Syria’s Kurds put IS on trial with focus on reconciliation
QAMISHLI, SYRIA » The “Defense of the People” Court is an almost intimate place. Three judges — two men and a woman — sat behind a large desk. The defendant, a former Islamic State group fighter in Syria, faced them in a chair only a yard away, close enough for a conversation. A space heater in the center and mustard-colored couch and armchairs made the room even homier.
The judges are Kurds, belonging to the U.S-backed self-rule authority that the community has set up over much of the north and east of Syria. After defeating IS in battle, Syria’s Kurds are now eager to show they can bring justice against the group’s members. The emphasis is on leniency and reconciliation — in marked contrast to Iraq, where harsh and swift verdicts on IS suspects seem geared to vengeance.
Under questioning, the 19-year-old Syrian Arab — his hair bushy and beard scraggly from months in detention — described how he had joined IS for nine months, fighting government forces. He was wounded, eventually deserted and went into hiding. Then in November, when IS was collapsing, he turned himself in to Kurdish authorities.
“By God, I regret it,” he said of his joining IS. He pleaded to the judges, “I want you to help me. I am married and my mother is also at home. I would really like to return to them.”
“You did well,” the judge replied. “It is in your favor that you were a minor when you enrolled and that you handed yourself in. Good behavior in jail will be even more beneficial.”
The sentence: Two years and nine months in prison, reduced to just nine months because he was a minor and surrendered.
Syrian Kurdish authorities have built a justice system from scratch, without any recognition from the Syrian government or the outside world, and are trying hundreds of Syrians accused of joining IS.
The Kurds have multiple aims in their more lenient approach. They want to extend bridges to eastern Syria’s majority population of Arabs, who deeply distrust their new Kurdish rulers.
They also want to highlight their competence in government and win international legitimacy.
So the Kurds abolished the death sentence and offered reduced sentences to IS members who hand themselves in. The harshest sentence is life in prison, which is actually a 20-year sentence. They organized reconciliation and mediation efforts with major Arab tribes and offered more than 80 IS fighters amnesty last year to foster good tribal relations and convince others to turn themselves in.
In contrast, Iraqi courts have sentenced hundreds of IS suspects to death in swift trials, and even tangential links to the militant group are punished by sentenced of 15 years or life.
The Kurds renamed the terrorism courts, saying that term was too negative. Instead, the tribunals trying IS suspects are called the Defense of the People Courts. Kurdish officials call their prisons “academies,” saying the emphasis is on reeducation. The changes are in line with the group’s “leftist-libertarian” ideology that claims to act as a direct democracy.
But there are also major gaps. There are no defense lawyers; officials say that is because they fear security breaches amid a string of bombings and assassinations against officials blamed on IS cells. Judges keep their identities secret for fear of being targeted. So far, it is impossible to appeal verdicts, though the Kurds say they plan to create appeal tribunals.
On a more basic level, the lack of international recognition puts a stranglehold on the Kurdish courts. Legally speaking, they have no more standing than Syrian rebels’ or even the Islamic State group’ courts. Kurdish authorities complain they are getting no help — including from their chief ally the United States — even though they say they discussed with U.S. officials their needs to develop their legal code and improve practices.
A U.S. State department official said American agencies “are not at this time providing any training to the justice department” of the self-administration.
Kurdish authorities don’t say how many IS suspects they are holding in their prisons, saying the numbers change constantly because of trials, amnesties and new arrests.
There are an estimated 400 foreign fighters held by the Kurdish-led authorities, and approximately some 2,000 women and children, families of foreign fighters, kept in camps under tight security, according to Human Rights Watch. The Kurds have not decided how to handle them, since their home countries don’t want them back but also don’t recognize the Kurdish-run courts.
Aynour Pacha, who coheads the highest council of judges in Qamishli that oversees the courts, said the self-administration is willing and has a right to try them. But she raised the question of whether their countries would take them back after they served their sentences.
“We wish the world would see the burden we are carrying on our shoulders,” she said. “These foreigners who killed our children are a heavy burden.”