Syrians continue to flock to Lebanon after the regime’s fall

BEIRUT — Early Sunday mornings, the narrow, winding streets of Beirut’s Burj al-Barajneh camp are calm and quiet, save for an occasional moped. Some of the earliest risers—shopkeepers and day laborers—greet each other in passing in Syrian Arabic as they start their day. An estimated 15,000 Syrians live in the camp, far outnumbering its original Palestinian inhabitants.

Muhammad Khalid, 28, is one of Burj al-Barajneh’s newest residents. A Syrian-Palestinian from the Rukn al-Din neighborhood of Damascus, he arrived in Lebanon only a month ago after paying a smuggler $150 to spirit him over the border. Khalid was among thousands of prisoners who were freed across Syria as opposition groups swept through the country and toppled the Assad regime last December.  

Suddenly released from Adra Prison on the northeastern outskirts of Damascus, “I experienced beautiful feelings after two and a half years in prison. I was oppressed but thank God,” he told Syria Direct. “I walked for three hours on foot to get home to my daughter.”

However, one month later he said goodbye to his three-year-old daughter once again, heading for Lebanon to look for work. “I want to feed my family, to let them live,” he explained.

Prior to his incarceration, Khalid worked in construction. Today, he is open to any type of job he can find, and plans to work for a year and save up before returning to Syria. “Moving around [here] is difficult because I don’t have residency,” he added.

Many Syrians and Syrian-Palestinians in Lebanon settle in camps like Burj al-Barajneh to avoid security checks by Lebanese authorities, who delegate control to Palestinian factions. However, if they venture outside without residency they risk being detained and deported. 

Read more: Syrians find refuge in Lebanon’s Palestinian camps

The UN estimates that 69,000 Syrians have arrived in Lebanon since the Assad regime fell on December 8. The true number may be significantly higher, as smuggling operations make it difficult to track all movements across the border.

While the security situation has improved in many parts of Syria, Syrians like Khalid continue to flock to Lebanon for economic reasons. Some refugees in Lebanon when the regime fell returned temporarily, only to turn back after finding destroyed homes, poor living conditions and few ways to make a living in their home country. But with the Assad regime gone, voices calling for the repatriation of refugees to Syria are growing louder in Lebanon, as in Europe.

Syrians return to Lebanon

From October to November of last year, Israel waged an intense military campaign against Hezbollah across much of Lebanon, driving a half-a-million Syrians and Lebanese to flee across the border to Syria. 

Aisha Abdullah, 47, who also lives in Burj al-Barajneh, was among those who sought refuge in Syria. She walked for three hours with her nine children, traversing the Masnaa border crossing that had been repeatedly bombed by Israel, rendering the road to Damascus inaccessible by car. 

While Abdullah’s family is originally from Syria’s eastern Deir e-Zor city, they stayed in Damascus, knowing that their home was in ruins. “When we got there, there was nothing, no house, no work, nothing,” she said. 

Just days before Assad fell, Abdullah decided to return to Lebanon. “I stayed two months then left my two daughters with their aunt in Syria. I came back to work—a kilo of potatoes was 12,000 SYP ($0.81 at the time),” she said. In Syria, the average monthly salary is 300,000 SYP ($20). She paid $290 to be smuggled back into Lebanon after border authorities refused to admit her with her UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) documents.

While work opportunities are limited in the aftermath of Israel’s war on Lebanon, Abdullah has more hope of finding a job there than in Syria. Before the war, she worked as a cleaner in Dahiya, the Hezbollah-controlled southern suburbs of Beirut that faced the brunt of Israel’s campaign alongside other predominantly Shiite regions, such as the Bekaa valley. Abdullah’s employer was also displaced, and she is still searching for a new job. 

Umm Faisal, 41, returned from Lebanon to Syria for the first time since 2017 in January, around a month after the regime fell. Leaving her husband and children behind in Lebanon, she visited her ailing mother in Aleppo city, where her hopes of a long-term return soon faded. 

“Our house is destroyed. There’s no work, there’s no liquidity, employees don’t have salaries,” she said, echoing Abdullah’s experience. Two weeks later, Um Faisal came back to Lebanon, paying a smuggler $100 to cross the border. 

