Families Mourn in Kfar Nabel’s Graveyards

Opinion is split on whether those who remain loyal to the government in opposition-held town should be granted funeral rites. Abdallah Klido (Kafr Nabel - Syria) When a muezzin in the opposition stronghold of Kafr Nabel called people to funeral prayers for a fallen Syrian Army soldier most people attending the mosque that afternoon left and went home without joining in. Only the soldier’s relatives and neighbours stayed. [caption id="attachment_7036" align="alignright" width="300"]In the opposition-held town of Kafr Nabel government soldiers are buried without proper funeral rites. Photograph: Abdallah Klido. In the opposition-held town of Kafr Nabel government soldiers are buried without proper funeral rites. Photograph: Abdallah Klido.[/caption] Kafr Nabel, in Syria’s northwestern Idlib province, has been under opposition control since August, 2012. According to the United Nations more than 200,000 people have died in the country’s civil war since it began in March 2011. Anyone in Kafr Nabel who has remained loyal to the regime and dies fighting against the armed opposition is not given a proper funeral and their death is not announced publicly in line with custom. When a funeral is held, it is not one that befits a fallen soldier and often only the deceased’s relatives attend. Abu Teem recently lost his son who died while fighting for the regime. The city’s records show that he was killed at the hands of Islamic State (IS). Although Abu Teem knows the reality of the opposition-controlled town, he felt he still had to announce his son’s death at the mosque. He says his son had tried repeatedly to defect from the regime but had been unable to do so. “I knew that many people would not approve of announcing his death through the mosque loudspeakers as is the custom in the city. Even those closest to me asked me not to do it because they said he died fighting for the wrong side,” he said. “Despite all this, I decided to announce his death at the mosque, since we must do so regardless of the politics of the deceased.” According to Abu Teem “not many people participated” in the prayers he held for his son. “I still opened my house for the funeral,” he said. “I know my son well, and I know that he never hurt anyone. Only God can judge people. Debates abound in Kafr Nabel every time a government soldier dies.  Some make excuses for the deceased and believe they are still entitled to full funeral rites and a formal announcement of their death. Others believe they should not be granted a religious ceremony. One soldier who defected from the regime, Fares al-Jamal, says the latter view is unfair. He argues that some soldiers have remained with the regime because they cannot defect. He uses himself as an example, explaining that he was unable to defect until after he received official permission from his army regiment. He then defected and fled. “It is unfair to deny prayers in the city for those who were killed as regime soldiers- some may have simply not been able to defect,” he said. ”We need to understand their situation.” But other residents of Kafr Nabel take a different view. Ahmad Hbeich, 24, is currently studying religion and he is opposed to members of the regime being granted a funeral. “Those who died fighting for the regime betrayed the blood of the martyrs,” he said. “There is no excuse for people who died on the side of the regime. They are not prayed over, their deaths are not announced, and they are not buried in Muslim cemeteries.” The local council in Kafr Nabel has not made any pronouncements on the subject, preferring to let individual mosques handle things. “We do not intervene in this issue,” said local council head, Adnan al-Qassem. “We only document the deaths in the city, whether the [deceased belongs to] the regime or [is] with the opposition. The religious committees elected by the residents of the city to run its religious affairs are responsible for funerals and the decision is ultimately theirs.” Each mosque in Kafr Nabel is overseen by a committee of residents. One member of the committee responsible for the Aziza mosque in the east of the city who preferred to remain anonymous told Damascus Bureau that he opposes the granting of funerals to members of the regime. “People who remain with the regime choose to stand with the wrong side,” he said. “The committees do not know when a funeral will be held for them in the mosques. If we are told beforehand that there will be a funeral for a regime soldier in the mosque we are responsible for we will of course refuse to pray for him there.” Afeef al-Ammour is the head of Kafr Nabel’s general authority, a body elected by residents to run the city’s affairs, such as forming the local council. Not only does he believe members of the regime are not entitled to a funeral, he does not consider them residents of the city. “Even if my own brother stayed with the regime and was killed I would not pray for him and would not let anyone bring his body to the city for a funeral,” al-Ammour said. Um Ammar, a 45-year-old housewife, takes a more sympathetic view. She considers these soldiers sons of the city, and as such, believes they ought to be prayed for. “They were not able to defect from the regime. We know very well how hard that is,” she said. “Many have been killed trying.” Abbada al-Ansary is the news editor at Kafr Nabel’s Radio Fresh. He agrees with Hbeich and Afeef when it comes to those who remain loyal to the regime of their own free will. But he supports the argument that some cannot defect from the regime and must therefore be granted a funeral. “Some soldiers are prisoners in their military regiments,” he said. “Many of them were killed by the regime, and they ought to be prayed for and given martyr funerals.”    

