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The Islamic State has suffered major reversals in eastern Syria with the liberation of Raqqa and Deir Ezzor. But this alone will not facilitate a large-scale return of refugees. Both governorates have lost their status as economic hubs, and rival actors are vying for control. Rising Kurdish-Arab tensions and potentially abusive security screening methods implemented by forces backed by the international coalition have all increased instability and unpredictability. This reduces the prospect of return.

Syria’s Future?

• The defeat of the Islamic State in Raqqa and Deir Ezzor governorates will not, alone, lead to a widespread return of refugees.
• Raqqa’s and Deir Ezzor’s economic links with neighboring governorates are unlikely to be reestablished in the foreseeable future.
• Because of the conflict, new local leaderships have been put in place by armed groups in a top-down way, making these leaders less representative, therefore less committed to a refugee return.
• The arbitrary vetting mechanisms for returning refugees by the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) are open to abuse, creating fears of revenge killings.
• Arab suspicions of Kurdish aims in eastern Syria have heightened communal tensions. This, added to a deep sense of uprooting among many refugees, undermines the social cohesion essential for return.

Recommendations/Findings

• Eastern Syria is vital in the Assad regime’s efforts to reconstitute the territory under its control. It is also crucial to the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces for securing political legitimacy in a postwar settlement. That is why the Islamic State’s defeat may be followed by a struggle between the two, blocking a refugee return.
• A Syrian political settlement and the refugee crisis should not be addressed separately. A settlement without a refugee return will hinder reconstruction by keeping away needed professionals and civil society actors. A return without a settlement will lead to local conflicts between traditional leaderships and emerging ones empowered during the war.
• To be successful, a refugee return should be embedded in a broader political settlement that aims at restoring Raqqa and Deir Ezzor to their traditional roles in Syria’s territorial order, and that engages professionals and civil society, reinforcing social cohesion.
• In areas taken by the SDF, a compromise could involve encouraging it to place local governance bodies it established under the Syrian state’s umbrella, while preventing the influence of regime security figures or cadres with a background in the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) over these bodies. This would help the governorates resume their role in Syria’s territorial order, encourage the return of technocrats, and maintain a balance between the regime and the PKK.

Introduction

In late 2017, as the self-proclaimed Islamic State lost the territory it once controlled in eastern Syria, the prospect that the region’s hundreds of thousands of refugees and internally displaced persons would soon return to their homes gained renewed attention. For those contemplating a return, however, the decision is far from straightforward. That is particularly true of those from Raqqa and Deir Ezzor, two of the most important cities in eastern Syria. Both have suffered heavy destruction since the start of the uprising in 2011, causing population displacements prior to the Islamic State’s arrival, during the group’s period in control, and following the cities’ liberation.

While it has devastated homes, livelihoods, public services, and state institutions, the war in Syria has also deprived cities of the economic and political functions they played prior to 2011. The conflict has drawn in a wide array of local and foreign actors and fragmented the country’s social structures. That is particularly true in areas that were under Islamic State control, where complex economic, social, military, and political dynamics emerged. In Raqqa, for instance, both before and after the rise of the Islamic State, the local population had almost entirely fled the city as a result of fighting.¹ Deir Ezzor, in turn, no longer fulfills its prewar role as a political and economic hub for eastern Syria, and today’s cross-section of antagonistic military and political forces makes lasting stability improbable. Kurdish-Arab tensions add another complicating factor to prospects for a durable settlement in Syria’s east.

In particular, the sense of insecurity prevailing in many areas liberated from the Islamic State may deter the return of a category of citizens upon which properly functioning local communities depend. This includes civil servants, engineers, doctors, teachers, and other professionals whose absence threatens such communities’ viability. The violence that affected Raqqa and Deir Ezzor Governorates has dissolved essential social units, such as families, tribes, and professional associations while also destroying urban landscapes and severing links between populations and their areas of origin. Meanwhile, newly empowered individuals or groups in the places refugees wish to return to will use their authority in negotiations with external actors to position themselves as power brokers in the new elite emerging from Syria’s conflict.

