Reports | 25 05 2020
By: Kinan Kouja
Given the rise in popularity of Syrian television drama on the Arab scene, Syrian drama works started to be injected with a variety of spoken [Syrian] dialects. At first, it was one character in the series that spoke a Homsi or Aleppan dialect—but later expanded to entire series being written in a dialect other than the hitherto predominant Damascene dialect. This was a key reason for the success of action comedies in particular, such as Dai’ah Dai’aa [Lost Village] and Khirbeh.
Much as in society, also in drama as well—each dialect was put into a preset mould: The security man spoke invariably in an Alawite dialect; the policeman in Idilibi; the merchant in Damascene or Aleppan; anyone speaking in the Eastern provinces’ dialect would often be depicted as the naive simpleton, the butt of comic situations while as if lost in major cities.
If one were to take note of the intermarriage between the productive capital of Syrian drama and the Syrian regime; one should also pause to consider the turning of the Alawite dialect—with which the dreaded Mukhabarat [secret service] men speak —into a comedic effect in comedy series, such as Buq’at Daw’ [Spotlight]. This might be considered as reducing its presumed “prestige;” the question, therefore, is quite justified: Could such an issue have slipped past the authorities? Or was this an intentional “softening,” so as to make this dialect an acceptable aspect of the authoritarian influence for which it stands—thereby reducing negativity and hostility towards it?
Out of an overwhelming desire to project a perception of influence, some who were not, in fact, Alawites, used to speak the dialect to emulate its perceptive dominance. After the revolution, detainees spoke of their own experiences with investigators emulating the Alawite dialect, before being betrayed by a word launching them back into their own original dialect. A sort of manufactured similitude with the perceived image of a person loyal to the regime to the point of reincarnating its identity. In the civil service, the dialect was used by some to project an air of influence and, consequently, facilitate their transactions.
The person usually “borrowing” this dialect would employ it exclusively with non-Alawites. It would be almost certainly comical if a non-Alawite soldier, for example, used it in front of his senior Alawite officer.
With the rapid developments of the Syrian Revolution, however, this [Alawite] dialect started to expose its user to risks in the areas outside the regime’s control. With the increasing of kidnapping or murder incidents on sectarian suspicion, it has become common for Syrians moving between various regions to change their dialect according to the nature of the dominant forces. Intoning the qaf [a letter characteristic of the Alawite dialect], or the fact that the identity of the person refers to a particular region/sect, may facilitate his passage on certain roadblocks, while potentially subjecting him to a mortal threat at others.
Today, in the era of the Great Syrian emigration to Europe, Syrians mount their palms [rubber dinghies] with other people they do not know. This forces them to display great care, necessary for a road trip free of headache; speaking a “white” or colorless in fear of any knee-jerk reactions. The same is the case inside the asylum camps: The presence of someone in the same room with other people, many of whom may have lost family or friends at the hands of Syrian authorities; or experienced detention, torture, and humiliation in its prisons; may sometimes obliged them to hide their true dialect and identity. There is a tangible fear of being ostracized or boycotted, without being given the space to explain one’s own moral position on what is happening in Syria.
Thus, in the midst of what this regime’s experience of imbalances and changes to its power structure; it was almost inevitable that such imbalance would affect an essential symbol—its dialect. This is contrasted to the rise in dialects of those provinces that rebelled against the regime, and came out of its control; thereby signifying a new equilibrium of power.
Opinion articles published do not necessarily reflect the opinion of Rozana.