Not a hint of basic decency. Just a terrible smallness - of character, of mind, of moral temperament.

It's a message repeated across Europe. In Germany, the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) politician Alice Weidel wrote: "Anyone in Germany who celebrates 'free Syria' evidently no longer has any reason to flee. They should return to Syria immediately." This sentiment was then smeared into the supposedly respectable centre-right. Christian Democrats (CDU) politician Thorsten Frei insisted those granted refugee status should have it stripped from them. "If the reason for protection no longer applies, then refugees will have to return to their home country," he told Welt TV. The same old tragic error: Respectable politicians thinking they can defeat the far-right by accepting their values as their own.

The situation in Syria asked so little of us. Just a regular flow of people, who could have been shared across the continent in manageable numbers. But that small demand proved too much for Europe. We just couldn't find it in us to be decent and humane. In truth, we do not think of them as human any more than we thought of that man in his cell. They were a problem, a thing to be solved, a threat, an invasion, a foreign contagion. This is what happens when you let the far-right own the framing of a debate: the suffocation of what is best in the human spirit.

Syria is an abattoir. How many people have died there since this nightmare began? Certainly over half a million. Probably around 600,000. It's a tragedy beyond imagination. And yet we let it play out. We did not meaningfully intervene. We barely helped, even when the survivors somehow made it to our shores. We were wrong about so much. We were wrong about everything.

But there is one final instruction from Syria, one final refutation of the West's assumptions. It is our current instinct towards despair.

This Christmas, when people look ahead to the new year, they will do so with trepidation. Trump prepares to take power again. Germany and France teeter on the edge of political chaos. Even here, where the centre-left is in power, there is a feeling of gloom. There is this dangerous sense in the air of everything tending toward chaos, of a natural law of decline.

And yet. That man stepped outside from his cell and he saw the sky. He held a reporter in one hand and a rebel fighter in the other and they helped him walk from the darkness. And in the outside air, they told him that Assad had fallen.

Not one soul among us would have believed it, even a couple of months ago. The government, the palaces, the torture chambers, the surveillance system, the prisons, the army. All of it suddenly gone.

And yes, we do not know what comes next. But there is hope. There is no destiny towards horror. The chaos of the world provides good outcomes as readily as it does bad ones.

"Oh my God, there is light," he said. "Oh my God, there is light."

Christmas donation appeal

Photo by LuAnn Hunt on Unsplash

You'll likely be doing a mad dash around town the next couple of weeks to get all the Christmas presents sorted. Please don't forget to make at least one significant donation to charity while you're doing it, if you can afford to do so.

I've asked the guys at Praxis to suggest some organisations working to help immigrants and refugees. They could all use your help. You probably don't need me to tell you this, but we care much more about donkeys than we do immigrants. The donkey charities? Overflowing with cash. The ones for refugees? Not so much. They urgently need your help.

Below is Praxis’ full charity guide, explaining what these groups do and what your help might achieve. After that, we'll have the usual Odds and Sods bit, which you should stick around for, because it's weirder than usual. I really can't stress strongly enough quite how weird it is.

A guide to donating to migrant organisations this Christmas

Praxis, for migrants and refugees

Praxis is an award-winning human rights charity that supports migrants and refugees, particularly those experiencing deep poverty and homelessness. With 40 years of experience, they do this by giving expert legal advice, providing community support, and campaigning for change.

Through their weekly peer-led community groups, they have built a strong community that come together over homecooked food to resist hostile immigration policies

Praxis is the largest provider of free immigration advice in London and they are facing massive demand for their life-changing services this Winter. Donate to their Winter Appeal today or order the perfect Christmas gift - Recipes of Life, a cookbook created by Praxis' community group for men - with a small donation.

Greater Manchester Immigration Aid Unit

Greater Manchester Immigration Aid Unit (GMIAU) offers free legal advice, representation and support services to people seeking asylum, refugees, children and vulnerable adults in North West England. They also work to defend the rights of migrants and refugees, advocating for fair treatment, against detention, and in support of better policies.

Many of the individuals supported by GMIAU cannot afford legal services and may face deportation or other serious consequences without professional help. GMIAU focuses on the most vulnerable migrants, including children, survivors of trafficking, and individuals with mental health challenges. By donating, you're helping ensure that these individuals have access to the support they need to navigate a complicated and hostile immigration system.

Right to Remain

Right to Remain is a grassroots organisation working across the UK to challenge injustice in the immigration and asylum system. People are faced with a Hostile Environment denying them basic rights, and major obstacles to establishing their legal rights to stay. Right to Remain helps people to overcome these obstacles, and works with others to build a world where everyone can exercise their right to remain with dignity and humanity, where they need to be.

Your donation will fuel a movement based on radical solidarity by providing information, training and assistance to help people to establish their right to remain.

South Yorkshire Refugee Law and Justice

South Yorkshire Refugee Law and Justice (SYRLJ) is a grassroots legal charity offering free immigration advice and representation to those seeking sanctuary in South Yorkshire. They are the only organisation in South Yorkshire providing a dedicated service delivering immigration legal support and representation to people who have been refused asylum and migrants without status.

With legal aid funding cuts in the UK, many migrants and refugees struggle to find adequate legal representation. SYRLJ plays a critical role in filling this gap by providing free, high-quality legal services to those who are most in need. Your contribution helps sustain these vital services.

