I want to collaborate with illustrators to create a graphic book based on my experiences in Libya in 2011, Syria in 2013, and Turkey in 2015. Below are drafts done by illustrator Joshua Frazer. Below the illustrations is the short story for which the drafts were done.
“An ISIS Checkpoint Story”
by
Ronald Paul Larson
In the summer of 2013 I spent two weeks in the city of Aleppo, Syria. The fighting in Syria between the regime of dictator Bashar al Assad and the rebels (or “revolutionaries" as they want to be called) was in its third year, long after the Arab Spring "revolutions" in Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya had seemingly ended. By 2013 the fighting in Syria had devolved into a bloody stalemate and was more a sectarian civil war than a revolution.
Late in the spring of 2013 there were reliable reports that Assad had used chemical weapons against civilians in rebel held areas. Having gone to Libya in the summer of 2011 and witnessed the fight against Muammar Gaddafi, I wanted to see for myself what the situation was like in Syria.
Aleppo, the second largest city in Syria, was divided by the fighting when I was there. The rebels held the poorer parts of the city, where their support was strongest, and the regime forces controlled the wealthier parts. The city was divided by a literal no-man's land that ranges in size depending on the layout of the buildings. Sometimes only a street separated the opposing fighters. Sometimes it might be a large empty space several hundred feet across such as a parking lot.
Because Assad's forces had the advantage of artillery, tanks, and airpower, much of the fighting took place at night. The nighttime negated these advantages because neither side had night-vision equipment. Night was when I heard the most explosions and gunfire. During the day, sniping was the main activity and danger. Assad’s forces didn’t attack during the day because they didn’t have the strength to advance. Hezbollah’s alliance had not yet made itself felt in this part of Syria. The situation was at a stalemate.
Two "fixers" helped me with setting up interviews as well as providing accommodations, transportation, and arranging for security. Fixers are local people hired by reporters or aid workers whose job is to make everything possible and keep you safe. They enable a journalist to do their job. If they are good, they know everybody and know how to make whatever their employer wants to happen, happen. My fixers, Mahmoud Albasha and "Suheib" (his real name was Aref Zidan) were the only real fixers in Aleppo. The Times of London and Amnesty International both used them. They were very good.
The apartment where my fixers, journalists, and those who worked for international humanitarian organizations stayed was about two kilometers from the front line. Several times I saw tracer bullets ricochet in the streets below from the windows.
I had gone to the frontline in Aleppo on June 29th, a few days after I had arrived. But I wanted to go to the front in the countryside where most of the heavy fighting had recently taken place. I knew the rebels were trying to surround the regime held part of the city.
On July 6th, a Free Syria Army fighter (who was a friend of my fixers) was going to the front to rejoin his unit. We decided to go with him. Since Assad’s forces controlled part of Aleppo, we would have to drive around the city to get to the area of the frontline I wanted to go to. Although it was only ten kilometers away, we had to drive a distance of 70 kilometers. It would take three hours.
After more than two hours of driving we stopped and picked up a wounded fighter. He was on the side of the road and asked for a ride to a nearby medical clinic. He got into the back seat with my fixer (the FSA fighter was driving. I was in the front passenger seat) and we drove him to the medical station. I videotaped the fighter having his dressing changed. He had a flesh wound in the abdomen.
At this point, I became aware that the FSA fighter was having a hard finding his unit. I knew the lines had changed in recent days and Suheib told me the FSA fighter was asking people at the medical clinic where his unit was. Apparently they gave him directions because after some tea, we continued our journey.
After a short distance we were stopped at an underpass by a dozen armed men. I noticed a flag that is associated with ISIS (the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria - now calling itself “The Islamic State”) was flying above the underpass.
by
Ronald Paul Larson
In the summer of 2013 I spent two weeks in the city of Aleppo, Syria. The fighting in Syria between the regime of dictator Bashar al Assad and the rebels (or “revolutionaries" as they want to be called) was in its third year, long after the Arab Spring "revolutions" in Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya had seemingly ended. By 2013 the fighting in Syria had devolved into a bloody stalemate and was more a sectarian civil war than a revolution.
