I was meant to be shadowing the anti-drug squad. But when I call my contact in the Syrian government, as I huddle by the stove in my Damascus flat, there\u2019s only bad news. \u201cWe\u2019re overwhelmed,\u201d he says apologetically, explaining that the unit I was meant to follow is busy fighting Kurds in the north. Before that, they were busy again, working to ensure that the revolution\u2019s anniversary wasn\u2019t disrupted by ISIS. Syria\u2019s drug squads, in many ways, aren\u2019t trained counter-narcotics officers at all. They\u2019d started out as soldiers and rebels \u2014 and only later were drawn into anti-drug work. Even now, they behave more like militiamen than drug-busting law enforcers, their Kalashnikovs hanging loosely by their sides.<\/p>\n
Almost 18 months after Bashar al-Assad fled into exile, such frantic improvisation is unsurprising. It\u2019s also necessary. For if, by its end, his Baathist regime had transformed the country into a virtual narco-state, whose products surfaced in ports from Rotterdam and Genoa, the Syrian drug trade is alive and kicking. Indeed, one of the civil war\u2019s most enduring legacies is that Assad\u2019s former country has now become a major transit and drug hub, not just in Europe but across Asia and Africa too, encompassing narcotics as varied as crystal meth and liquid cocaine.<\/p>\n
Yet it\u2019s Captagon that truly keeps Syria\u2019s drug empire afloat. Offering a blend of euphoria and detachment, the stimulant is popular among young Gulf club-goers and overstretched medical students seeking an edge in their exams. Over time, it\u2019s become one of the country\u2019s most lucrative exports. As he visits London for the first time today, President Ahmed al-Sharaa will doubtless parade<\/a> a new Syria, one primed for investment and revived Western contact. The truth, though, is that Syria has become a legal black hole, a place where drugs can disappear, before reappearing elsewhere with little law enforcement scrutiny. That matters: not only for Syria and its own fragile future, but also for the region, Europe and the wider world.<\/p>\n Before the revolution, drugs weren\u2019t really part of Syria\u2019s story. There was cannabis, of course, grown in pockets around Baalbek, Homs and Latakia, and peddled by small-time gangsters and Hezbollah. But overall, Syria wasn\u2019t known as a drug-exporting state, while dealers themselves were dealt with harshly. I remember living in a Damascus suburb and seeing funerals for local dealers who\u2019d been killed in shootouts with police. Then, young men would smoke cigarettes like chimneys (they still do), and might have the odd drink, but it was rare to hear of drug-taking. There was a special stigma attached to its use. Captagon, for its part, was virtually unheard of. Syria did not present itself, to its neighbours, to Europe, or to its own citizens, as a country whose most lucrative export was narcotics.<\/p>\n Then came the war, and it turned Bashar al-Assad into a narco boss with a country attached. Captagon\u2019s appeal isn\u2019t hard to grasp. Over the past decade, parts of the Middle East \u2014 particularly the Gulf \u2014 have experienced a gradual loosening of social and religious restrictions. Among a young, affluent population with disposable income, ample free time, and a growing appetite for entertainment, the inexpensive stimulant has found a ready market. Easy to manufacture, easy to package, easy to move, it requires no fields, seasons or harvests.<\/p>\n All a would-be kingpin needs are chemical precursors \u2014\u00a0 usually a mixture of amphetamines, caffeine and various fillers \u2014 alongside machinery and protection. As Assad was crushed by sanctions and the demands of an insatiable war machine, Captagon production proved to be an invaluable financial lifeline. By this stage, the regime boasted a growing ecosystem of militias and businessmen who propped up what remained of the hollowed-out state. Only trouble was, they all needed paying, and Captagon was the answer. And since the regime was now involved, they could manufacture most of those chemicals themselves, or else import them under official cover, attracting little scrutiny about their intended use. Importers like Eyad Lahham and former MPs like Amer Tayseer Kheiti were in on the racket, as was Assad\u2019s brother Maher, who added drug running to his list of dubious accolades. Reports suggest that the Assads legally imported chemicals from India before producing Captagon from a disused potato-chip factory in the Damascus suburb of Douma.<\/p>\n At first, the Assad regime denied any connection to the drug. Its appearance was instead blamed on ISIS, with the \u201cjihadi drug\u201d supposedly used by fighters to remain calm in battle. On 1 July 2020, Italian police seized 14 tons of Captagon in Salerno, a port south of Naples, and initially seemed inclined to believe the shipment was indeed intended to fund ISIS. The Italians also explored links between the Islamists and the Neapolitan Camorra. No Camorra-ISIS connection was ever substantiated. What is known, though, is that one of Europe\u2019s biggest drug traffickers, with Camorra ties, was arrested<\/a>\u00a0by Hayat Tahrir al-Sham\u00a0\u2014 al-Sharaa\u2019s former outfit \u2014\u00a0while attempting to cross into regime-held territory in 2022.<\/p>\n