The defeat of the Islamic State will not be the trigger of return for those who have left; a more general resolution process for the entire country is required.

That is why a reconstruction process that is dissociated from a broader political settlement in Syria risks leaving these areas vulnerable to rivalries among local and regional actors. Such a situation would provide the military factions that led the campaign against the Islamic State with leverage that could complicate the stabilization of liberated territories, discouraging the return of refugees and internally displaced persons. In other words, the defeat of the Islamic State will not be the trigger of return for those who have left; a more general resolution process for the entire country is required. In Syria’s east, this can only succeed by engaging community leaders from the preconflict period and by returning cities such as Raqqa and Deir Ezzor to their former long-standing economic and geographical roles.

A Shattered Territorial Order

In both the cities and governorates of Raqqa and Deir Ezzor, the Syrian conflict has caused major transformations and fragmentation. Each region illustrates in its own way the many challenges involved in the return of refugees. The futures of both Raqqa and Deir Ezzor remain in limbo because those who have retaken territory from the Islamic State have, for now, no clear plan for what should come after. That is partly because the statuses of the governorates are themselves unclear, in light of the large number of opposing forces operating in both areas.

Raqqa: A Future in Isolation?

Prior to 2011, Raqqa had a population of roughly 220,000 people, with a sprawling and complex social structure. The politics of the city’s elites were intertwined with those of its rural environs, those of local tribes and their particular allegiances, and those of the centralized Baathist state, on which the region relied heavily.²

Before the uprising, the government in Damascus maintained relations with the rural hinterland largely through local institutions and individuals associated with the agricultural sector. This included farmers’ associations (jam‘iyaat al-fellaheen) and local state agricultural agencies, which almost entirely disappeared during the course of the war.³ Since the 1960s, the Baath Party sought to break feudal patterns of rule in the area by empowering hitherto marginal tribal figures and placing them in agricultural institutions. The regimes of former president Hafez al-Assad and later President Bashar al-Assad balanced this by placing other groups of tribal background—particularly those that had been stripped of power by the previous, more radical Baath leadership—in the security services, parliament, and other institutions of governance.⁴

The arrival of the Islamic State during spring 2013 drove many of the local urban elites—doctors, engineers, teachers, and state employees—and tribal leaders to flee Raqqa. The urban elites had exercised influence over domains such as education, politics, and commerce, and most of them settled in either Damascus (if they sided with the regime) or Urfa, Turkey, as well as across Europe (if they sympathized with the opposition).⁵ By 2014, the brutal rule of the Islamic State had isolated the communities that remained in Raqqa from the local elites that had left the city. As the international coalition fighting the Islamic State began its campaign in Raqqa, the group’s militants imposed strong security restrictions that further integrated the city into Islamic State–controlled areas in Syria and Iraq cut it off from those who had fled. This meant that prewar elites displaced to Urfa lost their status and influence, with no possibility of returning due to the ongoing conflict and security restrictions. Meanwhile, new social and political power structures began taking shape in Raqqa.⁶

Before the uprising, the government in Damascus maintained relations with the rural hinterland largely through local institutions and individuals associated with the agricultural sector.

The Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), backed by the United States and led primarily by Kurdish fighters, began its military offensive to retake Raqqa city and its outskirts in November 2016.⁷ While the SDF includes Arab groups, it is dominated by the People’s Protection Units (YPG), whose chain of command largely reports back to Kurdish commanders trained by the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK).⁸ Although the SDF has been successful in recapturing Raqqa, it is far from clear that it will be able to maintain order and engage in effective governance in the post–Islamic State phase. Thus far, the SDF’s experience in directly governing non-Kurdish populations has been largely limited to rural areas, villages, and minor towns. For instance, in 2015, the YPG liberated the town of Tel Abyad and established a council of local notables to take charge of civic duties.⁹ But the SDF had to deal with more complex social and political dynamics when it captured Raqqa city in October 2017, since the original population was much larger than Tel Abyad’s prewar population of 15,000 people.¹⁰

