Your country needs you, believe me

I still remember that morning in May 1997. I woke up earlier than usual. The sky was gray and the temperature was cold outdoors; what a nice and sunny spring in Paris, I said to myself. I could not take it anymore. I had to return to Syria. At least there, one can feel the four different seasons of the year. Immediate questions came to mind, however: if I go back, what will I do? Where will I live? How will I evade my compulsory military service? I had spent my childhood, teens, and early adulthood in France, studying for school, university, and then working in Paris. The ‘Syria’ option was going to be very difficult for me. That was a fact. But since I was bound to do it sooner or later, since I did not plan to spend the rest of my life as an expatriate, then why not now?

I had just obtained my degree in Business Administration from a reputed French university and ended a contract with a private company where I learned to design websites, just as the Internet revolution was overtaking Europe. I returned in July 1997 to start my new life in Damascus. The first three months were very entertaining; it was like a long holiday. Then reality came in. I wasn’t going back to Paris and this was not a holiday. This was now home and I had to get used to it. I had to settle into my new life, a life that had a slower rhythm than the one I had gotten used to in France—a life that seemed easier back then.

I decided to design websites, a new and unexplored domain in Syria back then. I visited businesspeople trying to sell them a concept that was non-existent in Syria; marketing their business virtually, through the world wide web. When I explained how important it was for commercial establishments to have websites, people just stared back at me with blank expressions, huge round eyes, as if I had come from another planet. The idea was new, strange, and quiet expensive at the time.

I then decided to create a website to pro-mote tourism in Syria and visited the minister, Denho Dawoud. He encouraged the project and it was a golden opportunity for me to promote myself and show what I was worth to potential e-business people in Syria. Looking back I can safely say that the Ministry’s website was a success— perhaps not by today’s standards—but certainly, it was a turning point in my life. For more than two years, visitors from around the world clicked on this website as the official portal (the only portal) for the Syrian Ministry of Tourism.

That project opened new doors for me, and I actually began to enjoy my new life in Syria. The website design business began to grow and became more accepted in the business community. In a relatively short period of time, I succeeded in making my name interchangeable with that of website creation in Damascus. Two years later, I was confronted with the issue of my military service, which I had managed to postpone on the pretext that I was still a student and not eligible for the military draft. The postponement period was over and I had to prepare to go to the Syrian Army for two years and a half. Just as I was miserably preparing to enlist, President Bashar al-Assad, who had just came to power, signed a decree in July 2000, allowing expatriate Syrians to pay money as a ‘substitute’ for their military service. The laws applied to me because I had spent a many years living outside of Syria. I quickly paid the due amount, and with another bulky obstacle removed from my path, I embarked on my new life—again. I was convinced that by creating websites, either to promote Syrian tourism or for private companies, I was contributing to promoting my country’s image and serving it in a far better manner, than if I had gone into the Syrian Army.

It would be illogical—and criminal—to import foreign manpower from Lebanon or the Arab Gulf when we have such talent among Syrians

Today, ten-years later, some details of my new life have changed and others have taken permanent form. I work as an employee for a private owned company, and am still active in the world of e-business in Syria. I managed, over a ten-year period, to get married, buy a house, and own a car. I am a proud father of a 5-year old girl. Why in the world would I think of leaving to become an expatriate once again? I am satisfied with my new life— and proud of it. Sadly, I hear strange things in Syrian society, almost on a daily basis. It is when young people insist that the minute they leave Syria, their careers will be paved with success, money, and happiness. They believe—literarily—that the minute they board a plane lying out of Damascus International Airport, a new and better life is awaiting them. That is so wrong and so different from reality. What I want to say is that taking the decision to pack up and return to Syria, no matter how many lucrative offers one has abroad, is not a difficult one. It needs to be followed, however, with persistence, and ability. One has to prove himself in Syria—just like anywhere else. New private companies are mushrooming all over Syria. They all need experienced people to run their management. Banks are opening in Syria. So are insurance companies, and universities. All of them need Syrian expatriates. It would be illogical—and criminal—to import foreign manpower from Lebanon or the Arab Gulf when we have such talent among Syrians, both at home and in the expatriate community. Finally I am sending this message to all Syrian expatriates around the world. Believe me, your country needs you. You can contribute to its development by living here much more than by spending your cash at restaurants and hotels in Damascus during the summer. Wrapping up, a Syrian proverb comes to mind: “Ask some-one who has tried. Do not ask the doctor!”