This article, written by GSF’s Syria Sabreen Shalabi, was originally published by Syria TV.
My husband blamed me for being detained and he left; now I have to take care of the kids.
— survivor of detention from rural Damascus
For decades under the Assad regime, political detention was a nightmare experienced by hundreds of thousands of Syrians held without due process. This reality worsened after the outbreak of civil war triggered by the Syrian revolution in 2011. According to the Syrian Network for Human Rights (SNHR), at least 157,000 people were detained between March 2011 and June 2024, including 10,200 women and 5,200 children. The network documented more than 11,500 cases of sexual violence against women and girls during this time.
All survivors suffered and witnessed horrific atrocities in detention and emerged with severe injuries and trauma. The devastation of war also left many without homes to return to. For women, however, this is compounded by the discrimination they face because of their gender.
Another form of detention
After the fall of the regime in December 2024, women who emerged from detention did not find complete freedom. Instead, their suffering followed them into their homes, marriages, workplaces and communities, where they were blamed, judged, and ostracised for what they experienced.
Some returned only to find that their husbands had divorced them during their absence, or were abandoned upon their return. Others were told, directly or indirectly, that they had brought shame upon their families. As a result, new layers of pain were added to the health problems, psychological trauma and financial losses they face as a result of their detention, not mentioning the years stolen from their lives.
As part of our work in Syria with the Association of the Detained and Missing in Sednaya Prison (ADMSP), GSF has held consultations with survivors across Syria on various topics: including their wishes for reparation, how such measures should be funded, and their opinions on a victim’s registry. In these conversations, women shared how discrimination has impacted their lives post-release.
In some cases, women have been forced into hiding after facing threats to their lives in the name of ‘honour.’ In Latakia, others told us they had considered suicide because of discrimination from the community, which includes judgement from their own families. In cases where they have children born of rape, they are also left alone to navigate the many bureaucratic barriers imposed on these children, including how to prove their lineage. In Hama, a group of male survivors said women should be prioritised for reparation, “because they face harder conditions after release.”
In Douma, one woman said she was ‘immediately fired’ after it was revealed that she had been detained. In Latakia, another survivor said her husband abandoned her and her five children – a common experience shared by many women, while in Hama, a survivor said the first question women are asked is if they were raped.
My family wishes I would never leave the house because of the stigma that follows me.
— a survivor of detention in Latakia
Recognition
The stories of these women and girls are vital to understand the scale of human rights violations in Syria – it cannot be told through the suffering of men alone. In addition to a need for urgent material support, societal perceptions also need to shift to recognise the bravery and sacrifices of these women and allow them to exist without fear of further violence.
We are not only victims of political detention; we are also victims of society.
— a woman survivor from Homs
Giving women the space to speak – and showing that their voices and opinions are valued, as in these consultations – can also go some way towards changing this. From our work elsewhere, we also know that our interim reparative measures projects can and do have a concrete and positive impact on the lives of women survivors: in Iraq, 87 per cent of participants said the project had improved their family lives. We know this is also possible in the Syrian context, having recently finished a three-year project with survivors of detention now living in southern Türkiye.
Responsibility does not rest with families alone. It extends to policymakers, local communities, religious leaders, civil society and survivor-led organisations, media institutions, and everyone who believes in the right of survivors to live with dignity and hope for a better future.
If Syria is to rebuild itself on genuine foundations of justice and dignity, women survivors must not be left on the margins.
Our project in Syria is possible thanks to funding from the Deutsche Gesellschaft für Internationale Zusammenarbeit (GIZ).