Late in the spring of 2013 there were reliable reports that Assad had used chemical weapons against civilians in rebel held areas. Having gone to Libya in the summer of 2011 and witnessed the fight against Muammar Gaddafi, I wanted to see for myself what the situation was like in Syria.
Aleppo, the second largest city in Syria, was divided by the fighting when I was there. The rebels held the poorer parts of the city, where their support was strongest, and the regime forces controlled the wealthier parts. The city was divided by a literal no-man's land that ranges in size depending on the layout of the buildings. Sometimes only a street separated the opposing fighters. Sometimes it might be a large empty space several hundred feet across such as a parking lot.
Because Assad's forces had the advantage of artillery, tanks, and airpower, much of the fighting took place at night. The nighttime negated these advantages because neither side had night-vision equipment. Night was when I heard the most explosions and gunfire. During the day, sniping was the main activity and danger. Assad’s forces didn’t attack during the day because they didn’t have the strength to advance. Hezbollah’s alliance had not yet made itself felt in this part of Syria. The situation was at a stalemate.
Two "fixers" helped me with setting up interviews as well as providing accommodations, transportation, and arranging for security. Fixers are local people hired by reporters or aid workers whose job is to make everything possible and keep you safe. They enable a journalist to do their job. If they are good, they know everybody and know how to make whatever their employer wants to happen, happen. My fixers, Mahmoud Albasha and "Suheib" (his real name was Aref Zidan) were the only real fixers in Aleppo. The Times of London and Amnesty International both used them. They were very good.
The apartment where my fixers, journalists, and those who worked for international humanitarian organizations stayed was about two kilometers from the front line. Several times I saw tracer bullets ricochet in the streets below from the windows.
I had gone to the frontline in Aleppo on June 29th, a few days after I had arrived. But I wanted to go to the front in the countryside where most of the heavy fighting had recently taken place. I knew the rebels were trying to surround the regime held part of the city.
On July 6th, a Free Syria Army fighter (who was a friend of my fixers) was going to the front to rejoin his unit. We decided to go with him. Since Assad’s forces controlled part of Aleppo, we would have to drive around the city to get to the area of the frontline I wanted to go to. Although it was only ten kilometers away, we had to drive a distance of 70 kilometers. It would take three hours.
After more than two hours of driving we stopped and picked up a wounded fighter. He was on the side of the road and asked for a ride to a nearby medical clinic. He got into the back seat with my fixer (the FSA fighter was driving. I was in the front passenger seat) and we drove him to the medical station. I videotaped the fighter having his dressing changed. He had a flesh wound in the abdomen.
At this point, I became aware that the FSA fighter was having a hard finding his unit. I knew the lines had changed in recent days and Suheib told me the FSA fighter was asking people at the medical clinic where his unit was. Apparently they gave him directions because after some tea, we continued our journey.
After a short distance we were stopped at an underpass by a dozen armed men. I noticed a flag that is associated with ISIS (the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria - now calling itself “The Islamic State”) was flying above the underpass.
The top text reads, "There is no God but God." The white circle in the center with the words “Muhammad Rasul Allah” is the seal the prophet Muhammad used on his letters. It means “Muhammad is the prophet/messenger of God”)
After the car stopped, a large, ugly man carrying an AK-47 leaned into my open passenger window and started talking with the FSA fighter. I expected a few words and then for us to be waved through. This did not happen. The seconds turned into a minute and then two minutes. I could tell the conversation between the FSA fighter and the armed man was not going well. Then the man stepped back and another bearded man better dressed with a higher level of personal hygiene looked into my window. Now Suheib joined the conversation. I gave this new man my passport and cameras. He looked at these and tried to take the lens cap off my camera.
I don’t know exactly what Suheib and the FSA fighter were saying to the new man but within a few minutes Suheib told me we needed to get out of the car. The FSA fighter drove through the checkpoint. I presumed he planned to return. Apparently ISIS and the FSA shared this part of the front line. Who knew? The second man was the commander of the checkpoint. Suheib later told me that the commander was from Saudi Arabia and he knew him from Aleppo. Suheib also knew the commander was part of ISIS.
