The Wall Will Fall

24th June 2016

Vanessa Beeley
21st Century Wire

Who are the White Helmets? This is a question that everyone should be asking themselves.

A hideous murder of a rising star in UK politics,Jo Cox MP, has just sent shock waves across the world. Within hours of her death,a special fundwas established in her name to raise money for 3 causes. One of those causes is the Syrian White Helmets.

Are we seeing a cynical and obscene exploitation of Jo Cox’s murder to revive the flagging credibility of a US State Department & UK Foreign Office asset on the ground in Syria, created and sustained as first responders for the US and NATO Al Nusra/Al Qaeda forces?

white helmet infographic (2)
FOLLOW THE MONEY: The White Helmets are just one component of the new NGO Complex.

If this is the case, and I fear it is, the depravity of our…

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From Gosford Anglican Church’s FB page

This morning I arrived at the Gosford Anglican Church to be greeted by the above sign.  With the sign alone we know that Father Rod is no ordinary Pastor.

I had a meeting with Fr. Rod to gift his church, in my local shire, a beautifully crocheted fish shaped doily I purchased last month when in Ma’aloula, Syria.  Souveniers are sold to raise money to rebuild and restore the ancient township.  When I saw the doily I thought; who better to give this to than Fr. Rod as part of a ‘hands across the water’ gesture of peace.  I’d attended an interfaith service at the church some time ago and it took me back to Syria and her inclusiveness.  I took this opportunity to fill Fr. Rod in on a quick history of Ma’loula and the Syrian crisis in general.  As one would imagine by Fr. Rod’s signs, he has an open mind and listened to my yarns with great interest and admitted he wasn’t fully cognizant of the situation in Syria.  So, deep breath, might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb …


Doily for the Gosford Anglican Church

Although my story goes against the MSM western narrative that most Australians are brainwashed with, I never once saw his eyes glaze over with that; ‘oh my, I got me a live one here’, look.  His interest was genuine, so I went for it … the full kit and caboodle, 100 odd countries participating in the destruction of Syria, the arming, training and funding by the West and their Gulf allies the love of the Syrian people for their President and their army.  I stressed the illegal presence of Australian Forces.

Fr. Rod told me he had been invited to Syria by Syria’s great friend Fr. Dave and that he was going to do some research on Ma’aloula.  I’m hoping that our meeting has whetted his appetite to learn more and if he is invited again will jump at the opportunity to take some Australians on a pilgrimage to Ma’aloula and help in the restoration.


From the gift shop Ma’aloula

My friend, Ma’aloula oracle Abdo Haddad runs a foundation to raise funds to rebuild Ma’aloula.  You can donate towards the restoration and building of homes ($5,000 to build a home) or to purchase buses for school transportation or rain boots for children in the area.  “Surrounding villages’ children will benefit, although their father have most probably attacked us in Ma’aloula.  This is our message for peace and life.” – Abdo Haddad.  If you’d like to donate, 100% of your money will go directly to help, please contact me here for  further information regarding Ma’aloula and how you go about donating.

Ma’aloula before the crisis

Read more:

The Western media names Dara’a as the birth place of the revolution, where Syrian soldiers and police fired on and killed ‘peaceful’ demonstrators.  This myth remains today, 5 years on.

While in Damascus we had the opportunity to interview a young soldier who was in Dara’a at the beginning of the so called ‘peaceful protests’ in Syria.  This is his account. ~ Gail

I wanted to know what was your first experience on that first day? 

Soldier:  I will tell you how we knew what was going on.  We were at the headquarters in Damascus, sitting, not knowing that something is going on in the country.  And that was 15 of March, 2011.  And we were watching TV and seeing what was happening in Egypt and Tunisia and other countries and we were saying that couldn’t happen to us, that would not happen to our country.  So in March 15, I was packing my bags to travel from Damascus to my home town to celebrate Mother’s Day, which is March 21st, in Syria.  So, on March 15, I asked for my day off; vacation.  And all people, all soldiers who asked for their vacation they came declined.  And they gathered us on that day and we didn’t know what happened.  They said who are married stand here, who are single stand here.  So, single ones were 200 and they told us to wear full uniform and they gave us batons.  And up to that moment we didn’t know what was happening.