The city’s cemeteries have become a meeting place to remember and talk about those who have died in the conflict.

Mustapha al-Jalal 

(Kfar Nabel – Syria) Abu Maher knows that his wife’s grave only contains a purse but he continues to visit it every day.

When he is there he feels the presence of her soul and he talks to her as if she were right there with him.

Mohammad al-Bayoush visiting his daughter’s grave. Photograph: Mustapha al-Jalal.
Mohammad al-Bayoush visiting his daughter’s grave. Photograph: Mustapha al-Jalal.

Um Maher was killed by a rocket from a government fighter jet in Kfar Nabel’s city centre on August 28, 2012. Her body was never found and she was only identified after her purse was discovered near the spot where she was killed.

It was decided that the purse should be buried in what has come to be known in the city as the “martyr’s graveyard”.

While visiting graves has always been common practice for Syrians, remembering the dead in this way has become a more frequent activity since the start of the armed conflict in 2011.

“The prophet, peace be upon him, encouraged us to visit graves so that we may remember our mortality and repent, work hard, remember the afterlife, and pray for the dead because they are in need of supplication. Visiting graves is a religious requirement,” said Dafer al-Issa, a local sheikh.

In Kfar Nabel, burying the dead is governed by certain regulations to meet standards that are acceptable to different sects of Islam. For example, ornate tombstones and built tombs are forbidden. A tombstone should not exceed one third of an arm’s length, or approximately 30 centimetres. It should also be no higher than that. The stone usually bears the name of the deceased and the date they died however further writing is discouraged.

“We may add the word “martyr” on the condition that it is followed by the words “God willing”,” said Sheikh Abu Amara al-Shami, a Salafi imam at one of Kfar Nabel’s mosques.

Kfar Nabel has a population of about 30,000 and has been outside government control since August 2012. When the city was under government control its council was responsible for the upkeep of the graveyards, ensuring they were well lit and maintaining the paths. But since the start of the conflict there has been no one to maintain them so local residents do what they can.

According to al-Issa, there are four graveyards in Kfar Nabel. Since the regime forces entered the city on July 4, 2011 the number of graves has increased, particularly in the southern graveyard which has come to be known as the “martyr’s graveyard.”

“There are no security checkpoints on the way, so families have taken to burying their dead there,” explained al-Issa. “Visitors have also increased since the city was first targeted.”

An air raid on the city on September 27, 2012 killed 19-year-old university student Khitam al-Bayoush. Since then, her father has been visiting his daughter’s grave every morning.

“I meet with many others like me in the graveyard,” Mohammad al-Bayoush said. “We are all the victims of one criminal who robbed us of what is dearest to us. There is one positive thing about the graveyards: they have transformed into meeting places for the families of martyrs who have been killed since the regime forces came and left more than two-and-a-half years ago.”

“Many of our conversations revolve around discussing the pilots who carry out the air raids, what the regime gains from killing innocent people and destroying homes, and why it doesn’t target fighters,” he added. “We also talk about the people we lost, who they were, what they used to do.”

Ahmad was killed by the Syrian Army as he was hiding in an orchard.

“They killed him in cold blood,” said his 51-year-old mother, who now looks after the children Ahmad left behind.

“Since then I have been visiting his grave constantly. My duties towards his father and siblings prevent me from going there daily, so I visit every Friday. His children live with me now, and it helps ease the pain of our separation.”

Dr Sami al-Bayoush, 54, only used to go to the graveyard to attend burials, and when he had to, for example to mark religious festivals like Eid Al-Fitr and Eid A-Adha. But since he buried his son he visits frequently.

“My son Mohammad, 22, was arrested for no reason from the university where he studies medicine and was tortured to death along with two of his friends nine months later,” he said. “I now visit his grave daily with his mother before each of us heads to work. He was our bright light, extinguished by the brutality of the regime. The graveyard is now a space for us to be at ease and cry freely without shame.”