Kurds fear resurgence of Islamic State group in Syria

As a new Syria struggles to emerge, old threats are resurfacing.

The turmoil since the overthrow of Bashar al-Assad is “paving the way” for the so-called Islamic State (IS) to return, according to a senior Kurdish leader who helped defeat the jihadist group in Syria in 2019. He says. the return has already begun.

“To do with Daesh [IS] has increased significantly, and the risk of resurgence has doubled’, according to General Mazloum Abdi, commander of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), mainly the Kurdish militia supported by the US. “They now have more power and more opportunities.”

He said IS militants have seized weapons and ammunition left behind by the Syrian army, according to intelligence reports.

And he warns that there is a “real risk” that militants will try to infiltrate SDF-run prisons here in northeastern Syria, which hold around 10,000 of their men. The SDF is also keeping around 50,000 of their relatives in camps.

Our interview with the general was late at night, at a location we cannot disclose.

He welcomed the fall of the Assad regime – which imprisoned him four times. But he looked tired and admitted to being frustrated at the prospect of re-fighting the old battles.

“We fought them [IS] and sacrifice 12,000 lives,” he said, referring to the SDF’s losses. “I think at some point we will have to go back to where we were before.”

The risk of an IS resurgence is increasing, he says, because the SDF faces increasing threats from neighboring Turkey – and the rebel groups it supports – and has to divert its fighters. They tell us that the SDF has had to suspend operations against terrorists against IS, and hundreds of prison guards – from the army – have returned home to protect their villages.

Ankara sees the SDF as an extension of the PKK – outlawed Kurdish separatists who have been waging a terrorist campaign for years, and are considered terrorists by the US and the EU. It has long sought a 30km “buffer zone” in the Kurdish region of northeastern Syria. Since the fall of Assad, he has been pushing hard to take over.

“The biggest threat now is Turkey because its airstrikes are killing our soldiers,” said General Abdi. “These attacks must be stopped, because they are preventing us from looking at the security of the detention center,” he said, “although we will do everything we can.”

Inside Al-Sina, the largest prison for IS prisoners, we saw the layers of security and heard tension among the staff.

The former educational institution in the city of Al-Hasakah has about 5,000 men – suspected of being fighters or supporters of IS.

Each cell door is bolted and secured with three bolts. The corridors are divided into sections by heavy metal gates. The guards are covered, with staffs in hand. Finding opportunities here is rare.

We were allowed to see inside two rooms but we could not talk to the men who were inside. They were told that we were journalists and were given the opportunity to hide their faces. Few did. Many sat quietly on blankets and thin mattresses. Two men were walking down the street.

Kurdish security sources say that many of the prisoners in Al-Sina were with IS to the point where they stood up and were deeply committed to its ideology.

We were taken to meet the 28-year-old prisoner – thin and soft-spoken – who did not want to be named. He also said that he speaks freely, although he does not say much about important matters.

He told us that he left his native Australia when he was 19, to visit his grandparents in Cyprus.

He said: “From there, one thing led me to another, and I went to Aleppo.” He said he was working with an NGO in Raqqa city when IS took control.

I asked if he had blood on his hands, and did he kill anyone? “No, I didn’t,” he answered vaguely.

And did he support what IS was doing? “I don’t want to answer that question because it could have an impact on my case,” he replied.

He hopes to return to Australia one day, although he does not know if he will be accepted.

There is hope behind the barbed wire of the Roj camp – about three hours’ drive – that freedom is coming. In other words.

The tented area – surrounded by walls, fences and watchtowers – is home to around 3,000 women and children. They have not been tried or prosecuted but the families of IS fighters and supporters.

There are several British women in the camp. We met three of them, briefly. Both said they were told by their lawyers not to talk.

In a wind-blown corner we found a woman willing to talk – Saida Temirbulatova, 47, a former tax inspector in Dagestan. His nine-year-old son, Ali, stood beside him in silence. They hope that the defeat of Assad will mean freedom for both.

“The new leader Ahmed al-Sharaa [the head of the Islamist group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham] he spoke, saying he would give everyone their rights. We also want freedom. We want to leave, especially from Russia. It is the only world that can take us.

The camp manager tells us that some believe that IS will come to their rescue and take them out. He asked us not to use his name because he fears for his safety.

“Since the fall of Assad, the camp is calm. Usually, when it is quiet, it means that the women are organizing themselves,” he said. “They are packing their bags ready to go. They are saying: ‘We will leave this camp soon and reform ourselves. We will come back as IS.’

It is said that there is a visible change even in the children who sing profanity and swear at passers-by. They say: ‘We will come back to get you [IS] it’s coming soon.’

During the time we were in the prison, many children raised the index finger of their right hand. This is used by all Muslims in daily prayers, and is also widely used by IS terrorists in propaganda images.

The women of the Roj camp are not the only ones carrying their bags.

Some Kurdish people in the city of Al-Hasakah are doing the same thing – they fear that the jihadis will return with another Turkish state in the north-east of Syria.

Jewan, 24, who teaches English, plans to go – reluctantly.

“I’ve packed my bag, I’m preparing my passport and my important documents,” he tells me. “I don’t want to leave my home and my memories, but we all live in constant fear. The Turks are threatening us, and the doors are open to IS. They can attack their prisons. They can do whatever they want.”

Jewan was already displaced from the northwestern city of Aleppo, at the beginning of the Syrian civil war in 2011. He is wondering where he will go, this time.

“This situation calls for urgent action by countries to protect civilians,” he says. I ask if he thinks it will come. “No,” he answers calmly. But he asks me to tell him his request.

Additional reporting by Michael Steininger and Matthew Goddard