Batons?  No ammunition?

Soldier:  No, no, not even a personal weapon

No side arms?

Context from our translator:  No, nothing … I saw that with my own eyes, in Latakia, I saw it …

So this like everything … it was just the pretext used, it wasn’t true.  Just to make people go out in the streets.  You have to understand something here, in areas like Dara’a, Deir Ezzor, Qamishli and Raqqa, they are tribesmen.  So it’s enough for me to go, if you are one of the tribesmen, it’s enough to go there and shout haarr! and people will go helping you without knowing what’s the reason, whether you are wrong of right, they will go defend you because you are one of their tribe.  They don’t use their mind and this is true, this is in the case everywhere, they call it fahdah, it means help, just shout help and everyone will go after you, they wouldn’t ask you what happened, they wouldn’t ask, because they don’t think, they just have to defend their tribes.  Oh my god that’s so … stupid, they just defend their tribes.  So that’s what happened in Dara’a.  So, they told them to shoot them, that they attacked your children, they took off their fingers and it didn’t happen as they said.

Soldier:  So, we go that Friday 1.00pm after they finished the prayers.  We were surprised that they didn’t come from the Mosque only, they came from other neighbourhoods and they were surrounding us.  They took over the house rooves, any street entrance, everything.  And they started shouting Allah Akbar!  So, they surrounded us and they started throwing molotov cocktails and rocks on us from every corner, we were surprised.  We only had the Fire Engine, the hose water, and the Civil Police formed the first line having riot shields and batons.  We were surprised to hear the sound of machine guns not just Kalashnikovs, AKs or something like this, but things that shoot a lot of bullets and all my friends were falling around me.  Lots of people were injured and ambulances were not enough to take them to the hospitals, they ran out of ambulances to take them to the hospital.

Did you see who … where the bullets were coming from?

Soldier:  It was coming … because Dara’a town there is, part of it is a bit higher than others.  We were in he lower part, the shooting was coming from up.  Plus some of the demonstrators were holding guns and they were using their pistols.  The numbers started to grow bigger and bigger and the shooting started becoming more and more and it wasn’t possible for us to locate the snipers because of what they were throwing at us, so we had to run.  And all this happened and we didn’t have a clash, a face to face clash.  All of this. There wasn’t a face to face clash.

How did you feel at the moment?

Soldier:  Unbelievable, I didn’t expect to go through this.  We had a permission contrary to what happened, we didn’t expect, we didn’t know they would be shooting at us, killing our friends, it was unbelievable.

They were more organised than expected?

Soldier:  Yes, they were organised like, each group do this work and this work.  So, they knew what they were doing.

Were there foreigners in that early time?

Soldier:  I don’t know, we didn’t see them face to face.  My best friend was shot, so I felt anger and sadness.  I felt anger because we were ambushed in this way and all we had was batons, we couldn’t defend ourselves.  We had to run, they were shooting us like birds.  And the demonstrators blocked all the entrances leading to us, so no ambulances was able to reach us whatsoever, at that point.  I carried my best friend and what matters for us now is to protect him and protect ourselves until we get to safety.  While we were running, we were seeing our friends the civil police, how they were being killed in front of us, or shot at.

What number were the demonstrators?

Soldier:  Thousands, you cannot count them.  They just shouted for help in all the neighbourhoods of Dara’a and everybody came.  So, we needed to retreat because it’s our first time of being attacked like this and we don’t know the city, we don’t know where to go.  We were surrounded by everyone by then, we didn’t know what was happening.  We didn’t know the streets, we didn’t know anything.  We start running and because the heavy shooting there were still soldiers being shot.  At that point we were running for our lives.  Run for your lives!

