From the couch of his comfortable Sechelt apartment, Syrian refugee Michil Ibrahim draws a quick map of the Middle East on letter-size paper, with arrows pointing towards his rough outline of Syria.
In his view, the arrows represent international allies backing opposition Muslim interests within his war-ravaged country: Russia, China and Iran supporting Shia Muslims on one side, and the U.S., Europe and Saudi Arabia behind Sunni Muslims on the other.
“It’s a big game of religion and politics,” said the former accountant and dental lab technician in surprisingly good English; he spoke the language only a little before arriving in Canada in July 2016. He and wife Rita Rihani and their daughters Jizil, 8, and Nardeen, 10, have relocated to Sechelt, thanks to sponsorship by Christian Life Assembly in Gibsons and Crossroads Community Church in Sechelt.
“We are so lucky to come to this place,” said Rihani, a former customer service bank employee who is from Jordan. “We love Canada because the people are so amazing. They have a lot of love to give you. It’s like you’re family.”
While many in the West think Syria’s president Bashar al-Assad is a ruthless tyrant who recently launched a deadly chemical attack against his own people, Ibrahim and Rihani don’t believe such media accounts.
“Liars!” said Rihani, seated on the couch beside her husband. “It’s not fair.”
He agrees: “The social media are liars. [Middle Eastern news outlet] Al Jazeera, they are Qatar and Saudi Arabia. They are against Syria. Many people don’t like to watch Al Jazeera.”
The Syrian government attacked a storage facility with a lot of chemicals inside, Ibrahim admits, but he believes the terrorist group ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria), not Assad, had prepared these chemicals to use against Syrians. He asks: If a lot of children died in the attack and others tried to carry them to safety, how did these adults survive the chemicals without a mask or gloves?”
Rihani said: “We don’t like to switch on the TV news. The truth: Assad was good before the war.”
Many Syrians in the capital city of Damascus, where Ibrahim lived, are pro-Assad, he said.
To countless people in their country, the president is still the same man he was before bloody civil war broke out in March 2011, Rihani said: an open-minded eye doctor who raised salaries, imposed few taxes and fees, encouraged religious freedom, and visited Christian villages with no security detail to celebrate Palm Sunday and other religious holidays.
Yet, even before the current conflict started, many Syrians complained about high unemployment, widespread corruption, a lack of political freedom and state repression under Assad, who took over from his father, Hafez, in 2000.
“He [Assad] is not an angel,” Rihani said, sharing a plate of homemade cookies. “Everyone makes mistakes. The government makes mistakes.”
“The government doesn’t want peace,” said an animated Ibrahim, who said he doesn’t like to talk politics, yet readily shares views about Syria, then and now. When Donald Trump won the U.S. presidency, he said of Syria: “Everyone went ‘Rah, rah.’ Trump said before: I fight ISIS, but now he fights everyone.”
“He [Trump] hasn’t the wisdom,” Rihani said.
The couple spoke passionately about love for their respective homelands and life before the war, when Syria was self-sufficient; Rihani offered this term via Google Translator on the family cell phone. The nation needed no outside help then, they both said: it had enough gas, food, factories, and people working two or three jobs, often for 14 hours a day. Damascus was famous for its specialty desserts, like baklava. A four-kilo bag of oranges cost only a dollar. “Now, it would be like gold,” Rihani said.
“Before the war, it was amazing,” she added. “You could walk the streets at midnight and it was safe.”
Ibrahim said he hopes for democracy in Syria, but doesn’t see this political option at play in the Middle East. In March 2011, pro-democracy demonstrations inspired by the Arab Spring broke out in Deraa in southern Syria.
“They [rebels] want to remove Assad but if he was gone, it would be terrible,” he added.
Rihani piped in: “Nobody who comes after Assad will be better than him. He knows his country, his people.”
Ibrahim’s parents, both retired, remain in Syria. His mother was a teacher, his father worked for the government at the Lebanon-Syria border. They have no fridge and are thin because food is scarce and expensive, Rihani said. With no gas, it’s cold in the winter. Since there is little water, the 50 olive trees near their parents’ home are now dead. But they don’t want to leave. “They say, ‘This is our land, this is for us this land,’” Rihani said.
She added: “We thank God we are now in a good place, with good people, a good life, good building, and amazing neighbours.”
Contact with loved ones in Syria is sporadic, with electricity available only two hours a day. The couple reaches out from Sechelt via text messages, WhatsApp and voicemail, with the occasional chats via Skype. “You can’t talk on the phone,” Rihani said. “The government might be listening.”
Ibrahim’s four younger sisters can’t leave the embattled nation because Syria’s borders with Jordan and Lebanon are closed. No one can apply for refugee status from within Syria itself.
“My sisters and nieces only went to school twice in a month,” he said. “It’s not safe because of bombs.”
Ibrahim found it challenging to describe his last visit to Syria, in 2014, after he moved to Jordan for an accounting job in November 2010, only months before the war began. He travelled alone by bus from Lebanon and said it was very dangerous, particularly as a Christian amidst ISIS influence.
His wife described his experience: “It was so, so hard. A lot of the buildings collapsed. With his friend, he was sitting by a hairdresser salon. They saw a bomb in front. All the buildings came down and people ran away. He said he can’t sleep from the [noise of the] planes, ‘People died in front of me. I can’t come back.’”
“It’s hard for me,” Ibrahim said.
About 400,000 Syrians have been killed during the war, according to the United Nations, and CNN reports that more than five million have fled the country as of March 2017.
However, the couple joyfully described their four-month courtship prior to their 2003 wedding, when Rihani joined her new husband in Syria. Besides frequent long-distance calls, Ibrahim drove three hours from Damascus to Aman, Jordan every week, bringing gifts each time for Rihani and her parents, as per local custom. “It was expensive,” he said with a laugh.
Today, Ibrahim works part-time as a cleaner for the school district and receives weekly English tutoring. He also worked at Independent Grocer, stocking shelves. Rihani works on call at the Salvation Army Thrift Store in Sechelt, sorting clothes and donations. They’ve both attended English classes at Capilano University.
Now, their two daughters, who attend Kinnikinnick Elementary School, correct their parents’ English, the parents said with a chuckle.
The family loves nature on the Sunshine Coast. Before arriving here, they thought, “Canada equals snow.” And the rain? “We pray for rain,” said Rihani, referring to her native Jordan on the Arabian Desert. “We love this area,” she said. “We stay here.”