Raqqa was the symbolic capital of the Islamic State. With no central government—at least none the United States would have considered legitimate—to claim responsibility after the fighting ended, the U.S.-led military coalition put pressure on the SDF to develop a plan for post–Islamic State governance. In its previous experiences in other areas, the SDF had gathered notables in local councils in villages and towns prior to battle in order to address the governance needs of the population in the aftermath of military operations. But in Raqqa, the SDF’s plan proved problematic.

They proceeded according to a similar pattern as they advanced in the rural areas around Raqqa city. In April 2017, in the small town of ‘Ain ‘Issa, 65 kilometers north of Raqqa, SDF leaders organized a gathering of tribal figures originally from the city. They formed the Raqqa Council (Majlis al-Raqqa) in anticipation of the Islamic State’s defeat.¹¹ The council is overwhelmingly made up of Arabs friendly to the SDF and includes figures well known in Raqqa, which appeared to be part of the SDF’s strategy to gain local legitimacy for its rule. However, its adoption of a motto inspired by PKK leader Abdullah Öcalan—“The brotherhood of the people and coexistence are a guarantee for the democratic nation”¹²—suggested it sought to maintain the ideological influence of the PKK even in Arab-populated areas.

Once Raqqa was taken, however, the SDF was not able to adopt the approach employed in other liberated areas. It has postponed handing over power to the local council, as Raqqa’s infrastructure was destroyed during the campaign against the Islamic State and the city still needs to be demined. The SDF manages checkpoints and has set up a local police force, but this underlines how unprepared the council remains to fulfill its duties without the SDF’s support. All this makes it difficult for people to return.

It is a common refrain among Syrians in Turkey that, when asked whether they will return to Syria, they respond, “Return to where?”

Even once the city is cleared of mines, other challenges will remain. The greatest is that Raqqa will remain largely cut off from neighboring areas in Syria with which it was historically linked and upon which it depended economically. Before the conflict, Raqqa’s central location between Deir Ezzor, Hasakeh, and Aleppo Governorates made it an important trading center, particularly for agricultural products heading to Aleppo. Because the central government in Damascus viewed Raqqa and eastern Syria in general as places that produced strategic resources, such as oil, cotton, and grain, it facilitated the smooth flow of trade, for example by appointing trusted officials to oversee silos in the area.¹³ While the war economy and black market trade will probably continue in the governorates, the commercial trade links that existed in the past and were severed during the conflict are unlikely to be reestablished in the foreseeable future. The sheer number of checkpoints run by armed groups in the area, along with the competing and overlapping administrative structures that have been imposed in the absence of a central Syrian authority, mean that previous trade relations cannot be effectively revived today, let alone properly regulated.

A second major challenge is that urban elites in Raqqa are more likely to resist the scheme the SDF applied in small towns. The SDF will, first, need to win the trust of the civil servants, engineers, teachers, doctors, and civil society activists without whom the city cannot recover its social cohesion. That is especially true of the many who have started new lives and opened businesses in Turkey, or have otherwise found work, established new relationships, or put their children in school. While few desire to remain in Turkey indefinitely, the destruction and lack of security in Syria has prevented most from returning.¹⁴ Indeed, it will continue to be difficult for anyone to go back when the city has been heavily destroyed, social structures completely disrupted, and newly empowered leaders lack autonomy from Kurdish commanders in decisionmaking and security matters.¹⁵ It is a common refrain among Syrians in Turkey that, when asked whether they will return to Syria, they respond, “Return to where?” Before uprooting their lives again, local elites will need to be assured that the new governance model in Raqqa can function properly and remain stable.