And on our way running in the street, they started throwing at us pieces of concrete and planters, hot water, anything they can throw at us, they were throwing everything at us.  Women and men.  Somehow we found our way to our headquarters, we reached it.  And we were surprised that when we reached there they came and surrounded us at the headquarters.  They were shouting Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar and freedom, freedom and stuff like that.  They told us to form a line of defence inside the headquarters so not anyone can jump on over the walls.  At the headquarters we had a big flag, about 4 metres, they wanted to burn it down.  That flag was on a big iron stand, so the demonstrators bought ropes and tied it up to the big iron pole, brought in a big truck and pulled it down and burned it.  And they started throwing molotov cocktails and we weren’t given orders to … to, just a line of defence.

Were there weapons at headquarters available?

When this all happened, President’s orders; all Police Stations were to lock or take out all the Kalashnikovs that the personal have, take it out, just batons.  Now, I’m convinced that the leadership knew of what was being planned for the country, they knew and that’s why they did that.  At the beginning we hated that but now I’m convinced they knew.  So after all what happened, after the attack and them destroying us, the leadership kept telling us, just have patience, just have patience.

OK, just go back to the police station, you’re surrounded, no weapons …

The demonstrators were shouting at us, ‘if you are brave men, come out … come out’.  We were not allowed to go out, we stayed inside the headquarters.  We stayed surrounded for a couple of hours and then they went out to their houses.  Then we sat there feeling very sad and very shocked … what happened?  What just happened today?

You have wounded, there are no doctors right?

The first day, the first day the number of martyrs were 15.  The wounded we couldn’t count them, we couldn’t count the wounded … from the first strike.  We start discussing what happened and asking for armaments, they didn’t give us.  And they took all the TVs, they didn’t show us what was going on, we didn’t know what was going on.  We didn’t hear anything, no TVs, no radios … nothing.  Nothing.  We didn’t know what was going on.  So, we stayed inside the headquarters for the next week … doing nothing; just waiting.

The next Friday the same thing, batons and they attacked us in the same manner.  Here some of us refused to go out, they refused, they said you are sending us to our death.  We’re not going so they were imprisoned and they took all those that wouldn’t go they took them back to Damascus to the prison.  Next Friday the same thing happened, we run away.  This Friday we started calling our families to say goodbye to them, farewell to them.  I called my mum and said I’m not coming back.  Forgive me, pray for me, I’m not coming back.  We didn’t know if we’d come back alive or not, no weapons, we weren’t given any weapons whatsoever, no bullets, just batons.

At this point had your mother heard anything?

My mother had a heart attack because it was bad and she was watching the news.  They saw on the media like al Jazeera telling all the lies …

We stayed there for a full month, four Fridays.  We go out and those who come alive, we say thank god we are alive and say farewell to the martyrs.  And then here all the demonstrators started attacking all the government buildings, any government buildings and destroy them.  But after we saw the amount of weapons with them we weren’t allowed to leave the head quarters anymore.  They had started shooting now from headquarters far away and sending mortars.  All in a month …

So when we went back to Damascus after 2 months in Dara’a we started watching internet and news and we were surprised at the amount of lies they were telling.  Then we started to see where they were shooting at us, they were video taping themselves.  Then we started seeing ourselves, how they were videotaping and killing us.  We were just like birds being shot at.

Name of soldier redacted

Updated 28/12/16


This testimony is supported by an April 2011 article by Joshua Landis read more …


Full moon over Umayyad Mosque

I was not looking forward to leaving Syria.  I leave a little more of my heart there every time I visit.  I knew though, that this particular trip would be very taxing.  We were in Latakia and had only had a couple of hours sleep when we where driving through the desert in the wee small hours of the morning.  My leather jacket, which I had offered to Janice in such a cavalier manner earlier, was now tightly wrapped around me.  I was so grateful at this point that she had declined it.  It was freezing, well, it was probably just a bit nippy but I was coming down with a cold and couldn’t get warm.


The ubiquitous fountain

As we came into Damascus, on the morning of the 21st of October, I heard a mortar, I checked my watch, it was 7.45am as we edged close to our hotel they continued, a couple very close indeed.  These were accompanied with a hail of bullets.  I counted 6 mortar blasts before 8.00am … Good morning Damascus!

