Blackmail and scams: Digital violence stalks women in northwestern Syria

IDLIB — Susan Abdulrahman (a pseudonym), had little choice. Last year, she was forced to hand over gold jewelry and money to a man who was blackmailing her with the threat of posting fabricated “immodest” photos and videos on social media. 

Abdulrahman, a 27-year-old living in a displacement camp in Idlib province, fell victim to digital violence—online extortion, intimidation and harassment—that is rampant in Syria’s opposition-controlled northwest, with women particularly vulnerable. 

A recent survey of 115 women in the southern Idlib countryside town of Hass by the local Women’s Empowerment Office found that 53 percent reported facing some form of digital violence. Of them, 74 percent did not know the identity of the perpetrator. 

Digital violence is “any act of violence that is committed, assisted or aggravated by the use of information and communication technology (mobile phones, the internet, social media, computer games, text messaging, email, etc) against a woman because she is a woman,” according to UN Women. This can include cyberbullying, sending explicit messages without consent and doxing—publicizing personal information without consent. 

Abdulrahman’s story began in mid-2022, when she was contacted online by a young man who said he was looking for marriage. After the two began talking, “he asked to meet to get to know each other, expressing his interest in marriage,” she told Syria Direct. “I agreed, because I was looking for a life partner, too.” 

The pair met repeatedly without the knowledge of their parents, with the intention of planning for marriage. But the man “was always putting it off, with the excuse of finishing his business project to finance the marriage,” she said. Over time, “he asked for money, saying it was so the project wouldn’t fail. I gave him gold bracelets and cash, but he kept stalling,” she added. Finally, she refused to meet with him again. 

“He threatened to publish fabricated photos and videos of me unless I agreed to meet him, so I agreed out of fear of disgrace” in front of her family and community, as their meetings went against the community’s customs and traditions, Abdulrahman said. He began to exploit her, demanding more money and threatening “again to publish photos.” 

Seven months ago, Abdulrahman sought help from a lawyer who specializes in cases of violence against women. The lawyer sent a voice recording “to him from my phone, threatening to press charges if he did not stop the threats,” she said. 

At first, the man feigned indifference, then told her he had left the country. Abdulrahman changed her phone number and created a new Facebook account, ending the “communication problem,” but her money and jewelry was lost.

Unsupportive climate

When the young man stopped blackmailing Abdulrahman, she put the story behind her. Pressing charges against him in the hopes of recovering her money would mean revealing the meetings between them, which she fears. 

Syrian women facing digital violence often prefer to deal with it in silence, due to a lack of community support or laws to protect them, and because violence against women is a deep-rooted issue for cultural, social and legislative reasons. 

Digital violence is on the rise in northwestern Syria for several reasons, most importantly “poverty and a lack of livelihoods, which makes it easier for the aggressor to blackmail the victim,” Nusra al-Araj, the head of the legal office at the Women Empowerment Office in Hass told Syria Direct. “A lack of laws criminalizing digital violence [also] encourages aggressors to continue their crimes, without fear of punishment.” 

In northwestern Syria, where more than half of the population of four million are internally displaced, women—especially those who have lost their breadwinner—clutch at “any hope or opportunity they encounter online, so they fall prey to digital violence,” Raja Salim, a journalist and International Center for Journalism (ICFJ)-certified trainer in combating disinformation, said.

Most cases of digital violence Salim has encountered are “women who responded to job postings and ended up getting involved in conversations with scammers, who exploited this contact to blackmail and threaten them with posting the conversations or fabricating photos of them and sharing them in Facebook groups specific to their areas,” she said. 

Scammers use various methods to exploit and blackmail women, including “using misleading information to lure a person into communication, by offering a fake job or travel opportunity, sending malicious links and files to steal information and accounts, fabricating photos or contacting individuals anonymously while impersonating someone else,” Salim said. 

She recalled the case of one woman who was forced to sell her gold jewelry and borrow money from relatives to pay a man who was blackmailing her so he would “not post a conversation between them and cause a scandal for her in the town,” Salim said. The woman “did not participate in any inappropriate conversation, but her community may consider her guilty simply for communicating with a stranger,” she added. 

One year ago, an unknown individual hacked Sumaya al-Babi’s (a pseudonym) Facebook account by sending a link from a fake account under her brother’s name. When the 24-year-old clicked on it, he gained access to her private information and photos, then threatened to publish them if she did not meet with him, she told Syria Direct. 

Al-Babi was forced to give in to his request, but this led to a spiral of “constant threats,” because the young man took photos and videos of her when she met with him over a period of around three months. 

During that time, al-Babi attended a training discussing violence against women at a women’s center in her area. After it was over, she approached the trainer and told her about her situation. The latter contacted the young man’s mother to put pressure on him, threatening to file a case against him if he did not stop, al-Babi said. 

The young man was not punished for what he did, but al-Babi still felt it was a victory, and that she escaped with the least possible damages. Despite the threat, she did not have the “boldness to file a case, for fear of the scandal,” she said. 

Even if al-Babi and other women facing digital abuse file complaints against those blackmailing them, they have little recourse in the absence of laws criminalizing digital violence in northern Syria, al-Araj said. 

In northern Aleppo, controlled by the opposition Syrian National Army (SNA), Syrian Interim Government (SIG) adopt Syrian regime law “on the surface, without implementing all its provisions,” al-Araj said. Areas such as Idlib, controlled by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) have no laws related to digital violence, as “the judge is a sheikh, and he bases his ruling on Islamic sharia and his own interpretation of the text.” 

Even in regime areas, the law is not a significant deterrent for perpetrators. Cybercrime Law No. 20 of 2022 punishes anyone who uses information technology to publish private information without consent, even if true, with imprisonment of one month to six months and a fine of between 500,000 and 1 million Syrian pounds (between $34 and $68 at the current black market exchange rate of SYP 14,650 to the dollar). 

