Syrian Citizenship Disappeared
in the first place, and it was complicated to even obtain my transcripts
to show it to potential employers.
When the Syrian conflict began, I
was in my fourth year at university.
I had to interrupt my studies because
highways were cut off and as a maktum, I was unable to get on a plane.”
Mohammed Kheir Ayed Ismael was born in 1972
in Tell Hamis town, in Qamishli. He is married
with four children. He attempted to resolve his
legal status in several occasions and acquired
the citizenship in 2011. As a stateless, he faced
obstacles. In particular, he was forbidden to join
the Institute for Railway Studies despite being a
superior student. He narrated to STJ:79
“I tried to enrol in all institutes but
they refused, so I started to work as
freelancer. Then I got married and
witnessed many of my friends becoming civil servants despite not being as hardworking as I am. The same
happened with my children. Because
I am ajnabi and their mother is a citizen, they are maktumeen. When we
registered our children in schools,
they always repeatedly asked about
the IDs. I kept telling them the old
story of my father and the reason for
not having one. My eldest son did not
complete his education, arguing his
fate would be doomed like mine.”
Shivan Hussein Amin, a witness who was born in
Qamishli in 1981, was a maktum but in 2005 he
submitted his papers to the Personal Status Department and became ajnabi. Following Decree
No. 49, he acquired the Syrian nationality and
started enjoying his rights like any other citizen.
However, he did not complete his study, which
left a negative impact on him:
“In 2005, we became ajanib, so we
requested and obtained the Family
Civil Registry Record and the red card
from the Personal Status Department
located in al-Hasakah. But not much
79 STJ’s field researcher conduced a direct interview
with him in March 2018.
changed regarding the education
and degrees: the majority of maktumeen and ajanib underwent special
procedures at institutes and universities but I heard that some managed
to obtain diplomas via mediators and
bribes.”80
Abdurrahman Ibrahim Ali was born in Qamishli
in 1978 and is married with two children. He is
a maktum and his legal status has yet to be resolved. He was not allowed to study the branch
he liked, and still has not come to terms with his
situation:
“I travelled once to Damascus and
stood in front of the Higher Institute
for Dramatic Arts. There, I cried unintentionally. I was saddened whenever I would pass by Damascus university, seeing students on the campus.
You only live once, right? I do not
want my children to be deprived of
their rights like I have been.”81
A.M was born in Qamishli in 1981 and is ajnabiyah. She narrated to STJ the obstacles she faced
especially in the field of education until she became a citizen in application of Decree No. 49 in
2011:
“My grandfather told me that when
they conducted the special census,
they took the IDs of the family under
the pretext of issuing new ones, and
then they told the family that the IDs
were lost. As a consequence, my father became stateless. My mother
was a citizen. I endured a lot of pain,
especially regarding education, because in every stage they requested
an Individual Civil Registry Record,
which in turn required an approval
from the Political Security Branch,
who were always hampering the
process. It was quite hard. One day I
went to request the Civil Registry Record in order to travel to Damascus. I
80 STJ’s field researcher conducted a direct interview
with him in July 2018.
81 STJ’s field researcher conducted a direct interview
with him in March 2018.
27