We entered the Beit al Wali and the staff said; ‘what have you brought with you’.  The mortars continued as bags and taxis were transferred.  I was uneasy leaving my friends in the middle of a mortar attack, not that my presence would change things one way or the other, eventually I was on my way … again.


Damascus train station

We wound through the crowded streets of the Old City, the population having more than trebled during the crisis from IDPs seeking government shelter.  It is the habit of the terrorists to hit Damascus at peak hour, for maximum effect.  Apart from the loud ‘booms’ of mortars people seemed to just be going about an ordinary day.  No one appeared to be hurried or overly excited by the attack.  Mortar attacks are the new ‘normal’ for Damascus.

As we headed out of Damascus travelling to Beirut I knew there would be a very thorough checking of bags and the taxi that was carrying me, because of the attacks.  At each checkpoint I was grateful for the soldiers and the time they took checking travellers.  One knows that the chance of being caught in an attack lessens with each checkpoint.


Ancient caravan trade stop in the Old City

This was not the first attack I had experienced in Damascus, it wasn’t even the first attack of this particular trip.  And as is usual nothing was heard of them in the Western media, nor anything of the kidnappings a few days earlier, which like the mortars, emanate from neighbouring terrorist suburb, Joubar.  The Western press is too caught up in reportage from their favourite terrorists du jour the White Helmets, in Eastern Aleppo.  Or anywhere else they can find to muddy the waters on what is really happening in Syria.


“… and when we die, we die standing like trees.”  Nassif Zeytoun – Haweety


I decided to write my impressions of the Syrian Army, as they are demonised ad nauseam in the Western media.  What one needs to understand is, these men and women are not ‘Assad’s’ troops, they are the sons and daughters of Syria, no horns or tails in sight.  They are ordinary Syrians in an extraordinary battle for their secular Motherland, to maintain her sovereignty and their cultural heritage which dates back millennia.  It’s a battle of biblical proportions to retain Syria in tact, in all her glorious diversity.  We live in a time where lies are taken as fact and those speaking the truth are insulted with ad hominem attacks, but never with real evidence.  Where those who speak for free speech ‘no platform’ those that don’t maintain the narrative.

We are to believe everything the US tell us, without any evidence, we are not to believe Syria or Russia, regardless of indisputable evidence.  This brave army needs the recognition it deserves and a little humanisation in the Western gaze.  One only need read Syrian history to understand Syria will never kneel.  The entire planet should be thankful to these brave troops in their fight against international terrorism, and think long and hard before throwing MSM lies into debates, lives are in the balance.  Vive the Syrian Armed Forces, if there is a God, he is surely on their side.


Our hotel in Latakia

Driving back to our hotel in Latakia, one of a number of regular checkpoints came up and the soldier looked in checking our faces and said; ‘welcome, I hate Obama’, ‘so do we’, I replied, he laughed, waved and waved us on.  On we drove to our hotel, the coalition of the unwilling, Janice a hawk and me a pacifist, somehow we met in the middle in Syria.


   Gifted Carnation

In a village in the mountains of Latakia, where we stopped to eat, that’s an entire epicurean delight story, with a tandoor and family recipes.  Out of the blue a soldier, a fine stamp of a man, gave us two wee crimson carnations, also saying welcome.  A random act of kindness.

Our driver giggling with/at us, as we drove through the desert.  Checking his tyres, at every stop, worried, as it’s not easy to replace them.  So to the cracked windscreen, a gift from a terrorist’s mortar.  The sanctions, you know.  After all he’d seen, his eyes still sparkled when he laughed.  He effortlessly made us all laugh with this quiet charm and humour.  A perfectly odd bunch were we, and we trusted him with our lives.


Ma’aloula, a day trip from Damascus

We sat with soldiers who had helped save Ma’aloula from continued terrorist occupation.  They were not soldiers then, they were men protecting their ancient village, besieged by outsiders and the inevitable traitors who could be bought.  They had one policeman and were raided before the so-called ‘peaceful’ protests had even started.  We were by the church that had been built on a pagan temple, the marble altar remained, with its raised sides to hold the blood of sacrifices, its drain hole filled.  On a balcony we took tea and listened as they told us the stories of Ma’aloula, where Aramaic is still spoken.  After, we were escorted on a walk round the area where great strides had been made rebuilding the damage.  It was breathtaking.

