A burly bearded man in a blue tunic moved swiftly through grassy stubble on a windswept road in rural Damascus, collecting bones with his bare hands. He added a jaw to the pile, before gently picking up a skull. Briefly, he kissed it - a moment of tenderness for one of the many victims of Bashar al-Assad. Ten months after Assad was ousted from power last December, in a lightning rebel advance, mass graves are still being uncovered.
The Syrian dictator's legacy is embedded in the soil here - skeletal remains where crops should be. There are now more than 60 grave sites and counting. One of the latest came to light in al-Otaiba village, in the district of Eastern Ghouta, where a shepherd stumbled on clothing and human remains after straw was burnt off. The authorities believe as many as 175 bodies were bulldozed into a mass grave in this former opposition stronghold. They are among the legions of the missing.
More than 181,000 people were forcibly disappeared or arbitrarily detained during the 14 years of Syria's civil war, according to the Syrian Network for Human Rights monitoring group. It says 90% were taken by the Assad regime.
The families of the missing are now demanding answers and justice, from the new Syria – which held its first parliamentary election, of a sort, earlier this month. A 'people's assembly' was chosen but not directly by the people. One-third of the seats remain to be filled. The appointees will be hand-picked by Syria's Interim leader Ahmed al-Sharaa. Depending on your viewpoint in this broken country, and perhaps on your religion or your sect, the election was either a sham or a first step on the road to democracy.
As Syria faces forward, President Sharaa - a jihadi fighter turned head of state - says the missing will remain 'a national priority'. Bereaved relatives like Kasim Hamami are counting on that. They can do little else. Kasim, digging by the roadside at the mass grave site, pulled secrets from the soil. He uncovered a frayed, brownish jumper covered in dirt. It was a last trace of Samer, his brother, who disappeared aged 21.
Families tell harrowing tales of how their loved ones were taken, many under frightening circumstances. A father's anguish, a mother's plea; all are united in their fight for truth and justice. As the homes of many contain echoes of despair, community-led forums like 'Truth Tents' have emerged, where families gather to share their stories and bolster each other's resolve in their search for answers. The initiative offers a glimmer of hope, but families are met with the ongoing challenge of an uncertain future and the lack of resources for accountability.
As the new regime takes shape, the question remains: Will true justice ever be served for the victims and their families?
The Syrian dictator's legacy is embedded in the soil here - skeletal remains where crops should be. There are now more than 60 grave sites and counting. One of the latest came to light in al-Otaiba village, in the district of Eastern Ghouta, where a shepherd stumbled on clothing and human remains after straw was burnt off. The authorities believe as many as 175 bodies were bulldozed into a mass grave in this former opposition stronghold. They are among the legions of the missing.
More than 181,000 people were forcibly disappeared or arbitrarily detained during the 14 years of Syria's civil war, according to the Syrian Network for Human Rights monitoring group. It says 90% were taken by the Assad regime.
The families of the missing are now demanding answers and justice, from the new Syria – which held its first parliamentary election, of a sort, earlier this month. A 'people's assembly' was chosen but not directly by the people. One-third of the seats remain to be filled. The appointees will be hand-picked by Syria's Interim leader Ahmed al-Sharaa. Depending on your viewpoint in this broken country, and perhaps on your religion or your sect, the election was either a sham or a first step on the road to democracy.
As Syria faces forward, President Sharaa - a jihadi fighter turned head of state - says the missing will remain 'a national priority'. Bereaved relatives like Kasim Hamami are counting on that. They can do little else. Kasim, digging by the roadside at the mass grave site, pulled secrets from the soil. He uncovered a frayed, brownish jumper covered in dirt. It was a last trace of Samer, his brother, who disappeared aged 21.
Families tell harrowing tales of how their loved ones were taken, many under frightening circumstances. A father's anguish, a mother's plea; all are united in their fight for truth and justice. As the homes of many contain echoes of despair, community-led forums like 'Truth Tents' have emerged, where families gather to share their stories and bolster each other's resolve in their search for answers. The initiative offers a glimmer of hope, but families are met with the ongoing challenge of an uncertain future and the lack of resources for accountability.
As the new regime takes shape, the question remains: Will true justice ever be served for the victims and their families?