After the departure of the FSA fighter, I was left alone next to the big ugly fighter who had stopped us (Suheib and commander had stepped aside). After a few minutes, the guard stepped back and the ISIS commander and Suheib approached me. We stood in the middle of the dirt road. The ISIS commander was to my left, a little to the front of me. Suheib was directly in front of me. The ISIS commander apparently wanted to ask me a few questions. He spoke to Suheib who asked me the questions in English. The tone was more of a friendly interview than an interrogation. Via Suheib, the ISIS commander asked me. "Do you think of death?" I remember feeling pretty calm and tried to remember my experience in my men's group in Southern California in the late 1990s. I was in what is now called the ManKind Project and learned to stay calm in emotional or stressful situations and speak from a calm "centered" place. "Not much," I said casually.
Then the commander asked me if I believed in God. I said, "Yes." The truth is, of course, that I'm not really sure about this. I think I knew what he meant by "God." But I'm not sure about a “personal” God. Maybe the Buddhists are right. I have no idea if there is a transcendent reality or what it is like. In any case, I knew better than to confess my agnosticism. I did not want to be considered an "unbeliever." That could be very dangerous. Fundamentalist Muslims have been known to kill atheists. So, I said "Yes."
The commander then asked if I knew when I would die. I said, "No, I am not God." Good answer, I thought. Again, I remained calm and intentionally nonchalant. He then asked me if I was a Christian. I am not a Christian. Like so many others I was raised Catholic, but had long ago rejected the idea that Jesus Christ, if there was such a person, was any different than you and I. I knew from my experience in the Middle East though, it is best to say you are a Christian. The vast majority of Muslims have no problem with Christians. I was sometimes asked this question and always said, "Yes" without a problem.
When I said I was a Christian the ISIS commander "went off." He started shaking his hand and saying (as Suheib translated) that Christians were “kafir,” (unbelievers) because the trinity is false. There is only one God, not three. He saw the trinity as a form of polytheism. I was surprised by this reaction, not having experienced it before. I simply shook my head "Yes" and said, "I understand" as the commander railed against the falsity of the doctrine of the trinity. To be honest, although I went to Catholic grade school and high school, I never really understood the trinity. I certainly wasn't about to get into a discussion with an ISIS commander on the validity of something I didn't actually believe in. After a few moments, Suheib and the commander moved to the side and talked some more.
I was left with the big, ugly man and the other dozen Jihadi guards again. Within a few minutes, a man in a pickup truck drove up and stopped. He had a fair complexion with a few days growth of beard. He addressed me in English. He asked me who I was. I told him I was an American journalist. "This place is very dangerous for you. You should leave." If I went any farther there were men who would kill me, he said. "You know why? All Muslims hate America." "Yes, I understand," I said.
I told him that in Aleppo, Suheib and I had told some of the more fundamentalist fighters that I was from Canada. He then said he was from Montreal. "Parlez vous Francais?" I said. "Oui," he replied. He then started speaking in French.
Although I went from a "B" to a "C" to a "D" in three semesters of college French, I knew he was speaking French. I switched back to English. He again warned me to leave, that it was dangerous for me there. I said I understood. I was touched by his concern for my welfare. An ISIS man from Canada was trying to save an American. We shook hands. I then asked him if he trusted the commander. He seemed a little puzzled by the question but said yes. In retrospect, I realize that the checkpoint commander was his commander, but at the time I didn't understand that. I also had an urge to take his picture and would have but had not been given my camera back yet. That would not have been a very smart thing to do.
Suheib later told me that when he was talking to the ISIS commander alone the second time, the commander was very angry with him for bringing an American journalist to the area. Apparently we had been stopped at the ISIS ammo dump checkpoint for that part of the front. Suheib said the commander told him that if he (Suheib) had not been there the commander would have either killed me or taken me captive. But because Suheib had good relations with and “permission from all courts and groups,” the commander didn't. Suheib suggested to the commander that instead of killing me, he should invite me to convert to Islam. So, that is what the he did.