Every donation directly supports individuals facing uncertainty and fear in the UK immigration system.

Hackney Migrant Centre

Hackney Migrant Centre (HMC) is a community organisation dedicated to supporting vulnerable migrants, refugees, and asylum seekers throughout London. For 17 years, HMC has stood by migrants in Hackney and beyond, offering practical support in a safe, welcoming space where people can rebuild their lives with dignity. In a climate increasingly hostile to migrants, your support is more vital than ever.

Your donation will directly address the challenges faced by visitors at Hackney Migrant Centre this winter. This includes providing emergency housing for those facing homelessness this winter, as well as nutritious meals and access to essential clothing and transport.

Every donation helps provide a lifeline to vulnerable individuals, creating a season of kindness and care.

Women’s Inclusive Team

The Women’s Inclusive Team (WIT) is a grassroots organisation set up 20 years ago by and for Somali women in East London to provide life-changing support to local women and their families. Now expanded to welcome all Bame (Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic) families in Tower Hamlets, they empower thousands of women to find routes into further education, training and employment by improving their confidence, skills and access to key services. They provide free childcare for preschool children, offering a nurturing environment for young children to learn and play. As if this wasn’t already enough, they also run a food bank and community kitchen to serve some of Tower Hamlets’ most vulnerable residents.

Their CEO Safia Jamma even received a MBE in 2022 in recognition of her significant contributions to the community.

Their work is truly unique, vital and impactful. Any support you can give will ensure they are able to continue to provide essential services to women and their families.

The Magpie Project

The Magpie Project is a community organisation based in Newham, London, providing a safe and fun space for mums and preschool children suffering in temporary or insecure accommodation. Hundreds of young children go without any homecooked meals in their first formative years because they live in hotels with just a kettle. The Magpie Project is campaigning to put an end to that.

Your contribution will help support families with the essentials, providing nappies and clothes for children as well as housing advice and support workers for mums.

Asylum Matters

Asylum Matters is a charity that works in partnership locally and nationally to improve the lives of refugees and people seeking asylum through social and political change. By mobilising and coordinating local, regional and national advocacy work, they increase the impact of campaigns to secure improvements to asylum policy and practice. This includes aiming to end destitution in the asylum system, ending the indefinite detention of asylum seekers and migrants and providing free access to healthcare for all asylum seekers in the UK.

They work with partners across the whole of the UK, with centres in North West, West Midlands, Yorkshire and Humber, North East and Wales, as well as London. Your donation will fuel their campaigns for a fairer and more humane asylum system.

The Unity Project

The Unity Project exists to provide support to people who are facing poverty and/or homelessness as a result of their immigration status and the systemic discrimination behind it. They believe everyone living in the UK should have equal access to the welfare system. As a result, they challenge the 'no recourse to public funds' (NRPF) policy in order to end it and, until then, minimise its impact. They are the only organisation in the UK that specifically assists with the complex immigration application needed to gain access to public funds.

With your contribution, The Unity Project will be able to continue running its weekly casework sessions where they support people who are locked out of accessing the welfare system to apply for a ‘Change of Conditions’ enabling them to access the benefits they need.

Odds and Sods

Quite a few things to fill you in on this week. Firstly, and most importantly, this newsletter hit a milestone. As of today, it has over 15,000 subscribers. This is a good solid performance in the UK politics landscape. Nothing earth-shattering, but very healthy. The monthly page views are at around 200,000 and the open rate is at around 60% - both those figures are very high.

Given that Christmas is coming up, I might as well say something nice. I love writing this newsletter. I love the reaction to it. Thank you for making it possible. And thanks especially to the paid subscribers who make it financially viable. I am very grateful to each and every one of you, paying money when you don't need to , without the slightest reward except for the fact that I will occasionally call you a cunt. Cheers guys.

This was also an important week for me because I managed to bestride Britain's cultural landscape like a goddamned human colossus. First I was mentioned in a House of Lords debate and then I found myself in Viz's annual. Now, I'm aware that some people will aspire to greater fame than this - more mainstream prominence, peaktime TV broadcasts, chart-topping pop songs, celebrity parties, that sort of thing. But I think that this week I may have finally found my ideal reputational niche. I feel extremely comfortable with this specific combination. My work here is done. I can retire happy.

We watched Career Girls by Mike Leigh this week. It's one of his lesser known films - I'd never heard of it. You can kinda see why. It has this extremely strange energy, with unnatural heightened performances. It takes a little while to settle into it. But then, quite quickly, you do and you sink into this lovely story. It's about two female friends in university, meeting up again a few years after graduation. But really it's about the difficult tender relationships between people who are not quite normal - we'd call them neurodivergent now - and the manner in which they make it work. It's also about the odd background melancholy that can come from a tight friendship. By the end of the film I was head over heels in love with them. I could have spent another six hours in their company, with nothing happening, just watching them mosey around chatting about things. As with all Leigh films, it is powerfully, vividly, radically humane. He is such a decent man, fundamentally, in the marrow of his bones. And it shines through in the films he makes.

It's a bit of an arse to get hold of if you're relying on streaming I'm afraid. I got round it by setting up a VPN to pretend I'm in the US and watching on a Criterion Channel with a one-week-free subscription, which is well worth doing regardless.

See you next week.