Why the rebel capture of Syria's Hama, a city with a dark history, matters

News

Why the rebel capture of Syria's Hama, a city with a dark history, matters

2024-12-06 10:32 Last Updated At：10:40

BEIRUT (AP) — It was one of the darkest moments in the modern history of the Arab world. More than four decades ago, Hafez Assad, then president of Syria, launched what came to be known as the Hama Massacre.

Between 10,000 to 40,000 people were killed or disappeared in the government attack on the central Syrian city. It began on Feb. 2, 1982, and lasted for nearly a month, leaving the city in ruins.

The memory of the government assault and the monthlong siege on the city, which at the time was a stronghold of Syria’s Muslim Brotherhood, remains visceral in Syrian and Arab minds.

Now Islamist insurgents have captured the city, tearing down a poster of Hafez Assad’s son, President Bashar Assad, and swarming security and government offices — scenes unimaginable 40 years ago.

The moment carried great symbolism in Syria’s long-running civil war, which began 13 years ago but many say is rooted in Hama.

Hama, Syria’s fourth-largest city, is known for its quaint waterwheels, a landmark attraction along the banks of the Orontes River.

In the early 1980s, the city's name became synonymous with killings.

It was the scene of Muslim Brotherhood-led anti-government attacks that targeted military officers, state institutions and ruling party offices. In February 1982, Hafez Assad ordered an assault on the city to quell the unrest.

In a matter of days, government warplanes destroyed most of the city, opening the way for ground troops.

Hafez Assad’s brother, Rifaat, led the artillery unit that shelled the city and killed thousands, earning him the nickname the “Butcher of Hama.”

Only this year, Rifaat Assad was indicted in Switzerland for war crimes and crimes against humanity in connection with Hama. An international arrest warrant was issued for him three years earlier.

The massacre created resentment that fanned the flames of another uprising against his son years later.

In 2011, Hama and surrounding towns became the epicenter of some of the biggest protests against Bashar Assad, which started in 2011 during a wave of Arab uprisings.

The protests forced government security forces to withdraw from the city briefly in June 2012, leaving the opposition in control and fueling a brief sense of liberation, in a place that had once been pounded by Syrian warplanes.

Residents at that time painted walls around the city in red, threw red paint on the waterwheels to symbolize the Hama massacre and tried to organize local administration. About 800,000 people lived there at the start of the uprising.

“Erhal ya Bashar," a protest chant that means “Come on, leave, Bashar” was popularized in the Hama protests.

But government forces returned in August of that year, with a brutal assault that caused mass casualties in the first 24 hours. The leader of the chants was later killed, his throat slit by government forces.

Aron Lund, a longtime Syria expert at Century International, a New York-based think tank, said Hama has obvious symbolic value because of the history of the massacre. He described it as a “huge event in Syrian history and really formative for the opposition and the Islamist opposition in particular."

The brutal crackdown is commerated each year.

It was also formative for government forces, because many of the current military leaders were young at the time, Lund said.

“When 2011 rolled around, they all realized that, you know, we all remember, you all remember Hama. So there’s no there’s no compromising here,” he said.

In a video message Thursday, Abu Mohammed al-Golani, the de facto leader of the Syrian insurgency, announced that fighters had reached Hama “to clean the wound that has bled for 40 years.” One of the opposition fighters' first moves was to free prisoners from the city's central prison.

Hama is a major intersection in Syria that links the country’s center with the north as well as the east and the coast.

It is about 200 kilometers (125 miles) north of the capital, Damascus, Assad’s seat of power. Hama province also borders the coastal province of Latakia, a main base of popular support for Assad.

The region is predominantly Sunni Muslim but also has a minority from the Alawite sect, an offshoot of Shiite Islam, to which Assad’s family belongs.

Hama’s fall would have been a massive development in its own right, Lund said. But coming after the fall of Syria’s largest city, Aleppo last week, which gave government forces the time to prepare their defense lines, it “will absolutely encourage Assad’s enemies and discourage his supporters.”

Next stop for the insurgents is the central province of Homs, which analysts say would be a game-changer if it falls into rebel hands. Insurgent groups have already said they are advancing toward Homs.

Homs, about 40 kilometers (25 miles) south of Hama, is where one of Syria's two state-run oil refineries is located and is also gateway to Damascus. It connects the capital to the coast, where Assad has his base and his village of origin, and home to a Russian naval base.

“Should the rebels be able to seize Homs, which they now have a shot at doing after seizing Hama, then they could theoretically have grabbed" three of Syria's largest cities and severed the capital from the coast, said Lund.

Daytona after Dark: The good times never stop, even when the NASCAR racing does

2025-02-16 00:44 Last Updated At：01:00

DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. (AP) — The real peril of dumping your body in the belly of a “redneck wheelchair” for a wheelbarrow race comes when you fail to grip both sides of the vehicle. Leave one hand dangling, as one Daytona 500 fan foolishly did last year, and the tip of a finger may get sliced off and lost in the infield muck.

The afterparty morphed into a search party for the missing digit, iPhone lights on, people on knees scouring the ground in what proved to be a futile hunt. The finger never got restitched, though the fan did make a triumphant return to racing, only next time with gloves.

“The more they drink,” wheelbarrow race founder Cush Revette said, “the stupider they get.”

When the sun goes down at Daytona International Speedway, the green flag drops on the infield bash that annually celebrates the over-the-top campy nature of race week.