Suheib and the ISIS commander approached me again. "Ronald," Suheib said. "Listen to what the commander says and repeat it." "OK, I said. So, in a "repeat after me" kind of way the commander spoke a few words in Arabic and I repeated them in Arabic. At the time, I had no idea what I was saying. Later, Suheib told that it was what one says when one becomes a Muslim. "I witness that there is no God but God. I witness that Mohammed is the messenger of God" etc. The commander would say a few words, then I would repeat. A few times I mangled the words and stopped, somewhat embarrassed. The commander patiently repeated the words. I tried again. After a minute or two, I had made it through. Then Suheib said, "Ronald, listen carefully to what the commander is going say." Then the commander in a kind of half singing and half chanting tone spoke for a minute or two. I was later told it was a passage from the Koran. When the commander stopped, Suheib asked me how I felt. I said "Tell him that he sang beautifully." Suheib and the Commander went off again. I was left with the guards.
After a short time, the FSA fighter returned. He had found his unit but a sniper was shooting at the road and his commander would not allow me to go through. It was too dangerous. OK, I thought. Time to go back to Aleppo. Suheib said goodbye to the ISIS commander. I was given my camera and passport back and we got into the car and drove the way we had come. I didn't make it to the front line that day.
[Author’s postscript: In June of 2014 I learned from Jack Hill and Anthony Loyd of the Times of London and had confirmed by a person from Amnesty International and my contacts in Syria that sometime in early 2014 Suheib (Aref Zidan) went to a local ISIS group to secure the release of his brother who was being held by them. He never returned. Approximately two months later his new wife (he had married in September 2013) received a written communication from ISIS informing her that they had killed Suheib. I owe him my life]
After the car stopped, a large, ugly man carrying an AK-47 leaned into my open passenger window and started talking with the FSA fighter. I expected a few words and then for us to be waved through. This did not happen. The seconds turned into a minute and then two minutes. I could tell the conversation between the FSA fighter and the armed man was not going well. Then the man stepped back and another bearded man better dressed with a higher level of personal hygiene looked into my window. Now Suheib joined the conversation. I gave this new man my passport and cameras. He looked at these and tried to take the lens cap off my camera.
I don’t know exactly what Suheib and the FSA fighter were saying to the new man but within a few minutes Suheib told me we needed to get out of the car. The FSA fighter drove through the checkpoint. I presumed he planned to return. Apparently ISIS and the FSA shared this part of the front line. Who knew? The second man was the commander of the checkpoint. Suheib later told me that the commander was from Saudi Arabia and he knew him from Aleppo. Suheib also knew the commander was part of ISIS.
After the departure of the FSA fighter, I was left alone next to the big ugly fighter who had stopped us (Suheib and commander had stepped aside). After a few minutes, the guard stepped back and the ISIS commander and Suheib approached me. We stood in the middle of the dirt road. The ISIS commander was to my left, a little to the front of me. Suheib was directly in front of me. The ISIS commander apparently wanted to ask me a few questions. He spoke to Suheib who asked me the questions in English. The tone was more of a friendly interview than an interrogation. Via Suheib, the ISIS commander asked me. "Do you think of death?" I remember feeling pretty calm and tried to remember my experience in my men's group in Southern California in the late 1990s. I was in what is now called the ManKind Project and learned to stay calm in emotional or stressful situations and speak from a calm "centered" place. "Not much," I said casually.
Then the commander asked me if I believed in God. I said, "Yes." The truth is, of course, that I'm not really sure about this. I think I knew what he meant by "God." But I'm not sure about a “personal” God. Maybe the Buddhists are right. I have no idea if there is a transcendent reality or what it is like. In any case, I knew better than to confess my agnosticism. I did not want to be considered an "unbeliever." That could be very dangerous. Fundamentalist Muslims have been known to kill atheists. So, I said "Yes."
The commander then asked if I knew when I would die. I said, "No, I am not God." Good answer, I thought. Again, I remained calm and intentionally nonchalant. He then asked me if I was a Christian. I am not a Christian. Like so many others I was raised Catholic, but had long ago rejected the idea that Jesus Christ, if there was such a person, was any different than you and I. I knew from my experience in the Middle East though, it is best to say you are a Christian. The vast majority of Muslims have no problem with Christians. I was sometimes asked this question and always said, "Yes" without a problem.
