Syria in revolt on Beirut stage

Beirut: The Syrian playwright Mohammad Al Attar considers the common wisdom about the uprising in his country — “the fear is gone” — somewhat overstated.

The fear endures, but the type that kept Syrians cowed into silence for decades has morphed into something different, he said in a Beirut cafe. “Fear is a human instinct, but the fear is no longer preventing people from doing things,” he said.

That is one theme he explores in his play about the uprising, Could You Please Look Into the Camera, which was staged last month at the Sunflower Theatre in Beirut.

It was a remarkable event for several reasons: There was only one performance. It aired its accusations of torture and other abuse by President Bashar Al Assad’s government in Beirut, where a small clandestine community of Syrian activists lives in dread of the long arm of his secret police. A chunk of the audience came from Damascus.

Many playgoers emerged electrified by the experience of seeing the uprising examined publicly in a work of art. “It was cathartic because it was no longer kept inside everybody, or a whispered conversation,” said one woman, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because she was going back to Damascus.

“I could imagine other people were having the same conversation, but I had no real idea — everyone is keeping their circles tighter because everyone is afraid.”

The Syrian government has struggled to give the impression that life in Damascus remains serenely unaffected by the upheaval throughout much of the country. “You turn on state TV and it just talks about the issue of Palestine constantly, or that normalcy is being undermined by outside actors,” the woman said.

“We are all bit players in the government’s facade.”

The play focuses on the lives of four young Damascenes. Noura, a divorced woman whose well-to-do family has long flourished because of its government connections, decides that her part in the uprising will be filming the testimony of tortured activists.

Her brother, Gassan, a prosperous lawyer like their father, considers the project madness. Zeid and Farah are the two activists participating in her film.

The play’s director, Omar Abusaada, staged a complicated piece that included video testimonials from other activist characters. They were projected onto the walls of the set, with an empty former law office on one side and a small jail cell on the other.

Al Attar, a handsome, unshaven 31-year-old with a black ponytail, said the play started as verbatim testimonials drawn from about 10 people who had been jailed. “I was listening to their stories, and I was obsessed by them,” he said.

But as a Damascus native with a theater degree from England, he let his instincts to produce a drama rather than a documentary take over. He created the conflict between the two siblings as Noura edges away from her family, a difficult step in the Arab world, to find a role in the opposition.

“No more fooling around anymore; the whole country is sitting on a boiling volcano,” Gassan barks at Noura at one point.

“Believe me, if they learn about this project it won’t go away peacefully. Neither me nor Father can do anything then.”

Noura shoots back a little later in the argument: “This is what we’ve always been good at all our lives. As long as our business is doing well, nothing should bother us, not even for a moment. Nothing can affect our lives.”

Gassan warns that the events have gone beyond that. “I’m talking about issues bigger than me, you and the family,” he says.-- NYT