Prisoners, who survived Saydnaya prison, telling their stories of resilience and survival
Originally published on Global Voices
Najah al-bukai, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Saydnaya Prison, a notorious detention facility located just outside of Damascus, Syria, has become a symbol of human rights abuses and the horrors of Syria's ongoing civil war. For years, it has been a place where thousands of Syrians, from political dissidents to ordinary civilians, have faced unimaginable torture, inhumane treatment, and death. Prisoners who survived often tell stories of resilience and survival, each uniquely painful, each equally compelling. Here are five such stories that shed light on the terrifying realities of life within the walls of Saydnaya.
One of the most odd stories from Saydnaya is the “Blind Sniper”. He was a civilian, swept into the prison system due to his vague connections with an anti-regime group.
According to an interview with Al-Marsad Newspaper, a former Syrian prisoner told the story of a blind prisoner who was detained inside Saydnaya prison in the Damascus countryside on charges of “sniper with the opposition”.
We were in prison and suddenly they opened the door and brought in a blind person, and we talked to him and asked him if he had gone to the judge and he said: “When I entered the judge, he asked me when I became blind, so I told him I was born blind, and the judge said to me: “It is written in your charge ‘sniper’, and I can't do anything to you, go with God”.
He pointed out that this prisoner was from Aleppo, and he was the person who suffered the most in prison from Aleppo, especially those who were imprisoned since 2016 and 2017, and most of them died in Saydnaya prison.
One of the most grotesque practices at Saydnaya was the use of “salt rooms” – a form designed to preserve the bodies of those executed, according to Agence France-Presse, who published testimonies from former detainees in the Syrian regime's Saydnaya prison. They told horrific stories about the “salt rooms,” which are halls for storing corpses that the regime began using during the years of conflict that erupted in 2011, with the increasing number of deaths inside the prison. The Association of Detainees and the Missing in Saydnaya Prison says that the prison administration resorted to the salt rooms because there are no refrigerators sufficient to store the bodies of detainees who die there almost daily because of torture.
Prisoners who were not executed but merely left in these rooms often had to witness the remains of their fellow detainees deteriorate in silence. The practice was aimed not only at preserving the bodies, but also at crushing the souls of the living, ensuring they understood the fate awaiting them.
In additional research and interviews with former inmates, AFP found that at least two such salt rooms were created inside Sednaya.
For one man, this experience became a constant reminder of the cruelty of the regime. He would recount how he and other prisoners would stare at the preserved bodies, knowing that at any moment, they could be the next to be mummified in the salt. It was a horrific form of psychological warfare – the salt rooms were not just a way of preserving bodies; they were a manifestation of the regime's utter disregard for human life.
Mazen Hamada’s story is one of sacrifice and activism in the face of brutal oppression. A former student and an outspoken critic of the regime, Mazen became one of the many Syrians detained under suspicion of being a dissenter. His story, however, is one that exemplifies the many ways the Syrian government sought to crush any opposition.
Mazen al-Hamada, 46 years, was a Syrian activist from Deir ez-Zor, Hamada was imprisoned and tortured for more than a year and a half for participating in anti-government protests. After being exiled from Syria, he became an asylum seeker in the Netherlands, where he publicly testified to the abuse he suffered. In 2020, Hamada became the victim of enforced disappearance, when he was arrested by Syrian intelligence at the airport upon his return to Syria.
Yet despite the torture, the beatings, and the fear of execution, Mazen’s spirit remained unbroken. His resilience became a symbol of the Syrian people’s collective will to resist oppression. He even wrote secret notes of encouragement, passed along by other prisoners, reminding them that their cause was just and that they must survive to one day fight again.
His body was found in Saydnaya Prison on 8 December 2024 during the fall of the Assad regime. His funeral, held on 12 December, was attended by hundreds of Syrians; he has since been hailed as a martyr and a symbol of the Syrian opposition.
One of the more surreal stories of Saydnaya is that of a Christian official who was arrested after being accused of dissent. His story was published on Aljadid Lebanese TV Facebook page. Below is the translation of his full interview:
I was a reserve officer when I ended up in prison, as I told you. First, were you a civilian? Were you moving around the checkpoints? Yes, I was called up as a reserve officer. They forcibly took us down, armed, and sent us to the military police. We were taken to the Ninth Division, and after arriving there, we packed our things and were transferred to Hama. We stayed in Hama for about four or five days.
It was there that we learned about a peaceful demonstration by children. They told us it was a demonstration, and we were ordered to open fire on them. I couldn’t bring myself to shoot any civilians, especially children. Children are innocent, they have not harmed me in any way, and I couldn’t justify harming them.