Muhammad Fadel, 40, sent his wife and five children back to Syria when war broke out in Lebanon last October. The following month, he made the seven-hour journey to Raqqa city to visit them, and was still in the country when Assad fell a few weeks later. “We didn’t think it would fall so fast,” he reflected.

Still, Fadel did not think twice about returning to Lebanon. “The new government needs time, at least a year, and for the Caesar sanctions to be lifted so that people can live. Otherwise the situation will remain stifled,” he said.

Read more: As Syria embarks on fragile transition, sanctions stand in the way

“The living situation is difficult, below zero,” Fadel said. Electricity comes for only two hours per day, although the new government in Damascus promised to increase it to eight hours per day by early March. “My mother and father depend on me,” he added. In Syria, his father earns $20 per month from his teacher’s pension, far from enough to get by. 

In Lebanon, Fadel earns $500 per month running a shop that recycles metals in Burj al-Barajneh. While his rent and expenses are high, he makes more than he would in Syria.

While Fadel has his reservations, Abdullah is more optimistic for Syria’s future. “God willing, the new government will be better. Now it is better of course. Men couldn’t move around because of military service,” she said. 

Under the former regime, the ever-present threat of conscription and arrest sharply constrained many men’s freedom of movement, and was one of the leading drivers of migration. While this threat is gone, the security situation in Syria is not fully stable, with an Israeli incursion in the southwest and tensions with the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) in the northeast.

Increased pressure on Syrians in Lebanon

For many of the estimated 1.5 million Syrian refugees in Lebanon, returning permanently to Syria is still inconceivable, at least for now, even as they face daunting obstacles in Lebanon.

“Since we don’t have residency, they [Lebanese authorities] can stop us at any time,” Umm Faisal said fearfully. Without a Lebanese guarantor, her family cannot apply for residency. High fees and onerous paperwork also prevent many Syrians from applying.

In addition to detentions at checkpoints and deportations, Syrian refugee camps have been systematically raided and dismantled by the Lebanese security forces with increasing frequency in recent months, Mohammad Hasan, executive director of the Lebanon-based Access Center for Human Rights (ACHR), told Syria Direct. 

“The tightening of restrictions on Syrian refugees in Lebanon is increasing at a notable pace and takes multiple forms of political, security and social pressures,” he said.

“Governmental and [political] party statements have escalated, emphasizing the need for Syrian refugees to return to Syria, without looking at the security and political risks that they will face there,” he added. “These continuous statements feed a hostile environment against refugees and increase the psychological and social pressures on them.” 

Within less than a week of the regime’s fall, Lebanese Prime Minister Nabij Mikati called for Syrian refugees to return home, citing “fierce competition for jobs and services.” Lebanese President Joseph Aoun reiterated these calls, calling for their repatriation “as soon as possible.”

UNHCR Lebanon spokesperson Lisa Abou Khaled said “no substantive policy changes” have taken place in Lebanon since the Assad regime fell, adding the agency is discussing ways to “support the government of Lebanon in assisting refugees who are ready to return.” 

Sources Syria Direct spoke to in Burj al-Barajneh said UNHCR cash assistance for refugees was paused at the start of February. The agency moved to reduce spending at the end of January, just after the United States—a major international donor that accounted for a fifth of UNHCR’s 2024 budget—announced a freeze on most foreign aid. 

“UNHCR and WFP maintain a joint cash program which has not been terminated,” Abou Khaled told Syria Direct in response. However, “the program is likely to be affected by less funding availability in 2025, which  will in turn affect the number of people who will be able to benefit from cash assistance.”

While many Syrians still prefer to live and work in Lebanon, the walls are closing in. As of January, Umm Faisal’s 12-year-old daughter cannot attend school. Last summer, at least two municipalities announced that Syrian refugees had to have residency to be able to rent a home, work or enroll their children in school. 

This year, the Beirut, al-Marj and Ayaat municipalities followed suit, banning even those registered as refugees with the UNHCR from attending public schools, according to ACHR. While Syrian children without residency were banned from attending school in 2021, the law has only recently been implemented.  

For now, Umm Faisal’s daughter’s dreams of studying Arabic literature have been put on hold, and the family is weighing two difficult futures: one in Syria and the other in Lebanon.

*Note: This piece was updated on 2/26/2025 to include comments received from UNHCR Lebanon regarding reports of a cash assistance pause.