Over 80 Killed and 22 Houses Burnt Down in a Rural Village in Lattakia
On March 16 when relief teams entered the village of Ain Al-Arous in the Lattakia countryside, the smell of fires still lingered in the air. Some houses were charred, and the town was almost deserted. As part of the suppression of the rebellion that occurred along the Syrian coast, on March 7, armed groups and militias affiliated with the Ministry of Defence, dominated by Hayat Tahrir Al-Sham (HTS), stormed the village alongside heavy gunfire. The Syria Report was unable to identify the names of the militias involved in the assault, but the dialects heard by residents confirmed that most of the attackers were Syrians, with a limited presence of foreign fighters among them.
Ain Al-Arous, located on the eastern edge of the Qardaha area, is a small rural settlement that had stayed away from the noise of the frontlines throughout the years of war. The village lies about 15 kilometres from the entrance to the city of Lattakia, and due to its strategic location on the road linking Qardaha and the international highway, it forms a vital connection point between the coastal and inland regions.
Ain al-Arous’residents depend on farming, livestock breeding, and traditional crafts. Its houses are scattered along both sides of the road, surrounded by fertile agricultural lands planted with various seasonal crops. Around 1,500 people live there, their daily lives tied to the cycles of the land and seasons. Historically, Ain Al-Arous has a Turkmen presence, whose families contributed to the social and cultural fabric of the region.
Inflicting collective harm
As soon as the incursion began, with the first bursts of gunfire at the village entrances, residents fled to nearby farmlands and forests or to the nearby Russian base in Hmeimim. The few who were unable to escape faced field executions, which claimed the lives of around 80 people whose bodies were found in various locations in and around the village, with many still missing.
The attack was not random; it appeared more like a systematic operation intended to cause collective harm. Nothing in the chain of events indicates that there were any wanted individuals in the village – rather, it seemed an act of revenge, the reasons for which remain unclear. Twenty-two homes were set on fire and burned down, as well as some agricultural lands, warehouses, and shops that were also set ablaze.
All the houses -those that were burned and those that remained intact – were looted. The shops were completely ransacked, then set on fire. In some cases, stolen agricultural vehicles were used to transport the loot from the shops out of the village. Notably, many of the items and tools belonging to the rural residents had little to no utility value except to their owners – they were old and worn – yet they were looted or vandalised. In reality, the factions did not need everything that was stolen. This is reminiscent of practices previously employed by regime forces against opposition Sunni towns and cities.
On the eastern side of the village, three brothers had adjacent homes on their farmland. When they heard the gunfire, they abandoned everything and fled with their children. When they returned, they found nothing but ashes. Two houses were completely burned, and the third was entirely looted. Today, all members of the family live in the only house that survived the flames.
This scene was repeated in many homes. Entire families moved in with neighbours or relatives, with no means to repair what was destroyed or to start anew. The village has turned into a collection of burnt homes and displaced people. “This village will never rise again,” a resident told The Syria Report.
The violations did not stop at looting and burning. Several residents spoke of cases of enforced disappearance. One woman recounted how armed men stormed her home and dragged her husband outside in front of their four children. She has not seen him since. He is presumed dead, like other missing persons whose bodies have started to appear in small mass graves near neighbouring agricultural villages.
The fear did not dissipate with the withdrawal of the armed factions. Instead, it lingered like a shadow over the area, preventing people from returning to their lands, retrieving their belongings, or searching for their personal documents. Even walking along the roads became a risk, amid reports of snipers targeting anyone who dares to stray from the vicinity of the houses.
A few days after the incursions, when the mobile clinic arrived with the relief team most residents did not dare venture out to the main road to receive treatment. The fear of strangers remained dominant, and suspicion towards any new face only increased – even if they brought medicine or food parcels.
Children have not recovered from the trauma. Panic attacks and hysterical crying episodes recur whenever a stranger approaches the edges of the homes. Those who remain suffer from a total electricity outage lasting over a week, relying on old well water, amid the complete absence of any response from official institutions or local authorities.
Despite the efforts of volunteer groups to reach the village, the scale of the tragedy far exceeds their capabilities. The problem is no longer just about providing bread or medicine, but about the loss of the basic necessities of life. Without urgent psychological support, there will be no ability to remain resilient or to recover.
What happened in this village is not an isolated incident, but a recurring pattern, silently unfolding in other rural villages along the coast, where systematic violations are committed against the population without accountability and without any real recognition of what is happening.