Wheel out the wheelbarrows. Bust out the karaoke machines and crank the volume to 11. Belly up to the homemade bars built with enough lumber to thin out a Home Depot.

At Daytona after dark, the good times never stop, even when the racing does at a track where, in both speed and celebrations, there are no limits.

The later it gets, the crazier it gets, and revelers compete in the booze-fueled races at their own risk. Though, the organizer noted, paramedics are stationed nearby.

“No liability whatsoever,” Revette said, laughing. “Just a whole lot of fun after the race.”

Line ’em up!

The No. 9 wheelbarrow rests next to one with the General Lee paint scheme, which is next to one nicknamed “Ross Crashtain” and on they go, the fastest cart on one wheel, where competitors sprint and stumble around a makeshift path to the finish — just keep an eye on the checkered flag stuck in the orange cone.

“Just rednecks coming through,” Revette said. “Couldn’t pass a sobriety test in the a.m., much less at night.”

Take a bleary-eyed look around, and the biggest party on a Daytona property so massive it houses its own lake is surely raging somewhere.

In the midst of a row of flashy RVs where flags for Earnhardt and Elliott fly, the baddest bar inside the speedway emerges. Named in honor of its designated spot and color destination, the joint dubbed Red 38 operates like your local neighborhood pub has been picked up and plopped inside the track.

Shots are freely passed around to Daytona regulars — keep an eye out for the Toxic Twins — and passersby. Bottles of booze line the shelves behind the bar and beer flows like at any other watering hole. The louder the music, the better chance some of the men will strip off their shirts and dance the night away. Two-time Daytona 500 champion Michael Waltrip and scores of NASCAR drivers have popped in for a nightcap and more over the last 17 years.

Cocktail attire required? Please. Try American flag overalls if you want to grab a seat at the bar and catch a game on the big screen.

“Seriously, where else can I go and I get to participate in some beverages, we can play music pretty much as loud as we want, we can smoke cigars, we can tell bad jokes for 10 straight days,” Red 38 founder Bill Fenton said.

Only at Daytona is tailgating as much of a sport as anything happening on the track.

Strong of heart, strong of foot, stronger of liver.

Step inside Red 38 and the roar of the stock cars is about the only sign its location is a racetrack. A banner displays the Speedweeks specials: red beans, rice and gumbo were served at the Super Bowl party, bartender Carmine mixed up old fashioneds at a Bourbon & Cigars night, and put on your neon and “whatever glows” for Saturday’s blacklight party.

Red 38 has last call around midnight (or two hours after track activity ends), but the carousing never really slows down.

“If you’ve got enough gas left in you, you can go two hours after that,” Fenton said. “You usually don’t.”

Hitch a ride on a tricked-out golf cart with under-glow lighting and rap music pulsating, zip past the neon palm trees and the scores of fans playing cornhole and stop when you hear JR Richards belt out “Friends in Low Places.”

Richards, of Mound, Minnesota, and his camping setup double as the hot spot for karaoke night, and everyone is invited. He made friends with other campers, and they have teamed up for years to provide the best in pre-recorded music. No guarantees on the quality of singers.

Last year, on a rainy night, more than 70 campers crammed under the tent for a rousing rendition of John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads.”

“It was probably the best experience I’ve ever been part of,” Richards said. “It’s more of a culture. Everyone’s looking out for each other. It’s a family environment. We’ve known people for 12 years here. We love to see them every time we come. We hang out with them pretty much all day and all night. It’s what we love to do.”

Plus, to the best of Richards’ knowledge, no camper has ever been injured belting out Garth Brooks. He can’t say the same about the time he went around the bend to watch wheelbarrow racing.

“I got ran over by the wheelbarrow a couple of years ago,” he said. “They kind of ran over my ankle.”

Climb up one ladder, then one more, over a few cardboard cutouts of NASCAR drivers and beer girls, and the 15-foot-high observation deck offers nearly a 360-degree view of the track — and comes with wafting whiffs of the Boston butt smoking on the grill.

Jay Colburn, of Greensboro, North Carolina, and seven childhood friends — Colburn reunited the group following a near-death experience and has spent thousands to make this happen — have camped at Daytona for eight years. They add to the spot annually, with the latest upgrade being a car hauler that Colburn converted into a five-bedroom suite with air conditioning; they grew tired of doubling up in a four-bed camper.

Colburn’s favorite memory? A NASCAR driver he declined to name that wrecked his golf cart by a nearby bar.

“He had about eight people hanging off his cart and he drove into somebody down there,” Colburn said. “And he got cussed out by a girl. They had to get him out of there. Just people being people.”

Let the guessing game begin.

Colburn believes there’s at least one infield rookie who would enjoy himself at his camping space: He’s counting on President Donald Trump returning to the Daytona 500 for the second time in five years. He gleefully recalled Trump’s pace lap in the armored presidential limo called “The Beast” in 2020.

There’s a chance a passenger car leaving the track might get shouted down by a kid and challenged to race a remote-control car. The beers, try four bucks for a 25-ounce can! Good luck scoring that deal at an NFL stadium or NBA arena. The flags, they promise it’s a “Bad Day To Be A Beer.” Dozens and dozens of crushed cans near each tent prove that slogan true.

Eventually it’s time to park the wheelbarrows, mute the microphones and chug that last beer.

No need to set an alarm for when the sun rises. The U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds will soon boom overhead to wake up everybody — and start the clock ticking toward the next party.

AP auto racing: https://apnews.com/hub/auto-racing