Then there was the checkpoint leaving Ma’aloula, where early into the crisis, soldiers had been martyred at the hands of takfiris.  No way we were going anywhere, regardless of our schedule, without eating small green apples with them.  They were so good, still glistening from being freshly washed for us.


Old stone house with ocean view, Kassab

More soldiers escorted us in Kassab, wow what a place!  Where the mountains meet the Mediterranean.  Before we went sight-seeing we were given a ubiquitous coffee.  Hospitality in Syria is not the sole preserve of the hospitality industry, it permeates Syrian society.  We, in Australia could learn a lot about gracious hospitality from Syria.  What we saw in natural magnificence is hard to describe, such a surprise.  Kassab (meaning apple) is on the border of Turkey, from whence the terrorists came to the village.  It’s basically an Armenian area, catering to tourists in both summer and winter.

I can still see the deep dark eyes across the dining table, of our new friend, as we ate at the Mona Lisa Restaurant in Old Damascus.  His stories were related without ego or bravado, just as a matter of fact as he showed his battle scars.  The following morning I saw his exhausted body sprawled out across a comfy bed, in our friend’s room … out like a light, fully dressed.


The Damascus Sword, Umayyad Square

After a visit to the Opera House in Damascus, we met a wounded soldier in a wheelchair at its gates.  He was happy to speak with us and welcome us to Syria.  The night before there had been an attack at that spot, as is often the case, resulting in death.  Lives shattered like the glass of the ‘Sword’ across the street.

One goes through an awful lot of checkpoints in Syria.  There’s a war of attrition against the Syrian people, the cruel sanctions are just one part of the wearing down of Syrian society.  Still, we were never treated without a welcome nod or wave, often an apology for slowing our travels.  Many … too many were boys, much younger than my own sons and at least one grandson.  They don’t have air conditioning and ice cream machines like US soldiers.  Nights in the desert must be unbearable, it gets so cold and rations are minimal.  The long days in the heat just as bad, enough to make anyone a little cranky, and if they were a little cranky, they didn’t show it.  They don’t transverse Syria in matching Toyota Hiluxes with air con, you’ll see them hitchhiking, in farm trucks and other sundry vehicles.  The terrorists are paid more than the Syrian Army, it’s nice to have friends in high places, especially ones with a seemingly endless supply of weapons.  They also pay the highest price in the crisis, an anomaly in post 9/11 wars, where 90% of casualties are civilians, you can’t compare their record to the US lead ‘War on Terror’.  That’s another great lie: the army is killing their own people, the army is dying to protect their people.  Contrary to what your media tell you the army is predominately Sunni … the sectarian narrative doesn’t pass muster either.  Women often travel to the front lines to feed their troops, they are grateful of their presence, praying mothers elsewhere do the same for their sons and daughters.  Our media never allows this to be known.

These men and women kept us safe, as they do all Syrians, where ever humanly possible.  We, from two aggressor nations, travelled around secure in the fact they were present.  The Australian Forces are in Syria illegally, as are her citizen jihadis who make their way in droves to Syria.  The Syrian Army’s presence made it possible for us to travel to certain areas in relative safety.  Also keeping the people who live in these liberated areas as safe as possible, given the circumstances.  Although the cruel sanctions really bite, life goes on.  I have nothing but respect for the Syrian armed forces, their allies and the people.

I also know the berating I’ll receive, ‘you went to government held areas, AGAIN, you’re bought and paid for’.  It’s all so ridiculous.  Well, yes I went to government held areas, I make no apologies for that, that’s where the majority of the Syrian people are.  The majority of Syrians chose to be where civilisation still exists.  They chose colour, dance, music, smoking nargile and great food, they chose life over Wahhabism, why is that so hard to fathom?  Why are the majority of Syrian voices silenced?  Their Armed Forces defend their right to be free, it’s time to stop calling them Assad’s forces, they’re Syrian soldiers.  This is not about who does or doesn’t support who, it’s about peace and the self-determination of the Syrian people.  All countries that aren’t in Syria to help, need to stop hindering.

