Syria was heaven, then it was engineered to fall

Two Syrians Land In Islamabad

Muzamil opens by asking the most obvious question. Why would anyone move to Pakistan when the entire world atlas is available?

The answer is gatekeeping. One of the guests had tried other doors. “It was like doors were shut just because I’m Syrian, just because of the Syrian nationality,” he says. So when a scholarship to UET Lahore came through, he took it. The other arrived differently: he was accepted to the University of Lahore, but the admissions officer had fabricated the offer entirely. He hadn’t just fooled one person. “After I reached the country here he fooled 15 guys after me. Really. And he was actually working at the university,” the guest recounts.

After wasting a year searching for legitimate admission, he contacted his friend in Islamabad, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. Muzamil probes further, curious about what two stateless Syrians saw when they first arrived. Their observations reveal more about Pakistan than any tourism board could. One guest recalls: “The moment I reached the country here, it was wow. Seriously. All I see around me is green, green, green, green, everywhere. For me I love nature, so that’s a plus point.”

Building A Shawarma Story

The business came later, after they landed on a simple insight. When you’re a foreigner in a new country, you bring your culture with you. In 2016, they started Syrian Guys from a hostel in Lahore where they were living with other Arabs. One location led to another: G9 in Karachi, then F10 in Islamabad. F10 was peak. But lockdown arrived, and without backup capital to carry rent through closure, they lost the lease.

There was confusion after. Another Syrian who had worked with them opened a competing location under a similar name. Muzamil nods with understanding. “It’s a little bit disappointing when you’ve worked so hard on something and then something like this happens,” he says. But the reframe matters. The recipes, the management, the vision belong to Haitham and Hussam. A location is temporary. They’re opening again in F7 Markaz, planning their first real sitting area, moving from fast food into full experience.

Syria Before The War

Then Muzamil turns inward. He asks about home before everything fell. The answer startles.

“Heaven on earth. Seriously, if the war didn’t happen in Syria, I don’t think I would be leaving. Man, we were living a simple life. Everything is available. Everything. Fruits, veggies, all kinds of food, restaurants high end low end, entertainment, culture, safe. I don’t know if there is any other country which was that stable,” one guest says.

It wasn’t isolationism. Neighbor countries sent their citizens to Damascus monthly to shop and save money. Daraa, where the guest grew up, was the farming heartland. Syria was an integrated economy. Then it shattered.

When Peace Broke

The narrative sold in the West is clean: rebels rose against a dictator. The story on the ground is messier. An officer in Daraa did something terrible. The people demanded punishment. “Any sane government would have just did that,” the guest says. But the regime refused. Instead, the president went on TV and called the protesters traitors.

“It looked on purpose. It was like very well engineered, very very well. It was planned in a way that no one can understand what’s happening. Suddenly everything is just falling apart,” the guest explains. Within months, the conflict metastasized. Foreign armies entered. ISIS emerged. Each power backed its own proxy, and the Syrian people became collateral.

“People are suffering a lot. The war have ended, everyone took his share of land, resources, whatever. Now the people are suffering. We are talking about water, food, medicines. Suddenly it’s not available in Syria,” the guest recounts.

The Colonial Architecture

Muzamil presses on the deeper issue. How does the Middle East ever stabilize when external powers keep intervening?

The guest traces it back to empire. After the Ottoman collapse, European powers colonized the region, then hastily drew borders and left. “They decided we’re leaving. This is a very stupid move. We should leave. Give them the illusion of independence. Randomly cut lines and give people independence. Get the borders. Get rents from those people,” he says.

The result: modern Syrians would prefer European rule to their own governments. It feels like slavery. And slavery is what it is.

Can We Rise Again

Turkey’s independence under Erdogan offers a glimpse of what’s possible. But Haitham and Hussam are skeptical of nostalgia. A unified Muslim empire sounds noble until you remember that regional powers exploited their peripheries just as colonizers did.

The real path starts smaller. Muzamil listens as the guests outline a philosophy that echoes through everything: “Start with yourself, build yourself. Build the power, build the glory, reform the lost glory. If you started from yourself, change yourself to be a good human. You will be good for your neighbors. Your neighbors will spread this goodness.”

It’s bottom-up. It’s patient. It’s the only way Haitham and Hussam rebuilt their lives in Islamabad.