Permits, politics and patience: the reality of getting aid into Syria
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Version 0 of 1. With his blue helmet strapped to matching flak jacket and sweating in the scorching summer sun, a UN official watches carefully as hundreds of cardboard boxes are loaded on to a small truck that is about to enter the Yarmouk refugee camp in the southern suburbs of Damascus. Armed with no more than a clipboard, biro and endless patience, the man from the UN Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) follows a familiar routine as he banters with the security men guarding the entrance under the obligatory picture of an unsmiling President Bashar al-Assad. It is only the third time deliveries have been permitted after a six-week gap – an occupational hazard for international aid workers trying to feed nearly 11 million people in desperate need in war-torn Syria. In the boxes are portions of rice, oil, lentils, flour, milk and sugar for a family of four. Today’s consignment goes smoothly, though just before the truck passes the checkpoint there is a burst of heavy machine gun fire from inside the camp. “It’s normal,” shrugs Abdul Rahman, the UN man, without batting an eyelid. Yarmouk is surrounded by government forces but controlled by armed Palestinian factions, as well as Syrian rebels. Its remaining 18,000 residents are hostage to bouts of fighting, the scars of which are visible on the burned-out and shell-damaged buildings overlooking the main road into the city centre. Sheets hanging over the security office mask the view from snipers. Yarmouk’s grim plight has had a good deal of publicity internationally, partly thanks to stunning photos of vast crowds queueing for food in ruined streets – though the suffering of Palestinians in Syria has been overshadowed by the latest bloodshed in Gaza, also inhabited by people who have been refugees since the creation of Israel in 1948. But UN agencies are at work across the country, dealing with the physical dangers of a conflict that has cost 170,000 lives in the past three and half years. They are also negotiating the obduracy and capriciousness of a government whose permission was, until recently, required for every aspect of aid operations. Mindful of that dependence, officials are wary of talking publicly, or too critically, about the hurdles they face. But there is no mistaking their frustration. “The humanitarian issues that concern us are subordinate to the cause of the parties to the conflict,” one senior figure says carefully. “Yarmouk is a reflection of what is happening more generally across Syria. And government decision-making is entirely unpredictable. When it feels confident, as it does now, it is more likely to ease up. When it feels it has its back to the wall, as it did in mid-2012, the gates are slammed shut. “But the dilemma is this: do you withdraw and risk starvation or do you say ‘they’ve opened the door a tiny crack, let’s just get our finger in and defend the tiny space they’ve given us and expect that with continuing pressure we will manage to expand that space?’ This is the position we’ve been pushed into.” Syrian officials, often accused of using starvation as a weapon, worry about food going to “terrorists” – their catch-all label for any opposition to Assad. The UN response is that scarcity enhances the value of food and makes it easier for armed groups to hold sway. But even when deliveries are allowed they face seemingly endless bureaucratic restrictions, time-wasting searches and other forms of harassment. Deliveries to Yarmouk during Ramadan went unusually well. Critics complain that the UN depends too heavily on co-operation with the government. The International Committee of the Red Cross has been particularly outspoken on this point. “The UN waits too long to get access to one besieged area even though international law clearly permits it,” argues a Syrian involved in below-the-radar humanitarian work – the sort that comes, unlike government assistance, with no strings attached. “How many letters do you send? Do you negotiate the number of items you can take? If there is a need for 10,000 food parcels and you are only allowed to take in 1,500, what do you do about crowd control during distribution? These UN people fall into the same trap again and again.” Privately, some aid workers agree. Permits are required for everything, from visas for staff to visits in the field. Several different Syrian security agencies have to be dealt with. This is a particularly difficult part of a system of constraints unparalleled anywhere in the world. It took more than 20 requests before the UN was finally able to reach Moadamiyeh, a besieged rebel-held enclave near Damascus last month. That was the first food and medical care delivered to its 24,000 people since the end of 2012. “The Syrians play all kinds of games,” sighs one veteran. “They say they will allow an aid convoy to go but then still don’t give us the green light. The environment in Damascus is suffocating. The government is very controlling and we are too silent and too patient.” Winning arguments about access got harder after the resignation of the UN’s last Syria envoy, Lakhdar Brahimi. “Most governments in conflict situations are not averse to their people getting the help they need and in some ways the regime benefits from that,” says a western diplomat. “But in Syria they do not appear to care at all. Humanitarian work is heavily politicised.” Still, there is a ray of light in the gloom. In mid-July the UN security council – normally paralysed by its divisions over Syria – unanimously passed resolution 2165 to allow the delivery of aid across the country’s borders. Crucially, that can now be done without the permission of the government in Damascus, though monitors do check all consignments. Two convoys have already gone in from Turkey and Jordan to rebel-held areas. Access from Iraq is more difficult because of the volatile security situation there. If all the designated crossings can be used the UN says it will be able to reach an additional 2.9 million Syrians who are in need. That would represent a significant rebalancing of the tension between state sovereignty and the principle of unrestricted humanitarian access. With no diplomatic solution in sight for the Syrian conflict, and little prospect of a clear military victory by either side, boosting aid deliveries looks like the best option available to the international community. “If you can’t end the war,” says one senior official, “then at least try to de-escalate it and to diminish the impact on civilians.” |