How Canada is fighting Daesh with friendship

Carrying infants and herding young children, 20 Syrian men and women file into a six-metre-by-six-metre plastic-covered tent in a refugee camp on a wet, grey morning. A facilitator from a local aid group, a young woman in her early 30s, greets them as they sit.

“What is communication?” she asks.

“Linking words together,” says a young woman wearing a head scarf and a long-sleeved green dress. She cradles a baby in one arm. “Sharing ideas,” a bearded middle-aged man offers.

They’re here for a Canadian government-funded workshop aimed at helping them get along better with their Lebanese neighbours. Canadian fighter jets are no longer pounding Daesh targets in Iraq, but some of the resources from Canada’s cancelled bombing mission have been reallocated toward international aid projects aimed at fostering “social cohesion” between Syrian refugees and their hosts. For the Canadian government, these projects are a new weapon against Daesh.

It is a subtle weapon; social cohesion improvements lack the immediate impact of a bomb. But can good intentions, friendly smiles and linking words be an effective response to terrorism?

In the early years of the Syrian civil war, Lebanon welcomed Syrians with open arms. But now, seven years in, some aid groups say fear and mistrust between Syrian refugees and Lebanese locals threatens push the most vulnerable into the arms of extremist groups. Tension has risen as Syrian refugees’ share of Lebanon’s population has climbed to 25 per cent.

Some local governments have imposed dusk-to-dawn curfews on refugees. In some towns, officials have ordered the shutdown of all businesses run by Syrians, while others ban local businesses from hiring refugees.

Economic woes compound the tension. Experts say refugees and less well-off Lebanese are increasingly competing for jobs and services; research from the American University of Beirut suggests 90 per cent of Lebanese nationals view Syrian refugees as a threat to their ability to earn a living. The World Bank estimates that the Syrian crisis has pushed 200,000 Lebanese into poverty and left 300,000 more unemployed.

To help ease the strain, Canada announced last year military and development aid to Lebanon as part of a three-year, $1.6-billion stabilization package for the region. Then-foreign affairs minister Stéphane Dion deemed Lebanon to be at a “tipping point” from the pressures of hosting refugees and keeping Daesh at bay on its northeastern border. The group has been linked to several attacks in Lebanon, including five suicide bombings at a refugee camp near the Syrian border on June 30.

So far, $187 million of that total has been allocated to programming in Lebanon that aims to reduce social tensions, Global Affairs Canada spokesperson Brittany Venhola-Fletcher said in an email.

“When people are having positive experiences, they’re interacting with people in their communities, and they’re not necessarily getting the messages of violent extremism,” said Michelle Cameron, Canada’s ambassador, in an interview at the Canadian Embassy in Beirut.

At the refugee workshop in Bekaa Valley, Daesh (also known as ISIS) is not discussed. Talk turns to how customary greetings and everyday social interactions differ in Syria and Lebanon.

“I learned a lot I didn’t know before,” says Loay, 21, a clean-cut young man from Deir Izzor, in eastern Syria, who has lived at this camp for three years. “They’ve helped me communicate with the Lebanese community here.”

But as a casual labourer at farms and constructions sites, he rarely works the same job for more than a few days. He frankly acknowledges that building relationships with Lebanese locals remains difficult.

Loay’s story highlights the limits of Canada’s strategy. It was set during the successful Liberal election campaign, with the party’s slogans calling for “evidence-based policy” on issues like climate change and health care. “We are for what will be effective, not for what will make us feel good to say at any given moment,” Justin Trudeau declared while unveiling Canada’s new anti-Daesh plan in February 2016.

But some question whether teaching social cohesion and “sharing ideas” is truly evidence-based.

“The (humanitarian) sector as a whole struggles to measure the impact of any humanitarian intervention, social cohesion or not,” said Joseph Guay, who wrote a World Vision report evaluating how international aid groups have handled refugee-related tension in Lebanon and Jordan.

He was surprised by the “lack of academic rigour” on matters related to social cohesion.

“You can tangibly measure toilets built — that’s one thing — but with social phenomena like social cohesion, then that’s way harder,” Guay said.

Canada has also been criticized for potentially playing a role in aggravating tensions in Lebanon.

Most of the 1.5 million Syrian refugees in Lebanon are Sunni Muslims — as are Daesh members, at least nominally. For many Lebanese Christians that’s a source of deep unease.

“If we accept this number of refugees currently here, you can wave bye-bye to the Christians in Lebanon,” says Sejaan Azzi, a Christian and, until late last year, Lebanon’s minister of employment.

Lebanon is unique among Middle Eastern countries in that a large Christian minority wields significant political power. Azzi says the staggering number of Sunni refugees threatens that privileged position by shrinking the Christian share of the total population. He predicts increased violence, even a potential war, if Syrians are allowed to stay.

Canada’s effort to ease Lebanon’s burden has upset some Lebanese Christians. Documents obtained from Global Affairs Canada using access to information laws show Gebran Bassil, Lebanon’s powerful foreign minister and son-in-law to the president, questioned whether Canada was targeting Christian refugees for resettlement while leaving Sunni refugees in Lebanon.

The document, a briefing note prepared for Stéphane Dion in 2016, states that the large number of Sunni refugees remaining in Lebanon “is of great concern for most Christian political leaders.”

Cameron, the Canadian ambassador, downplays Christian resentment, arguing that because the Lebanese government has said it won’t grant refugees citizenship or voting rights, such fears are an overreaction.

Aid groups have scrambled to try to contain the tension. Early studies point to the benefits of bringing Syrians and Lebanese together in schools and employment programs. Ensuring that needy Lebanese also benefit from international aid has also been prioritized.

Canada now requires that all projects aimed at helping Syrian refugees also be open to needy Lebanese.

At a bustling medical clinic on a busy street in nearby Qabelias, these strategies are being put to the test. Syrian refugees and Lebanese nationals sit side-by-side, cramming the hallways as they wait to be seen. The centre’s chief doctor, Darwish Khan, says that 35 per cent of the hundreds of patients treated each month are Syrian refugees. International donors, including Canada, fund the clinic.

An hour’s drive south, it is recess at Sohmor Mixed Intermediate Public School. When the bell rings, boys and girls in neat blue uniforms line up and playfully file inside. After falling into disrepair, the 50-year-old building was largely renovated with Canadian money in 2016 to serve Lebanese and Syrian children.

With 26 of its 96 students Syrian refugees, the school is considered a success.

Cameron says ensuring Syrian refugee children receive an education is crucial “to start insulating a population from Daesh-type messages or recruitment.”

But Sohmor is a drop in the bucket. Human Rights Watch estimates that 250,000 Syrian children are not in school in Lebanon. The UN dispatches volunteers across the country — refugees themselves — to spread the word about free health care and education. But with limited funds and 1.5 million refugees to reach, progress is slow.

Despite the warning of possible war from Azzi, the former minister, no significant violence has occurred. Some take this as a sign that social cohesion programming is working, despite the difficulty measuring it.

Whatever the reason, Cameron warns the current stability won’t hold endlessly “This can’t be the steady state forever. There needs to be a solution in Syria.”

It’s a frank acknowledgement that without an end to the Syrian civil war, no amount of aid can contain rising social tensions indefinitely.

Says Cameron: “We need to allow people to go home.”

Corbett Hancey is a Gordon Sinclair Foundation Reporting Fellow.