Fear and uncertainty among Syrian refugees
Najem al-Moussa was delighted when the news of the overthrow of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad first appeared on the television in his small apartment in Athens.
Then came a terrifying thought: What if Assad's fall meant he and his family would be forced back into the devastated country they fled nine years earlier?
Events in Syria took a seismic turn on Sunday when rebels swept into Damascus in a lightning offensive that forced Assad into exile in Russia and raised hopes of an end to a 13-year civil war that has left the country in ruins, Reuters reports.
Now, as European countries review their asylum policies for Syrians amid the developments, many fear they will have to go back.
"I think my life is here. Not only me, but also my children," said Al-Moussa, a trained lawyer who works as a chef in Athens and is enthralled by television news for days. The life that was provided in Greece, my country was not able to offer, he says, reports Kathimerini.
Hundreds of thousands of people have died in Syria's war, which began in 2011 and pitted Assad's army against various rebel groups. Whole cities are razed to the ground by bombing. Millions have fled or are in need of humanitarian assistance.
Thousands of civilians who had moved to neighboring Turkey and Lebanon returned to Syria this week, their cars full of people, luggage and the hope of a peaceful return home.
But 10 Syrian refugees who spoke to Reuters in Europe and the United Kingdom thought otherwise. Returning would mean the end of the new life for which they had risked everything to build.
Al Musa and his wife Bushra al Bukai fled Damascus in 2015 after the birth of their second child. They spent everything they had on a two-year trip that took them to Sudan, Iran, Turkey and finally Greece.
They now have five children who are all in school and fluent in Greek. No one speaks Arabic, the language of their parents' homeland.
"When we talk, they ask, 'Dad, can we really go back to live in these areas?' How did you live there before?” Al Musa said.
His wife agrees. "I can't imagine my children building their future in Syria." Not at all,” she said, with their youngest son on her lap.
Joy and despair
For the first time, asylum applications from Syrians in the EU were highest in 2015 and 2016 – more than 330.000 in each of those years – before falling significantly in the following three years, EU data show. But applications tripled between 2020 and 2023 after the devastating earthquake and as violence and economic hardship persisted, a Reuters analysis said.
Thousands of those applications are now pending after several European countries, including Greece, this week suspended asylum applications from Syrians as they consider whether Syria is safer now that Assad is gone.
It is unclear whether the asylum seekers will be forced to return home. ProAsyl, a German NGO that provides legal aid to asylum seekers, said the cases would be in limbo until the Foreign Office releases an updated security assessment report on Syria, which could take months.
ProAsyl spokesman Tarek Alaus told Reuters the decision could face legal challenges because authorities in Europe must decide on asylum applications within three to six months of their submission.
However, Al-Moussa's Greek residence permit is being renewed and he is worried. He is not alone.
Syrian vet Hassan Alzager was taking a German class in the city of Erfurt on Monday when he heard that his asylum claim in Germany, which he had hoped would be finalized by the end of the year, had been put on hold.
"This is psychologically devastating. It is difficult that after you decide to live here, build a new life here, learn the language and integrate in this country, now you have to return to your homeland where there are still no basic conditions for life," he told Reuters.
Fearing being drafted into the army or militia, Alzager, 32, said he fled the city of Raqqa in 2018.
"The fall of Assad is a great joy for all Syrians, but we who came here and took on debt to finance this trip, every time we arrive in a new place, we have to start all over again. Now it's hard to think about going back to Syria."
Alsager's concerns were echoed by Syrians in the UK, which has also paused decisions on asylum claims.
Syrian refugee Zafer Nahas applied to a British PhD program just two days before the fall of the Assad regime. Nahas, 34, from Aleppo, said he was a wanted man in Syria after taking part in an anti-government protest there. His grandfather was imprisoned for 13 years, and many of his friends were detained and tortured, he said.
He has been granted asylum in the UK but is now nervous, especially as his wife is pregnant.
"The possibility that the UK authorities will blindly reverse some decisions without taking any personal circumstances into account is worrying," he said.
"It's a whirlwind of thoughts, uncertainties and unnecessary extra worries in our lives," he concluded.