“Allah bless Erdogan, Allah bless the governor, Allah bless Turkey.” Praise for Turkey’s prime minister, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, and his ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) is in short supply amid a wave of anti-government protests that have rocked the country since May 31. But these words from Leila Bitar, a middle-aged mother of seven, are widely echoed among some 1,350 Syrian Sunnis who have taken refuge at the Altinozu Camp, about 20 kilometers (12.5 miles) inside Turkey.
The converted tobacco warehouse is among 18 camps set up to accommodate the flood of Syrians fleeing their country’s 2-year-long civil war.
Leila’s story is typical. Her son Aladdin, a fighter in the Free Syrian Army, died in battle eight months ago at age 30. Two other sons, who are still fighting, come every so often to visit her and rest at the camp. Like many here, Leila seems unfazed by President Bashar al-Assad’s recent victories on the ground. “We will defeat the dog,” she declares.
Life at Atlinozu is deceptively normal. The aroma of freshly baked flatbread wafts through the air. Business is brisk at a clutch of small shops selling candy and shampoo. In pristine makeshift classrooms, children learn to read and write in Arabic. They are taught Turkish as well. Beshar Mergan, an English teacher from Latakia in northwest Syria, says textbooks have been purged of all references to the Assads.
Families are given their own rooms. Refugees can leave during the daylight hours to shop with their monthly 80-lira ($43) monthly ration provided by the government. “Seventy-one babies were born here,” beams a camp manager, who declines to give his name.
Even critics of Turkey’s interventionist Syrian policy concede that Turkey has done an impressive job of caring for the refugees. “Compared to others, the ones in Turkey are definitely much better,” comments Majid Badawi, a Palestinian social worker who was born in a refugee camp in southern Lebanon.
As the conflict rages on, the number of refugees continues to swell. There were nearly 200,000 of them at last count. Recent polls suggest that there is little support for the government’s Syria policy. And with a further 300,000 unregistered Syrians scattered across the country, Turkey is feeling the strain. A Turkish Foreign Ministry official who deals with the problem told Al-Monitor that the government had spent a staggering $1 billion on the refugees since April 2011.
With no place left to accommodate them, Turkey has in recent months denied entry to about 10,000 refugees piled up at the border. Reports of clashes between Turkish border guards and refugees trying to force their way through have become alarmingly common.
The Foreign Ministry official says four more sites are under construction to make room for the stranded refugees. One, slated for Syrian Orthodox Christians, is rising in Mardin, home to Turkey’s own tiny community of “Syriacs.” But the rest are being built well away from the border in the provinces of Malatya, Osmaniye and Aksaray.
The reason that new arrivals will be parked well inside the country is because of growing social tensions caused by the large number of Syrians in the border provinces. Resentment runs especially high in Hatay, where there are five separate camps, more than in any other province. Hatay is also home to Turkey’s 40,000 strong Arab Alawites, who are closely bound to fellow Alawites in Syria and make no secret of their support for Assad.
Unsurprisingly, Hatay’s Alawites have been at the forefront of the anti-government demonstrations in the provincial capital, Antakya. Their fury grew when Abdullah Can Comert, a 22-year-old Arab Alawite, died on June 4 during clashes between protesters and the police. A member of the youth branch of the pro-secular Republican People’s Party (CHP), Comert died from head injuries caused by blows to his head. Long before the troubles erupted locals complained of “armed, bearded Syrians” who “strolled freely” in the streets. Rumors of others who walk out of restaurants and taxis without paying the tab abound. The claims are exaggerated. Yet, few would deny that Hatay is a critical hub for the rebels and that the camps double up as rest and recruiting centers for them.
Officials at Altinozu acknowledge that many men do leave the camp only to return several weeks later. “We have no idea where they go, but many have wives and children here, so we allow them to return on compassionate grounds,” a camp official told Al-Monitor. He insisted that no weapons were permitted inside the camp.
Serif Cirkin, a far-right Nationalist Action Party lawmaker from Hatay, told Al-Monitor that he was “inundated with complaints about the Syrians.” He argues that the social and economic impact of the refugees was never properly assessed “because Erdogan believed that Assad would fall within months.”
Many blame the government’s support for the rebels for the twin car bomb explosions that ripped through the border town of Reyhanli on May 11, leaving 53 people dead and dozens injured. Populated by mainly Sunni Arabs, Reyhanli was a popular destination for thousands of Sunni Syrian refugees and rebels of varying stripes. But minutes after the explosion, locals turned on the Syrians. Some were beaten and their cars were smashed. Hasan Kanbolat, an expert on Middle Eastern affairs, says “racism” against the Syrians is on the rise. “Many who survived doing menial jobs are now being turned away. With no means to support themselves they are returning to Syria,” Kanbolat said.
Even so, Turkey remains a critical rear base for the rebels. “You can easily spot them: They have long flowing beards but no mustaches,” explains Cirkin. “Look around you,” he added. “Antakya is full of spies.”
Back in Altinozu, most residents say they continue to feel welcome in Turkey. “The Turks are our brothers, we truly love them and feel loved by them,” said Khalil Meluhe, who worked as a chef in the town of Jisr al Shoughour in Idlib province before fleeing here with his five children. “All beautiful girls,” he proudly adds.
Yet amid all the smiles, a thick cloud of sorrow clots the air. Trauma among the children is especially acute, according to Badawi, the social worker. “Their drawings are filled with decapitated bodies, planes raining bombs. Children are the true victims of this savage war,” he said.
Amberin Zaman is an Istanbul-based writer who has covered Turkey for The Washington Post, The Los Angeles Times, The Daily Telegraph and the Voice of America. A frequent commentator on Turkish television, she is currently Turkey correspondent for The Economist, a position she has retained since 1999. On Twitter: @amberinzaman
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