Μούγκα εδώ οι αμοιβόμενοι από το βρώμικο χρήμα του δουλεμπορίου “δημοσιογράφοι” που μιλούσαν για “θηριωδίες του Άσαντ”...
Robert Fisk: Inside Daraya – how a failed prisoner swap turned into a massacre
Exclusive: The first Western journalist to enter the town
that felt Assad’s fury hears witness accounts of Syria’s bloodiest
episode
The massacre town of Daraya is a place of ghosts and questions. It echoed with the roar of mortar explosions and the crackle of…
gunfire yesterday, its few returning citizens
talking of death, assault, foreign “terrorists”, and its cemetery of
slaughter haunted by snipers.
The men and women to whom we could talk, two of whom had lost loved
ones on Daraya’s day of infamy four days ago, told a story different
from the version that has been repeated around the world: theirs was a
tale of hostage-taking by the Free Syria Army and desperate
prisoner-exchange negotiations between the armed opponents of the regime
and the Syrian army, before President Bashar al-Assad’s government
forces stormed into the town to seize it back from rebel control.
Officially, no word of such talks between the enemies has been mentioned. But senior Syrian officers told The Independent how they had “exhausted all possibilities of reconciliation”
with those holding the town, while residents of Daraya said there had
been an attempt by both sides to arrange a swap of civilians and
off-duty soldiers – apparently kidnapped by rebels because of their
family ties to the government army – with prisoners in the army’s
custody. When these talks broke down, the army advanced into Daraya, six
miles from the centre of Damascus.
Being the first Western eyewitness into the town yesterday was as
frustrating as it was dangerous. The bodies of men, women and children
had been moved from the cemetery where many of them were found; and when
we arrived in the company of Syrian troops at the Sunni Muslim
graveyard – divided by the main road through Daraya – snipers opened
fire at the soldiers, hitting the back of the ancient armoured vehicle
in which we made our escape. Yet we could talk to civilians out of
earshot of Syrian officials – in two cases in the security of their own
homes – and their narrative of last Saturday’s mass killing of at least
245 men, women and children suggested that the atrocities were far more
widespread than supposed.
One woman, who gave her name as Leena, said she was travelling
through the town in a car and saw at least 10 male bodies lying on the
road near her home. “We carried on driving past, we did not dare to
stop, we just saw these bodies in the street,” she said, adding that
Syrian troops had not yet entered Daraya.
Another man said that, although he had not seen the dead in the
graveyard, he believed that most were related to the government army and
included several off-duty conscripts. “One of the dead was a postman –
they included him because he was a government worker,” the man said. If
these stories are true, then the armed men – wearing hoods, according to
another woman who described how they broke into her home and how she
kissed them in a fearful attempt to prevent them shooting her own family
– were armed insurgents rather than Syrian troops.
The home of Amer Sheikh Rajab, a forklift truck driver, had been
taken over, he said, by gunmen as a base for “Free Army” forces, the
phrase the civilians used for the rebels. They had smashed the family
crockery and burned carpets and beds – the family showed this
destruction to us – but had also torn out the internal computer chip
parts of laptops and television sets in the house. To use as working
parts for bombs, perhaps?
On a road on the edge of Daraya, Khaled Yahya Zukari, a lorry
driver, had been leaving the town on Saturday in a mini-bus with his
34-year-old wife Musreen and their seven-month-old daughter.
“We were on our way to [the neighbouring suburb of] Senaya when
suddenly there was a lot of shooting at us,” he said. “I told my wife to
lie on the floor but a bullet came into the bus and passed right
through our baby and hit my wife. It was the same bullet. They were both
dead. The shooting came from trees, from a green area. Maybe it was the
militants hiding behind the soil and trees who thought we were a
military bus bringing soldiers.”
Any widespread investigation of a tragedy on this scale and in
these circumstances was virtually impossible yesterday. At times, in the
company of armed Syrian forces, we had to run along empty streets with
anti-government snipers at the intersections; many families had
barricaded themselves in their homes.
Even before we set out for Daraya from the large military airbase
in Damascus – which contains both Russian-made Hind attack-helicopters
and T-72 tanks – a mortar round, possibly fired from Daraya itself,
smashed into the runway scarcely 300 metres from us, sending a column of
black smoke towering into the sky. Although Syrian troops nonchalantly
continued to take their open-air showers, I began to feel some sympathy
for the UN ceasefire monitors who departed Syria last week.
Perhaps the saddest account of all yesterday came from 27-year-old
Hamdi Khreitem, who sat in his family home with his brother and sister,
and told us of how his parents, Selim and Aisha, had set out to buy
bread on Saturday. “We had already seen the pictures on the television
of the massacre – the Western channels said it was the Syrian army, the
state television said it was the “Free Army” – but we were short of food
and Mum and Dad drove into the town. Then we got a call from their
mobile and it was my Mum who just said: ‘We are dead.’ She was not.
“She was wounded in the chest and arm. My Dad was dead but I don’t
know where he was hit or who killed him. We took him from the hospital,
covered up and we buried him yesterday.”
Το είδαμε στο Sibilla
olympia.gr
Ισλαμοφασίστες ασφαλώς μέ τήν καθοδήγηση τών Mossad καί CIA . Οί δέ ...επαναστάτες κατά τού Προέδρου Assad είναι όλος ό ΥΠΟΚΟΣΜΟΣ τής γύρο περιοχής πού κουβάλησαν εκεί καί τούς παριστάνουν .
ΑπάντησηΔιαγραφήΥ.Γ. Τά ...στελέχη είναι μέ ΑΔΡΑ ΑΜΟΙΒΗ , τά τσιράκια τους έλπίζουν γιά γάλα καί πιλάφι στόν παράδεισσο.