If a victim wishes to press charges, she must hire a lawyer and “provide evidence, ensuring she is not implicated with him in any meeting or sharing her pictures, as any picture provided by the victim may incriminate the woman,” al-Araj said. She echoed what several women told Syria Direct, that victims often refrain from filing complaints “for fear of scandal,” often “threatening the aggressor with legal action to intimidate him with the [threat of a ] scandal as well.” 

As an alternative way to confront this violence, initiatives have spread to protect women and raise awareness of online risks. One, SalamaTech, seeks to promote safe digital citizenship online and educate Syrians about best practices and tools needed to use the internet safely and effectively. The team has set up a contact mechanism on its website for women who have experienced digital violence to get in touch in a “safe and confidential” manner.

Devastating repercussions

Digital violence, and the exploitation and blackmail that accompanies it, takes a devastating mental, social and economic toll on victims, psychological expert Nisreen al-Batal told Syria Direct. She linked this form of violence against women to “worsening gender-based violence in our Middle Eastern societies.” Victims also often are not able to protect themselves because they do not have a good understanding of technology compared to perpetrators. 

Globally, women are 27 times more likely to be abused online than men, according to UN Women. 

The psychological impacts of digital violence—feelings of fear, anxiety, depression and loss of self-confidence—are the most dangerous for women, al-Batal said. “Some have died by suicide” to escape social repercussions, she added.

Victims feel “stigmatized and ostracized by society,” leading some to “leave their homes or families,” while others “lose their jobs or livelihoods because of blackmail,” al-Batal added. 

Sara Maryamini (a pseudonym), is among those who lost their jobs due to digital violence. She was in a romantic relationship with a man who worked at the same company, and who had personal pictures of her. When she ended the relationship, he “posted the pictures in the work team’s WhatsApp group, which included all our colleagues,” she told Syria Direct. She quit her job as a result. 

Maryamini’s relationship with her colleague was intended to lead to marriage, but she discovered he was considering marrying another woman. When she confronted him, he called her a “whore, and dishonorable,” she said. “I was meeting him surreptitiously, and we exchanged feelings of love,” but nothing more, she said. 

Aisha al-Abdullah (a pseudonym) fell into an extortion trap while looking for a job to support herself and her three children, as she is a widow. The 35-year-old applied for a job at a startup, and received a call from a person claiming to be its director. He requested a video interview over Zoom, during which he refused to turn on his camera while asking her to appear. 

The first online meeting ended with the supposed manager promising to hire al-Abdullah for an administrative position and provide decent housing for her and her children. In other communications, he promised paid travel to Turkey. He also proposed to marry her, provided she stayed in touch with him, she told Syria Direct. 

During their communication, al-Abdullah sent a picture of her identification documents to the individual, as well as personal photos, to complete the hiring process at his request. When he stalled and did not follow through on his promises, she cut off contact. He then threatened to “fabricate pictures of me and publish them,” she said. Under the pressure, she “attempted suicide, but survived thanks to my family’s intervention.”

The man continued to threaten her, telling her he would post “naked pictures of me on Facebook pages in my village, unless I sent $2,000 to Qamishli city,” in northeastern Syria, al-Abdullah said. She gave in, borrowing money from an acquaintance and transferring it to a woman’s name he provided. 

Al-Abdullah was not the scammer’s only victim, as she learned upon contacting a women’s rights activist and providing his information. Other women in her area had fallen into the same trap.

The activist she contacted reached out to another activist in Qamishli to search for the person and reveal his identity. When he learned of these efforts, “he stopped communicating with me,” al-Abdullah said. Today, she is trying to pick up the pieces after an experience that “almost cost me my life and my children.”

In the survey by the Women Empowerment Office in Hass earlier this year, 78 percent of women who experienced digital violence said they contemplated suicide. Some 85 percent confronted their abuser with support or assistance from individuals or organizations, while only three percent were able to do so without assistance. 

How to deal with digital violence? 

With little legal or social support available, women in northwestern Syria can only take preventive measures to protect themselves. This includes learning about digital security and the risks of social media, as well as how to protect themselves from hacking, al-Araj said. 

“Women should not communicate with individuals who are unknown to them or provide any personal documents, for fear they could be used to threaten them in the future,” she warned. 

Those who have fallen prey to scammers or other abusers should seek help from “trusted individuals or specialized organizations,” al-Araj said, noting her office in Hass is “ready to assist victims in any way we can, and they can contact us via Facebook Messenger as a hotline.” 

Iman al-Shartah, the director of the Women Empowerment Office in Hass, emphasized that civil society organizations—especially feminist organizations—have a responsibility to support and assist victims of digital violence. This can mean psychological, legal or social support, as well as “providing shelter, food and water for the most vulnerable.” 

At the same time, organizations should launch “awareness and education programs about online dangers, exploitation and blackmail methods and how to prevent them,” she said, while also “pushing for the enactment of laws criminalizing these crimes and punishing abusers.” 

Since 2019, the Hass office has helped 22 women facing digital violence through mental health support, legal follow-up and consultations, according to al-Shartah. The office discovered many of these cases while implementing activities focused on violence against women.

Susan Abdulrahman may not have her gold or money, but she feels relieved to have turned the page on the blackmail that nearly threatened her life. Al-Babi, however, is still afraid. “He can threaten me at any moment,” she said. 

This report was produced in collaboration with the Women Empowerment Office in Hass as part of Syria Direct’s Sawtna Training Program for women journalists across areas of control in Syria. It was originally published in Arabic and translated into English by Mateo Nelson.