A third challenge lies in relations with the regime in Damascus and with Turkey. The Syrian regime has a vested interest in the failure of governance models that are outside its authority, while Ankara is vehemently opposed to the growing Kurdish influence along its border with Syria. Many former tribal leaders from Raqqa Governorate now reside in Damascus and the regime has maintained tribal contacts who may act as spoilers in any process of political transition. The SDF’s new local governance system will create winners and losers among powerful figures in Raqqa, empowering some parties and disempowering others. This will allow those seeking to destabilize the new order to exploit any grievances to their own advantage.

Besides reconstruction and governance, potential returnees—particularly local elites who can earn a living elsewhere—fear that, upon going home, they might face new rivals put in place by the SDF or might be targeted by its security and screening procedures. If returnees feel that they no longer have a role to play in their city, despite the Islamic State’s defeat, even a full-scale reconstruction process will likely not be enough to convince them to return to Raqqa.

Deir Ezzor: A Destroyed Epicenter

The governorate of Deir Ezzor suffers from numerous problems as well. Deir Ezzor city, the historic hub of the governorate, has been devastated by conflict and is unlikely to be in a position to reassert itself or regain its former role anytime soon. Even if it could do so, the rest of the governorate has been fragmented into isolated pockets that are controlled by various armed factions. This has undermined overall stability and any hope of an extensive return of refugees to the area.

Before 2011, Deir Ezzor city acted as the epicenter of eastern Syria.¹⁶ The regime maintained the largest military base in the region there, and the headquarters of the powerful Air Force Intelligence Directorate (Al-Mukhabarat al-Jawiyyeh) for Hasakeh, Raqqa, and Deir Ezzor Governorates was located in the city. Euphrates University (Jam‘at al-Furat), which drew students from across eastern Syria, was also based in Deir Ezzor. The presence of military forces and intelligence agencies in the city underlined not only its economic importance but also the regime’s anxieties that the city could slip out of its control.¹⁷

The most significant differences between Deir Ezzor and Raqqa are mainly related to geography. Deir Ezzor city is twice the area of Raqqa city, and Deir Ezzor Governorate is also significantly larger than Raqqa Governorate. Whereas Raqqa is a city surrounded by villages, Deir Ezzor city is essentially a region surrounded by other regions, with far greater distances between population centers. The regions around Deir Ezzor city are divided by residents into quadrants: the eastern and western countrysides, referred to as Rif Sharqi and Rif Gharbi, respectively; the areas north of Deir Ezzor, referred to as the Jazira; and the areas south, known as the Shamiyya. The northern and southern quadrants are divided by the Euphrates River cutting through the city.

Due to the importance of Deir Ezzor city, the Syrian regime expended considerable blood and treasure to defend its presence there after the uprising began in 2011 and during the siege by the Islamic State between early 2015 and September 2017.¹⁸ This meant that the regime was best positioned to take over control of the city and its surroundings after the siege was broken. The social makeup of Deir Ezzor is complex, containing an educated middle class and business elites, some of whose members do not currently live in the city but maintain vital connections to its economy. While the business elites in particular have necessary ties to the regime, they tend to operate independently of one another, meaning a unified endeavor to return refugees to the area is unlikely. In addition, many residents of Deir Ezzor city are of tribal backgrounds, and their ties shape the urban geography, which tends to affirm their separation more than their unity. Certain quarters are named for tribes historically associated with those areas.

Though the regime has retaken Deir Ezzor, the city has suffered severe destruction on a scale similar to the quarters of Homs and Aleppo that were under rebel control. Most of the population has been displaced and the regime seems to have no real plan for remedying this situation soon.¹⁹ When asked about reconciliation prospects, one regime official observed in June 2017, “We are reconciling with the land, not the people.”²⁰ What this statement suggested at the time was, first, that more people would be displaced toward SDF-held areas as the regime advanced; and, second, that the regime’s priority was to retake land, which would give it leverage to negotiate the return of the displaced on its own terms. This was similar to the regime’s logic in the eastern half of Aleppo city, which was almost empty when government forces recaptured it in December 2016.