“A traitorous officer, an anti-government, Zionist, imperialist agent, accused me of being a sympathizer of the enemy.” The commander had no regard for me. They arrested us and took us away, but I had no idea where they were taking us. I ended up spending a year in that branch. Later, I realized that I had been held in a branch in Damascus.
After a while, we were transferred back to Damascus. They told me we were going to be interrogated. It was the same story again. They crushed me physically and mentally. They even pulled out my teeth. My body was broken, and my spirit crushed. Everything inside me felt broken. For a year, they ignored me, mistreated me, and I was left to suffer.
There were times when we felt like we were nothing more than expendable tools to them. I endured everything. There was an environment of extreme brutality, with severe mistreatment and no regard for our well-being.
In the third or fourth month of my imprisonment, a doctor came to take blood from everyone. He said it was for a health check. About fifteen days later, he called me, saying, “Come here. You are sick. Your test results are bad, and we need to take you to the hospital.” I didn’t know where they were taking me. The hospital was not a proper facility – it was an open ground with no windows, and no one seemed to care for me.
They performed various tests, including CT scans and other procedures. The situation seemed unusual, but I didn’t understand what was happening. One day, I went to see the doctor, and he gave me an injection. I don’t know what it was, but after that, I woke up feeling disoriented.
When I came to my senses, I was in immense pain. I saw the stitches and bandages covering me. It took me a moment to realize something had gone terribly wrong. When I saw the cameras, I understood. They had operated on me. They had taken my kidney. I don’t know where it went or if they sold it, but they removed it without my consent.
When I regained consciousness, I was stitched up from one side to the other. The pain was excruciating. It felt like they had stitched through six layers of skin. I was in agony and could hardly move. The least I could say was, “Thank you,” but it was a sarcastic remark, addressing those who treated me like an animal.
They returned me to my cell, and I continued to suffer. I didn’t get better immediately. I stayed there for about two weeks, and every week, they changed my wound dressing once. After that, we were moved again.
My name is George Elias Nader. Yes, I am a Christian. And in prison, that was all they saw. Christian or not, it didn’t matter. You were treated as less than human. Whether you were underground or above ground, it made no difference. You were just another prisoner, another victim of the regime.
Saydnaya Prison after been opened for public. Telegram, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Mustafa Khalifa is a Syrian novelist, political writer and former prisoner of conscience, awarded Ibn Rushd Prize for Freedom of Thought, Germany, in 2015. He became first known for his autobiographical novel The Shell: Memoirs of a Hidden Observer that has been translated into several languages. The writer introduces himself as “Mustafa Khalifa, a Catholic Christian, an atheist, who lived in Paris, studied there and graduated as a film director. He wanted to return to his country, Syria, to serve this nation,” and he did not know that his return would mean entering one of the toughest prisons in the world.
Below is a paragraph of his famous book about his days in Saydnaya prison:
More than a year ago, while breathing in one of the dormitories, a sergeant was standing in the shadow of the wall. A mouse passed in front of him, so he crushed it with his military boot. The mouse was mauled and died. The sergeant took a tissue from his pocket and grabbed it by the tail with the tissue. He approached the rows of prisoners circling the yard. He grabbed one of the prisoners randomly and forced him to swallow the mouse. The prisoner swallowed the mouse.
Since that day, sergeants and police officers have spent a significant part of their time catching mice, cockroaches and lizards and forcing prisoners to swallow them. They all did this work, but its innovation, “creativity,” goes back to the first sergeant who did this work.
I looked through the hole, there were eight bodies hanging from the ropes, and many more bodies on the ground, these eight bodies seemed to be the last meal, the monster “the municipal element” stands in front of the second body from the left, which is the body of a fat man, the monster holds a thick stick in his hand and beats the body with it, the police watch him laughing, and with every hit of the stick on the body he shouts loudly:
- Long live the beloved president… With our souls and blood, we will sacrifice for you, O President… “And a hit of the stick on the body”… And to you, you dog, you work against the president… And a hit of the stick… To you, O… Our president is the best president… A hit of the stick… The president before God we worship him… A hit of the stick… And the rhythm is disturbed… Many hits of the stick”
Saydnaya Prison is a place of unimaginable suffering, where countless individuals have endured torture, humiliation, and death. Yet, the stories of survival and resilience are just as powerful as the horrors that occurred within its walls. Each of these individuals, among other untold stories, represent the unbreakable will of those who refused to be silenced by the regime. Their stories are the stories of Syria’s struggle for freedom and justice.
