Broken pottery vessels in ransacked museums. Blown-up ruins in sandy villages. The crumbling dome of a mosque, open to the yawning blue sky overhead. These are the images of Syria’s destroyed cultural heritage that dominate the Western imagination. But what do these scenes of destruction actually mean, and can we really dismiss them as just a footnote in the seemingly never-ending vortex of Middle Eastern conflicts?
It might seem easy for us to think about cultural heritage as simply dusty old artifacts, but in reality, heritage is an integral part of landscapes and communities. Years of conflict in Syria have caused the degradation of countless cultural sites across various contexts, which in turn has served to disrupt community life and local culture. As Syria emerges from its 14-year civil war under the authoritarian rule of Bashar al-Assad, the new Syrian government must lead the reconstruction of Syrian cultural heritage to rebuild communities and prevent future radicalization.
The question that must first be addressed is the why: Why do states and non-state actors so frequently target cultural heritage? As ISIS swept through Syria in 2015 and claimed territory, both Syrian and international watchdogs began to raise the alarm about the threat that ISIS posed to Syrian cultural heritage. ISIS’s destruction of parts of the Roman archaeological site of Palmyra remains one of the most devastating losses of cultural history in the modern Middle East. The destruction of Palmyra was also marked by the brutal murder of Khalid al-Assad, the 82-year-old director of antiquities at Palmyra, who was beheaded for his refusal to give up the location of precious artifacts to ISIS. The site of Palmyra is one of the most prominent reminders of Syria’s diverse past, a past that ISIS wants to rewrite.
In this context, we can understand that attempts to destroy cultural heritage are effectively attempts to create a homogenous culture that rests on a false history. Cultural sites and artifacts are repositories of memories that hold a vibrant blend of different cultures and religions. When the material records of past histories are erased, identities are changed and rewritten along with them. New generations reared in communities that have been devastated by the destruction of culture are more likely to develop resentment and experience alienation towards their own people and culture, making them more susceptible to radicalization in the future. When there are no cultural sites or objects to serve as cultural touchstones for the community, it becomes difficult for older generations to communicate knowledge and traditions to younger generations.
Assault on a shared environment can effectively be equated to an attack on the culture that has grown up around that environment. This especially applies when there is a lack of state support for rebuilding, and communities fall apart as the fabric of their shared existence wears away. For example, the city of Aleppo was the site of near-constant conflict between Syrian government forces and rebel groups between 2012 and 2016, and as a result, large sectors of the old city were almost completely destroyed. The most notable consequences of the conflict were the destruction of the Great Umayyad Mosque and the historic souks of Aleppo, both sites that were extremely vital to public life in Aleppo.
External causes of destruction, however, are not the only danger Syrian cultural heritage has faced. The desperation of war and economic need can cause people to commit acts of looting and destruction against their own heritage, thus perpetuating a seemingly ceaseless cycle of violence. Amr al-Azm, an archaeologist and co-director of the Antiquities Trafficking and Heritage Anthropology Research (ATHAR) Project, points out that “when people lose their livelihoods, they seek alternative ways to survive…they’ll dig for [artifacts] in hopes of supplementing their income.”
As trust in government erodes and economic collapse intensifies, many looters use personal claims to justify their actions. Al-Azm notes that the legacy of mismanagement of history in Syria has caused many to think, “‘This artifact is coming from my land, my backyard, my village — why shouldn’t I have a claim to it?’”
By refusing to address cultural destruction, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham is thus effectively setting the foundation for a generation disconnected from their communities and roots. Ever since the fall of the al-Assad regime, looting has reached a fever pitch in Syria. According to the ATHAR Project, nearly a third of the 1,500 appearances of Syrian items on the black market it has documented since 2012 have occurred since December.
As Syria moves into the future, the government must build partnerships with Syrian heritage professionals and local organizations to chart a way forward for preservation and rebuilding. This must take a variety of different forms, including empowering local communities to take ownership over restoration processes and supporting civil society organizations in their coordination efforts. It is the responsibility of the new government to both put a stop to this theft and begin the process of reconstruction, and it will be impossible for Hayat Tahrir al-Sham to govern effectively without first rebuilding Syria’s diverse history and heritage. Current and future Syrians must be the ones to decide the way their own history is shaped, and excavating that history from under the rubble of war is an essential step in the rebuilding of Syria.
Featured Image Source: National Museum of Asian Art