Though the regime has retaken Deir Ezzor, the city has suffered severe destruction on a scale similar to the quarters of Homs and Aleppo that were under rebel control.

A strategy of politically exploiting the return of the displaced would give the regime an opportunity to regain international recognition, by compelling foreign governments to negotiate with Damascus to facilitate such homecomings. This can only compound the difficulties of return, as many former residents may be reluctant to go back out of fear that they could be arrested or forcibly subjected to military conscription.

The destruction of Deir Ezzor city as Syria’s eastern hub represents a historic development with no clear resolution in sight. The regime’s main concern when it launched its offensive in Deir Ezzor Governorate was to regain as much territory as possible and reconnect these areas with those it held in the rest of eastern Syria. The defeat of the Islamic State paved the way for a new form of competition to determine what forms of governance, and by whom, could be established in the areas formerly held by the group. Whether those displaced can return or not will depend on who will govern these areas and how. Even after the military defeat of the Islamic State, new rulers may control and even restrict refugees’ return for security reasons.

The Obstacles to a Return of the Displaced

The Case of Raqqa

The future of Raqqa Governorate will be shaped largely by two trends that have emerged during the Syrian conflict. The first is how local power structures, particularly the role of middle-class professionals, have been transformed by the conflict and are unlikely to return to what prevailed before. The second is the new security screening mechanisms developed and applied by the U.S.-backed forces that fought to retake Raqqa Governorate from the Islamic State. The result of both trends has been the emergence of a new local elite as well as implementation of a security model in Raqqa that is invasive and largely arbitrary. Such developments will have major implications for the governorate’s population and the scale of a refugee return.

When the SDF announced the beginning of its campaign to retake Raqqa, locals began fleeing to three camps for displaced people that the SDF had established north of the city.²¹ There they have been vetted by a combination of groups that include the Asayish, a police force composed of locally recruited Arabs; the YPG; and local notables whom the Kurdish forces had empowered to build networks of trusted people who could personally vouch for the individuals being investigated.²² These notables have used their familiarity with Raqqa’s major families—in some cases, they are related to them—to provide valuable information and say, with a fair level of precision, whether certain people had worked with the Islamic State and to what extent.

The relatively unstructured and random nature of this vetting process, which often relies on middlemen, is ripe for abuse and may dissuade refugees from returning to Raqqa. There is also a high probability of revenge attacks and the potential for massacres, given the personal grievances harbored by many fighters. For example, an SDF combatant—formerly a member of the Free Syrian Army, who was displaced with his family when the Islamic State seized full control of Raqqa in January 2014—claimed that 180 members of his extended family had been killed. When asked who was responsible for their deaths, he did not blame the Islamic State, but instead provided a list of names of people from the city, suggesting that the Islamic State’s defeat would not mark the end of his vendetta.²³ Were this combatant to be involved in the vetting process, he would likely be able to gather detailed information on his potential targets and even expand his list—an option open to others in positions of authority in the SDF. The seeming ease with which the vetting process facilitates personal acts of retribution could also undermine the legitimacy of any local authority attempting to exert control and enforce stability.

So far, the SDF has assumed that the people of Raqqa city who remained after the Islamic State took over are affiliated with the group until proven otherwise.²⁴ This is due in large part to the fact that the Islamic State thoroughly embedded itself in the local social structure, requiring residents to attend mosques and small businesses to pay taxes. It is difficult today to distinguish between Islamic State sympathizers and civilians who were forced to collaborate against their will or were merely trying to survive. The guilty-until-proven-innocent approach is deeply problematic. It is conducive to abusive detentions and interrogations, extrajudicial killings, and other forms of violence that will only heighten public resentment and social instability.

So far, the SDF has assumed that the people of Raqqa city who remained after the Islamic State took over are affiliated with the group until proven otherwise.