When I said I was a Christian the ISIS commander "went off." He started shaking his hand and saying (as Suheib translated) that Christians were “kafir,” (unbelievers) because the trinity is false. There is only one God, not three. He saw the trinity as a form of polytheism. I was surprised by this reaction, not having experienced it before. I simply shook my head "Yes" and said, "I understand" as the commander railed against the falsity of the doctrine of the trinity. To be honest, although I went to Catholic grade school and high school, I never really understood the trinity. I certainly wasn't about to get into a discussion with an ISIS commander on the validity of something I didn't actually believe in. After a few moments, Suheib and the commander moved to the side and talked some more.
I was left with the big, ugly man and the other dozen Jihadi guards again. Within a few minutes, a man in a pickup truck drove up and stopped. He had a fair complexion with a few days growth of beard. He addressed me in English. He asked me who I was. I told him I was an American journalist. "This place is very dangerous for you. You should leave." If I went any farther there were men who would kill me, he said. "You know why? All Muslims hate America." "Yes, I understand," I said.
I told him that in Aleppo, Suheib and I had told some of the more fundamentalist fighters that I was from Canada. He then said he was from Montreal. "Parlez vous Francais?" I said. "Oui," he replied. He then started speaking in French.
Although I went from a "B" to a "C" to a "D" in three semesters of college French, I knew he was speaking French. I switched back to English. He again warned me to leave, that it was dangerous for me there. I said I understood. I was touched by his concern for my welfare. An ISIS man from Canada was trying to save an American. We shook hands. I then asked him if he trusted the commander. He seemed a little puzzled by the question but said yes. In retrospect, I realize that the checkpoint commander was his commander, but at the time I didn't understand that. I also had an urge to take his picture and would have but had not been given my camera back yet. That would not have been a very smart thing to do.
Suheib later told me that when he was talking to the ISIS commander alone the second time, the commander was very angry with him for bringing an American journalist to the area. Apparently we had been stopped at the ISIS ammo dump checkpoint for that part of the front. Suheib said the commander told him that if he (Suheib) had not been there the commander would have either killed me or taken me captive. But because Suheib had good relations with and “permission from all courts and groups,” the commander didn't. Suheib suggested to the commander that instead of killing me, he should invite me to convert to Islam. So, that is what the he did.
Suheib and the ISIS commander approached me again. "Ronald," Suheib said. "Listen to what the commander says and repeat it." "OK, I said. So, in a "repeat after me" kind of way the commander spoke a few words in Arabic and I repeated them in Arabic. At the time, I had no idea what I was saying. Later, Suheib told that it was what one says when one becomes a Muslim. "I witness that there is no God but God. I witness that Mohammed is the messenger of God" etc. The commander would say a few words, then I would repeat. A few times I mangled the words and stopped, somewhat embarrassed. The commander patiently repeated the words. I tried again. After a minute or two, I had made it through. Then Suheib said, "Ronald, listen carefully to what the commander is going say." Then the commander in a kind of half singing and half chanting tone spoke for a minute or two. I was later told it was a passage from the Koran. When the commander stopped, Suheib asked me how I felt. I said "Tell him that he sang beautifully." Suheib and the Commander went off again. I was left with the guards.
After a short time, the FSA fighter returned. He had found his unit but a sniper was shooting at the road and his commander would not allow me to go through. It was too dangerous. OK, I thought. Time to go back to Aleppo. Suheib said goodbye to the ISIS commander. I was given my camera and passport back and we got into the car and drove the way we had come. I didn't make it to the front line that day.
[Author’s postscript: In June of 2014 I learned from Jack Hill and Anthony Loyd of the Times of London and had confirmed by a person from Amnesty International and my contacts in Syria that sometime in early 2014 Suheib (Aref Zidan) went to a local ISIS group to secure the release of his brother who was being held by them. He never returned. Approximately two months later his new wife (he had married in September 2013) received a written communication from ISIS informing her that they had killed Suheib. I owe him my life]