Some five million Syrians are now refugees in
their own country, many living hand-to-mouth in vacant buildings, schools,
mosques, parks and the cramped homes of relatives. Others are trapped in
neighborhoods isolated by military blockades, beyond the reach of aid groups.
Already desperately short of food and medicine as winter closes in, they could
begin to succumb in greater numbers to hunger and exposure, aid workers say.
The long civil war has forced two million
Syrians outside the country‘s borders, but more than twice that
number face mounting privations at home, and the toll keeps rising. The
deepening humanitarian crisis threatens to set the country’s development back
decades and dwarfs any aid effort that could conceivably be carried out while
the conflict continues, aid workers and analysts say.
The cost of replacing damaged homes and
infrastructure alone is estimated at more than $30 billion, and the ruin mounts
daily. More than half of the country’s hospitals are destroyed or closed, and
according to Save the Children a fifth of Syrian families go without food one
week a month. Syria’s economy has shrunk by half.
Even in relatively safe areas, a closer look at
bustling streets reveals the displaced spilling from every corner. Thousands of
people live in the gyms and hallways of a sports complex turned state-run
shelter in the coastal city of Latakia. In the capital, Damascus, newcomers
crowd ramshackle hotels, half-finished buildings, offices and storefronts. Long
lines form outside the shrinking number of government bakeries still operating.
In some of the suburbs, people have confessed to eating dogs and cats, and imams
have even issued decrees saying it is religiously permissible.
Outside the Umayyad Mosque in the heart of old
Damascus, Nasreen, 25, cradled her baby in her lap one recent evening. She and
her siblings, husband and parents, who declined to give their family name for
fear of reprisals, were cramped into a single room nearby, having fled the
suburb of Daraya after their home was damaged.
With rising rent depleting their savings, and
the shop they relied on for income now sealed off behind a government blockade,
they accept occasional handouts from neighborhood organizations. But what
weighs on them most are thoughts of the future: They said they could not
imagine when or how they might return to a hometown where entire blocks have
been bombed to rubble.
“We have only God,” she said.
Even those still in their homes are increasingly
suffering as inflation soars and food shortages grow, especially in areas
blockaded by the government or rebels. Many are angry and mystified that more
help has not reached them from the outside world.
“It is as if we are living on Jupiter or Mars,”
said Qusai Zakarya, a spokesman for an opposition council in Moadhamiya, south
of Damascus, where the government has not
allowed aid convoys to
enter for nine months. “Everyone is looking at us from the window and we are in
a separate world. Everyone left us alone, every single person on this planet.”
In a news conference in Kuwait on Thursday, the
Turkish foreign minister, Ahmet Davutoglu, said that Turkey, which has absorbed
600,000 Syrian refugees, would keep its border with Syria open, but he also
expressed his “deep disappointment and frustration because of the absence of a
proper reaction by the international community” to the humanitarian crisis.
A $1.5 billion international aid effort, carried
out under dangerous and politically charged conditions by the United Nations,
the Syrian Arab Red Crescent and smaller local organizations, provides stopgap
food, schooling and medicine to millions of people. But it is underfinanced,
covers just a fraction of the needs, fails to reach people in blockaded areas
and does not begin to address the collapse of Syria’s health, education and
economic infrastructure and its devastating implications for the country’s
future, aid officials in Syria and across the region say.
“If we continue to deal with this crisis as a
short-term disaster instead of a long-term effort, the region will face even
more severe consequences,” Neal Keny-Guyer, the chief executive of Mercy Corps, wrote recently,
calling for increased American financing and a new focus on longer-term
development projects, like repairing water infrastructure.
Some go further, saying that the only meaningful
humanitarian action now is to end the fighting.
Omar
Abdelaziz al-Hallaj, an independent Syrian adviser to aid, development and
conflict resolution efforts in the region, told the Lebanese Economic
Association in Beirut recently that the focus must be shifted “from saving a
few lives to saving more lives by halting the violence.”
The war, Mr. Hallaj and United Nations officials
in Syria said, is disintegrating administrative and social structures at a pace
that makes it impossible to deliver adequate aid even if financing were
available, which it is not. “No donor funds have ever been known to be given in
the magnitude of aid needed in Syria,” Mr. Hallaj said.
To help the more than six million people
displaced or severely affected by the crisis inside Syria, the United Nations
has asked for $1.5 billion, far less than the $3 billion it has requested to
aid the two million refugees outside the country. The discrepancy stems in part
from United Nations principles of dealing with sovereign states, under which
the plan is intended only to support efforts led by the Syrian government. That
creates a politically awkward situation, in that much of the need is in
rebel-held areas.
If the war goes on for another year, Mr. Hallaj
said, Syria “will be reduced to the bottom of the development ladder, along
with countries like Somalia and Yemen,” a shocking fall for a country that
before the war produced most of its own food and medicine, and despite
worsening economic inequality had a strong social safety net and educational
system by regional standards.
The Syrian government prides itself on
continuing to pay salaries even in areas controlled by the opposition, and in
some cities local ministry offices continue to work with United Nations
agencies. But the estimated $10 billion the government used to pump annually
into local spending for social services, utilities, subsidies and the like has
mostly evaporated, Mr. Hallaj said.
Aid workers and analysts warn that as the war
continues into its third winter — with harvests depleted by fighting — deaths
from hunger, disease and cold could begin to exceed those from the violence,
which has already killed 115,000 people. A trickle of reported malnutrition
deaths of sick and vulnerable people in blockaded areas could be a harbinger of
more widespread famine, aid workers say.
In Damascus recently, where most United Nations
agencies work in the otherwise nearly empty Four Seasons Hotel, aid workers
offered example after example of how their sizable efforts remain a drop in the
bucket.
Barbara Atherly, the head of Unicef’s education
program in Syria, said that the agency was providing one million children with
schooling, increasingly by distributing educational materials to families and
communities to organize lessons themselves, since many schools have been destroyed
and teachers have dispersed.
But more than three million children are
directly affected by the crisis, Unicef’s Syria director, Youssouf Abdel-Jelil,
said, including more than two million internally displaced and another million
in hard-to-reach conflict areas. That does not include more than a million
children who have fled the country.
Over all, two million children have not had
regular access to schooling in the past year, he said, adding that as the
conflict continues, “there is a real risk of a lost generation of Syrians.”
The World Food Program is feeding three million
people a month, plying dangerous roads with 1,200 trucks and employing 9,000
people. But that leaves two million displaced people without food aid, and
understates the need in pockets where deliveries have not reached in months.
Those areas include rebel-held suburbs of
Damascus blockaded by the government and government-held parts of Aleppo.
“Their situation is dire,” said Matthew
Hollingworth, the food program’s Syria director. Hundreds of thousands of
people are living on what food they can grow and the small amounts of food they
can get past checkpoints, he said, as stored food stocks dwindle “to a
frighteningly low level.”
Tarik Jasarevic, a spokesman for the World
Health Organization, said that replacing the prescription drugs once provided
by the government would cost $500 million yearly, dwarfing his agency’s entire
budget in Syria.
In the southern province of Dara’a, a third of
health workers have fled, especially from rural areas, Mr. Abdel-Jelil of
Unicef said. He described one woman who crossed the front lines to bring her
children to the city for vaccines.
Most of all, he said, children are paying the
price in terms of health, education and psychological trauma.
“A lot are talking adult talk, about visas,
about borders, about relatives who are outside of the country,” Mr. Abdel-Jelil
said. “They still have dignity and resilience. But there is a limit to
resilience.”
Source: The New York Time
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