“Take me back to Damascus, Syria will be fine again I’m sure of that … “

Just a taste to whet your appetite. Syria is a land of history, beauty, culture and hospitality … and food, wonderful, wonderful food. Syria is a country, not a war … the war came from outside and inflicted this horrendous crime against the innocent Syrian people. #TheSyriaYouNeverSee


The Citadel of Salahadin, 7 km east of Al-Haffah town and 30 km east of the city of Lattakia


Ugarit was an ancient port city, from c. 1450 BC until 1200 BC.


Krak des Chevaliers: damage done by terrorists


Kassab: Armenian Monastery  in northwestern Syria


Beit Al Wali Hotel, Old Damascus oohhh lala, you have to go there one day. It’s all that and more


Ma’aloula: an ancient village 56 km to the northeast of Damascus. Aramaic is still spoken here

G:  Sorry I missed your call.  Hope you are OK

Yeah I am OK

I had friends here from Croatia and Serbia they work independently
Also wanted to show u live situation of the refugees sleeping in parks

The situation is very bad

G: how many people?


Nearly 300

G: R u still hunger striking.

Ended the strike
A few days ago
With no results
Now they are in parks in Belgrade

And the following are pics from hunger strike

Some 8 strikers collapsed

G: does this mean you can’t go forward, you can’t go back


We r stuck in Serbia. Refugees are swelling. The paths are closed
Personally I thought there will be a way out but was dismayed

at the response of American Austrian and hangarian ambassadors

G:  What kind of aid are you receiving?

They told me they cannot help in opening the door or increasing the
number of refugees acceptance

G: I’ve heard Armenia will look after asylum seekers even though
they won’t settle people

Same is the issue here

They seek asylum seekers but no settlement
Serbia is tolerant and a loving country but it lacks the
capacity to deal the crisis successfully
Do u think I should resume my hunger strike in front of
Canadian embassy

I don’t know what to do

G: Are you drinking water?

Yes drinking and now eating

As we ended our hunger strike a few days ago
As the condition of one the protesters was very much serious
He was taken to hospital after that we decided to end the strike

We suffered a lot but achieved no result

G:  I think you need numbers. No point putting your health
in jeopardy unless lots of you do for impact. What media
is there. We hear nothing of this?

Media coverage was satisfactory

From across Europe
And Serbia too
Serbian minister also visited us
They talked to me but none promised anything

I was the spokesman

G: We have a mass diaspora on our hands
and you’re smack bang in the middle of it                                                                          

Neither can go back nor move forward

G: The Australia media only sees ‘evil’, peddles fear

The same is in eu media
The feedback was disappointing and derogatory
Only a few ones activists supported the cause the rests

were spewing hatred

G:  Some French Tunisian runs his truck through a
crowd they bomb Syria … the lunatics have taken
over the asylum. It makes no sense it feeds on
cortisol ‘fight or flight’

The problem is humanity is under threat from a few ones


G: as Syria cleans the takfiris out they spread across border
out of Syria.  They are mad men. Anything could happen

The are succeeding in spreading hatred

G: KSA Madrassa Wahabibis … they are barking mad and blood
thirsty and in Afghanistan, nasty pieces of shit, hope they don’t
get a hold in there but they have been there awhile with CIA

The problem us victims if violence have no place in
the world to get refuge
The problem is victims of violence…

G:  Of course again it is a few white supremacist,                                                       
neo Nazi types that perpetuate the violence on
the other side

Muslim women are scared on transport in Australia
And yes at the same time they are spreading
intolerance here against refugees

There have been more refugee deaths on Manus
Island than resettlement


G:  it’s a hell hole … but Aboriginal children are treated
like adults in custody on the mainland here.  Colonialism
has winners and losers and the white guys always win,
white privilege is a powerful thing

They have always a clever brain
We are victims are British colonialism
No signs of change and development
And divided by Duran line

G: I think there will be a fundamental shift in the
balance in the word

I wish this happens

Name redacted