Homecomers

"The shift from bookstore to publisher and distributor still involves selling culture; it's en mass, but still, it's culture," says Samar Haddad, general manager and owner of Atlas Publishing & Distribution. "It's very difficult to sell these days, but we're trying." Haddad has been around books in one way or another her whole life. Atlas itself was first opened in the 1950s by Haddad's father; it was a regular bookstore, where people would come in off the street and take a look at what was on offer. Before leaving for Canada, Haddad had worked for three years side by side with her father, learning the business and getting a feel for the trends. "He was always around, he introduced me to all his colleagues, gave advice all the time. He was definitely a source of support," she says.  

Writing the Homecomers articles, it is surprising the number of Syrian powerhouses were out in the world, and how many of them have chosen to come back. Taking a quick look at Anas Abu-Saoud’s career, you may be astounded that any one person can have so varied, so fast-paced, and so distinguished a career.

“There are a lot of problems here,” he says, his eyes gleaming. “But opportunities are created because of problems, and it’s an exciting challenge to solve them.” Those who know him realize that Fuad Lahham isn’t one to turn away from a challenge. He inherits his taste for industry from his father, who was the head of the Damascus Businessmen’s Association in 1943, the group responsible for bringing industry to Syria in the form of the first glass factory just outside Damascus.

There are no barriers between people, nations or civilizations

Sitting in the midst of the hustle and bustle of Rawda café, men come up to him and say hello, parting with some vital information, and his cell phone rings a number of times. He apologizes every time, but it is good to see this man in his element, and he seems positively content. “The film industry is all about networking and getting contacts,” he explains. “I like to see a bright side to any situations; if I’m an unknown in England, than in Syria I’d be known.”

“It hurts me to see ancient cities like Damascus and Aleppo being spoiled so badly with unorganized, unplanned growth,” says Sarhad Haffar, general manager of Emaar Syria, seated in the company’s palatial offices at the Eighth Gate project, near Damascus. “For the last few decades, activity in the construction sector was minimal, and there was a big gap in the know-how, professionalism, and ability to pull off big projects. This negatively impacted the society and the necessary urban development of the city.”

Reading the Homecomers column, perhaps the enormity of returning back to Syria is not impressed strongly enough. For most here, it would seem that you are returning to the familiar, to a family and society that understands you and wants to help you. Most often, however, you are actually returning to the unknown, to a place where you have few professional contacts, and where you must start everything anew. It is a brave step, and Mohammad Ajlani is a brave man for taking it.

A well-known, well-respected political analyst and lecturer in France with a high media presence, Ajlani has returned to Syria with the will and desire to make a difference, to help Syrian society with all the skills at his disposal. His family worried that the adaptation process would be too taxing, and that leaving their well-established lifestyle in Paris would be too difficult a change. “Syria today is welcoming those who are trying to wake up the country,” he says. “I really see that I can make a contribution to Syrian society. My ideas on the political situation, and my love of education and sharing my knowledge can really make an impact.”