So far I have tried to avoid going too deeply into political issues on this blog, but as Bush and Ahmadinejad - is it just me, or has anybody else noticed the uncanny 'simian-arity' of the two? – prepare to go head to head, I often think of the effect this might have on this part of the world. I don't want to discuss what I think of the current sabre-rattling and the complexities involved (not least the fact that Iran has a great deal of influence in Iraq, which should hopefully give US hawks some pause for thought before they decide to try to ‘kick some ass’). Nevertheless, I believe that a US air attack or missile strike on Iran remains a possibility (hopefully not yet a probability) and this would undoubtedly further stir up violence and instability across the Middle East, including in Syria.
In the first week that we were here, C-lo and I sat one evening in a cafe overlooking the Citadel, the Barada river and the Old City, and, as we looked out upon the ramshackle array of roofs, green-lit minarets and ancient fortifications we said - 'I hope to God that nothing bad happens to this place'. Damascus, especially the older and poorer parts, is in many ways an ugly city to eyes used to English towns and cities – the streets are strewn with rubbish and often have a buckled, chaotic quality to them, many of the houses are dilapidated, indeed some are literally crumbling apart. Yet, behind this ugliness there is a tarnished beauty in even the most mundane of streets – a beautifully carved door here, some fine stonework there, maybe even a domed shrine quietly tucked away.
Yet, more than a concern that further chaos in the Middle East might bring destruction to the historical wealth represented by Damascus’ buildings is our concern for the people we have met here. As one of the hummus sellers in our neighbourhood, said to us one night, as we were picking up some beautifully prepared moutabbel (smoked aubergine-based dip) for dinner: 'Politics is hard but between people it is easy' - I took what he said to mean that although the governments of our countries might not get along so well, which stirs up all sorts of animosities and distortions on both sides, and despite our different languages, cultures and backgrounds when we meet face to face most of us are able to arrive at some kind of coexistence (though I concede that it’s not always so easy!).
And it is for this reason that I hope that the current crisis is defused. In London or Washington there is little conception that the words ‘Syria’ or ‘Damascus’ contains more than the distorted images of an enemy but for us here it means a whole plethora of people and memories (both bad and good), too rich, complex and precious to be easily caught, categorized and contained. This country undoubtedly has its share of idiots and bigots, but this has to be contrasted with the countless examples of courtesy and hospitality that we have been shown wherever we have been.
As we say when we say goodbye in Arabic: Ma'a Salaama – with peace.