What does all this mean for issues such as new leadership structures in Raqqa Governorate, the return of refugees, and reconstruction? With regard to a new local leadership, two types of groups have emerged. The SDF has empowered one group of leaders by appointing them to governance structures, such as local councils. A second group is gaining influence through the security screening process in the aftermath of the fight against the Islamic State. These two groups will hold the keys to refugee return and reconstruction in Raqqa. The problem is that they have been selected in a top-down process, meaning that they are not truly representative of their communities. Therefore, they have little direct stake in a return of refugees, for whom they do not speak.

The Case of Deir Ezzor

In Deir Ezzor, the situation is somewhat different. While taking Raqqa Governorate essentially required encircling and capturing the principal city, the military campaign against the Islamic State in Deir Ezzor involved multiple offensives launched against different geographical targets by diverse forces from many directions. In addition, the forces in Deir Ezzor represented a broader mix than those in Raqqa—not only the SDF and U.S.-led coalition forces, but also various Free Syrian Army factions as well as the Syrian Army and allied militias.²⁵ The severely fragmented nature of the region will affect the way post–Islamic State control is divided among these forces and will shape the nature of the security mechanisms they establish. This, in turn, will determine the prospects for stability and the return of refugees.

Fragmentation has undermined the role of Deir Ezzor city as an economic and political axis point for the wider governorate, while also severing its long-standing links to Hasakeh and Raqqa. However, from the start of the Syrian conflict, the regime strived to ensure that a minimal level of state institutions would remain functioning in the city. For example, it kept the university and a few hospitals open, while also continuing to issue official documents. This gave the regime a base from which to expand its influence once the military campaign ended.²⁶

In all likelihood, Deir Ezzor will be broken up into islands of control, each isolated from one another and with its own administrative and security apparatuses.

A pressing question is what Deir Ezzor will look like in the months and years ahead. In all likelihood, the governorate will be broken up into islands of control, each isolated from one another and with its own administrative and security apparatuses that do not coordinate with those in other areas. As such, it would be impossible to make plans for a return of displaced persons to Deir Ezzor Governorate as a whole. Rather, the context of these islands will need to be assessed individually and plans of return tailored for each—a far more difficult task.

An overview of the situation around Deir Ezzor city illustrates why this is the case. In Deir Ezzor’s western countryside south of the Euphrates River, the dominant Bousaraya tribe’s leaders, such as Ahmed Shalash, are closely affiliated with the Assad regime. This gives the regime an advantage in the area. However, in the northwest countryside, matters are more complicated. There, the head of the dominant Baggara tribe recently resumed being a regime ally after five years of supporting the opposition.²⁷ The area is important because it borders SDF-controlled territory. However, the SDF also recruited members of the tribe in its own fight against the Islamic State in Hasakeh Governorate and other areas. This illustrates the divisions that have grown within the tribe.²⁸

In the eastern countryside of Deir Ezzor, the situation is even more intricate thanks to the presence of natural resources such as gas and oil. After the uprising began in 2011, this area saw heavy fighting, largely over control of these resources.²⁹ Most groups in the eastern countryside are associated with the Aqeedat tribe, whose name is derived from the Arabic for “contract,” denoting that the tribe is an umbrella grouping of smaller tribes that agreed to unite at the beginning of the 1700s.³⁰ The capacity of the Aqeedat’s subgroups to act in solidarity with one another has varied over time, reaching its low point when the Syrian uprising turned into a civil war. As of 2013, various Aqeedat subtribes and clans were fighting among themselves over control of oil resources, often reviving old feuds or grievances, or accusing each other of belonging to the al-Qaeda-affiliated Jabhat Fatah al-Sham (formerly Jabhat al-Nusra) or the Islamic State.

The political implications of the conflict among members of the Aqeedat have been profound, leading to a collapse of tribal solidarity and making it impossible to base any post–Islamic State governance model on tribal identity and belong