Cells, interrogation rooms, inscriptions: The need to protect evidence in Assad’s prisons

The moment more than 50 years of the Assad family’s rule of Syria came to an end on Sunday, Syrians in the country and around the world turned their focus to one place: Saydnaya, the notorious military prison just outside Damascus known as the “human slaughterhouse.” Hundreds flocked to the site, searching for their detained and disappeared relatives and loved ones.

As opposition forces led by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) pushed south from Aleppo to Damascus throughout the previous week, they captured prison after prison, tearing open the doors and freeing thousands from inside in chaotic and jubilant scenes. 

By the time the regime fell, the Aleppo Central Prison, Hama Central Prison and Homs Central Prison were empty, alongside other detention sites. Videos posted online showed men, women and children emerging in a state of panic and astonishment. 

At the same time, this chaotic emptying of Assad’s archipelago of prisons and detention centers led to “large amounts of evidence being tampered with,” Nour al-Khatib, the head of the Detention and Enforced Disappearance Department at the Syrian Network for Human Rights (SNHR) said. 

In an interview with Syria Direct, al-Khatib—who was herself detained by the regime in 2012—discussed her personal and professional experience with Syria’s prisons, and explained how these sites should be managed in the days to come. 

‘Pain and survival’

Al-Khatib, 31, is from al-Bab al-Qibli, one of Hama’s oldest neighborhoods. She became involved in revolutionary activity days after the city’s first protest on March 25, 2011, and her media, humanitarian and medical work continued until she was arrested by regime military intelligence on April 3, 2012. She was detained for nine months, spending most of that time in the Homs Military Prison.

Upon her release, al-Khatib tried to stay in Hama, but ultimately fled the city in mid-2013, heading to the opposition-controlled countryside to the north. After spending six years in northwestern Syria, she moved to Turkey, where she remains today, eager to finally return home. 

When opposition forces announced they took control of Hama city on December 5, al-Khatib was overwhelmed with happiness. “It is not just a city. It holds large parts of my memories from childhood and the revolution. It contains the personal details of my life and pain,” she said. “The liberation of Hama is a collective matter for all of its people. We could say that their memories of the 1982 massacres will [also] be liberated and brought to light.” 

“I left my city 12 years ago, almost a year after I got out of prison,” she said. “I didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye to my family. It was like being pulled out by the roots. I was 21 years old then, you can imagine this harsh experience at that age.”

As opposition forces began emptying Syria’s prisons, al-Khatib said she wanted to visit her cell in Homs Military Prison—“the place where I directly experienced injustice and cruelty.” Going back would not only be “just for the sake of visiting, but also to remind myself and others of the serious violations Syrians suffered,” she added. “That cell symbolizes pain and survival at the same time.” 

Emptying the prisons

“Watching videos of prisoners’ liberation stirred up very deep emotions in me,” al-Khatib said. “I felt joy for those who finally obtained freedom after indescribable suffering,” while recalling “the men and women who were detained with me, many of whom did not have this opportunity [to survive], and some whose fate is still unknown.” The images themselves “were a vivid reminder of the importance of justice and the continuing work to release all the detainees,” she said. 

However, “this stage requires careful documentation to ensure the fates of all prisoners are known,” al-Khatib stressed. On Monday, SNHR issued an appeal to families of Syria’s detained and forcibly disappeared people to reach out directly to inquire about their loved ones by email or WhatsApp. It also shared a link to document cases of detention. 

Since opposition forces began freeing prisoners during Operation Deterring Aggression, “our teams have been working 24 hours a day, including field monitors deployed in all Syrian provinces. Sometimes, we reinforce the team in areas seeing new prison releases,” she said. At the same time, “we communicate with those released to collect information and ways to contact their relatives,” and receive “thousands of messages a day from people asking if their children are among those released.” 

People gather as the Syrian Civil Defense (White Helmets) and experts search for hidden basements at the Saydnaya Prison outside Damascus, 9/12/2024 (Abdulaziz Ketaz/AFP)

“There was chaos as detainees were released. A lot of records and evidence, including in Saydnaya, were tampered with,” al-Khatib said. Amid the chaos, the “volume of misinformation being circulated” is another challenge. “People are saying there are basements under Saydnaya, while the civil defense and other experts said there are no indications that detainees remain in these places,” she added. 

“Committees with experience in opening prisons and dealing with detention centers should have been formed, especially with the Military Operations Department [the operations room overseeing the HTS-led offensive] knowing it was advancing in areas with prisons,” al-Khatib said. “These teams should have been accompanied by humanitarian organizations to provide urgent care as soon as people were released.” 

Many videos widely circulating on social media “show the detainees in a state of shock,” she said. “Detainees are cut off from the world. Suddenly, the door opens without them knowing what is going on and who these people are.” It would have been better for “organizations or individuals to enter the cells, tell them what happened in Syria, provide urgent care and then transfer them to suitable locations,” she added.

“The prisoners came out and were left in the streets. Believe me, most do not know how to contact their families, and do not have their numbers memorized,” al-Khatib said. This chaos needs “to be controlled as much as possible. A lot of evidence has been tampered with, and huge numbers of people came out dazed and traumatized.” 

Detention centers and security branches should be treated “as crime scenes, they should not be touched at all—not the documents inside, not the torture instruments, not even the cells,” al-Khatib said. “I don’t know if it is too late, or if we can do something.” 

“Detainees’ official records and administrative records are at the forefront of evidence that must be preserved and not tampered with. Similarly, the design of cells, interrogation rooms and collective detention areas should remain intact, because they could serve as physical evidence,” she added. “Equipment or torture instruments should be retained as physical evidence showing the extent of the violations,” while “recordings, photographs and notes taken during the process of releasing detainees should be preserved and archived.” 

At a personal level, “the architecture of cells and prisons is an important piece of my individual and collective memory,” al-Khatib said. “Visiting them may help detainees confront complex emotions, whether to gain strength or transform this experience into a humanitarian message.” 

“The walls of these sites have inscriptions and letters we wrote with our own hands. Leaving them unaltered preserves the voices of those who lived the experience and immortalizes their impact,” she said. “You may be surprised, or feel it is an irrational request, but if I could preserve the very smell of the prisons, I would.”  

This report was originally published in Arabic and translated into English by Mateo Nelson.