The front line between the army and the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) in Hasakah is marked by snow-covered piles of earth, dividing two worlds that risk splitting irrevocably. With each passing hour, the prospect of a return to fierce fighting draws closer.
On one side are Arab-majority areas of Syria recently seized by Damascus in a rapid eastward push. On the other is what remains of the once-powerful SDF-controlled territory: a shrunken pocket with a sizeable Kurdish population.
Gunfire burst through the freezing air as Syrian soldiers on the ground tried to bring down SDF drones soaring overhead. “They could strike at any moment,” a member of the security forces warned.
Despite a four-day ceasefire agreed on Tuesday, which has bought a narrow window for talks on how the SDF could be integrated into the central government, the situation remains volatile, with Damascus and the SDF accusing each other of violating the fragile truce before its expiration.
The National visited the front line hours before the ceasefire was set to expire. With a diplomatic solution still out of sight, civilians on both sides are preparing for what they fear most: a full-scale conflict that could bring more death and destruction, just as Syria is beginning to turn the page on 14 years of brutal civil war.
“We hope there won’t be a war, because there are children and women on both sides who will suffer," said Mohamed Iss, a 30-year-old Arab resident from a village near the front line. "Civilians have nothing to do with this. There will be chaos, and they will be the ones paying the price,”
“And with this cold as well, the suffering will be even worse,” he added, holding his hands over the dancing flames of a makeshift fire pit. Temperatures, he said, have been exceptionally low this winter.
Across the border, a Kurdish resident of Qamishli, who asked to remain anonymous for security reasons, told The National he “doesn’t want any more war”.
“People want a ceasefire. Morale is very low. But when negotiations restarted, people started to feel hopeful again,” he said. A flurry of diplomatic efforts has taken place over the last few days to avert the collapse of the ceasefire.
Army offensive
After months of stalled negotiations with SDF commander Mazloum Abdi, who had resisted integration into the central government, the Syrian government launched a rapid offensive last week against SDF-held territory.
The Kurdish-led force had gained control of large areas of north-eastern Syria during the civil war, running them as a semi-autonomous region after driving ISIS out with the support of an international coalition.
The push into these Arab-majority areas was met with only limited SDF resistance due to the group's unpopularity among Arab locals, who welcomed the troops as heroes and were quick to tear down symbols of their previous rulers.
If diplomacy fails, Syrian government forces are expected to push into two SDF-controlled cities: Kurdish-majority Kobani, and Hasakah. With sizeable Kurdish populations in these areas, fighting is expected to be fierce along the front lines.
'People want peace'
With its freezing winds and snowy landscape, Syria’s front line would bear a deceptive resemblance to Ukraine if it were not for the keffiyehs and traditional farwas – a thick wool coat – worn by the soldiers.
About 8km from Hasakah city, on the Syrian government-controlled side, security forces said they were ready for any scenario. “We’re ready to move forward,” one member told The National, adding that about 4,000 personnel had been deployed in the area. He said they had already seized two SDF military positions, Fawj and Sinaa, after deadly clashes with the militia.
Burnt-out SDF armoured vehicles lined the road. Inside them, children could be seen playing and posing for pictures. Along the road from Deir Ezzor to Hasakah, reinforcements were being sent, including tanks.
On the other side, videos of SDF fighters preparing for battle have also been widely shared. “We’re ready to fight you,” one female soldier said in a video filmed in Hasakah, echoing the rhetoric of troops posted just a few kilometres away.
The bellicose atmosphere has sparked fears among civilians. “People have started going to the markets and stocking up in case we are besieged. We have no power at all because it used to come from the dam, and now it’s under government control, so we rely on solar panels. We also have generators for the whole neighbourhood, which helps,” a Qamishli resident said.
“The point is that people just want peace. They want to preserve their community and Kurdish existence.” He said he would consider leaving if government forces take Hasakah.
Social media videos, fake news and inflammatory rhetoric from both sides have exacerbated fear and distrust, with the SDF–government stand-off perniciously morphing into an Arab-Kurd divide, pitching “their” values against “ours”.
Salim Hader, a friend of Mahmoud, rejects that narrative. “We want to live together. We have nothing against the Kurds. It’s not even the SDF that is the problem. The issue is the presence of an armed foreign group,” he said, referring to the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), which is accused by Damascus of jeopardising the negotiations.
“We’ve lived through 14 years of civil war. We’ve had enough,” he added.
