Damascus is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities. With the war raging in and around it, it too is in peril of being destroyed like many other cities in Syria which have been subjected to shelling and strafing in the war presently underway. Veteran journalist Patrick Cockburn reports in The Independent what is happening in Damascus.
"Damascus feels more and more like Belfast in the early 1970s, or Beirut a few years later. Survival requires up-to-date knowledge of the sectarian geography and the city has become full of no-go areas. I asked to visit a military hospital and an official said this might be difficult because it was in a "hot" area. Fighting had taken place at the gates of the hospital.
There are unexplained events that may be threatening but are often just mysterious and menacing. For instance, there was a dark cloud of smoke rising yesterday morning from Zamalka, another hot area, but nobody knew what was burning. When we were trying to leave Jaramana a few hours later, there were what sounded like two pistol shots near by and suddenly all the soldiers started running, shouting at us to drive away, which we hurriedly did, but nobody we spoke to knew what the alarm was all about.
The centre of Damascus is something of a bubble, with the fighting mostly in the suburbs or townships surrounding the capital. There are giant traffic jams, drivers often taking two or three hours to drive a few miles, because so many roads are blocked and there are so many checkpoints. Vehicles are often banned from in front of government buildings, increasing the congestion. Many shops are open, but the mood is edgy and apprehensive. There are electricity cuts of six to eight hours a day, though this is still better than Aleppo where there has been no electricity for four days. There is plenty of food in the markets and shops, but prices have jumped because the roads are dangerous and transport expensive.
There has also been a flood of people from the rest of Syria into Damascus because it has hitherto been the safest place to live. Often, they are staying with relatives or in small hotels and apartments recently vacated by refugees from Iraq who have gone home, having decided that even Baghdad is not as dangerous as Damascus. Better-off Syrians have moved to Lebanon or further afield, and the big hotels in central Damascus are empty aside from a handful of journalists and UN personnel. The UN and EU pulled out most of their remaining staff from the city last week."
The New York Times also has a report from Damascus, here.
"Damascus feels more and more like Belfast in the early 1970s, or Beirut a few years later. Survival requires up-to-date knowledge of the sectarian geography and the city has become full of no-go areas. I asked to visit a military hospital and an official said this might be difficult because it was in a "hot" area. Fighting had taken place at the gates of the hospital.
There are unexplained events that may be threatening but are often just mysterious and menacing. For instance, there was a dark cloud of smoke rising yesterday morning from Zamalka, another hot area, but nobody knew what was burning. When we were trying to leave Jaramana a few hours later, there were what sounded like two pistol shots near by and suddenly all the soldiers started running, shouting at us to drive away, which we hurriedly did, but nobody we spoke to knew what the alarm was all about.
The centre of Damascus is something of a bubble, with the fighting mostly in the suburbs or townships surrounding the capital. There are giant traffic jams, drivers often taking two or three hours to drive a few miles, because so many roads are blocked and there are so many checkpoints. Vehicles are often banned from in front of government buildings, increasing the congestion. Many shops are open, but the mood is edgy and apprehensive. There are electricity cuts of six to eight hours a day, though this is still better than Aleppo where there has been no electricity for four days. There is plenty of food in the markets and shops, but prices have jumped because the roads are dangerous and transport expensive.
There has also been a flood of people from the rest of Syria into Damascus because it has hitherto been the safest place to live. Often, they are staying with relatives or in small hotels and apartments recently vacated by refugees from Iraq who have gone home, having decided that even Baghdad is not as dangerous as Damascus. Better-off Syrians have moved to Lebanon or further afield, and the big hotels in central Damascus are empty aside from a handful of journalists and UN personnel. The UN and EU pulled out most of their remaining staff from the city last week."
The New York Times also has a report from Damascus, here.
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