“A gun wasn't for me, so it became a camera”
Artino Van Damas was on the front lines when the war broke out in Syria. You can take that literally: he was on the front lines against the Assad regime that destroyed his city of Damascus. No gun as a weapon, but his camera. “What kept me going? Showing the world what was really going on.”
Aug 29 2023
4 minutes
When the revolution against the Assad regime broke out in 2011, the young Syrian Artino did not hesitate to do his part. “The government violence escalated rapidly: first they banned us from the streets, a few months later they deployed tanks and the air force and openly shot at protesters. I could not sit still. Together with other young activists, I organized protests and helped protesters who were displaced by the army.”
Bloody repression
“I wanted to do more, but I am not a medical doctor, and holding a gun or using it against someone is against my principles. So I started documenting what was happening. The regime controlled all the Syrian media. So the outside world did not realize how bloody the army’s repression was. With my photos, I showed the reality to media platforms.” But that was not without risk: Artino was arrested twice for his involvement in the anti-regime movement. “I was denounced by a friend at university. It became increasingly dangerous to make my voice heard.”
Staying hopeful
Artino felt the regime's breath on his neck getting hotter and hotter, and fled to Lebanon. "I only stayed there for two months. I felt that I had to go back, that I had to help my people. On the way back I met a lot of special people, including a famous Serbian war photographer.
He asked me to be his fixer in the region and before I knew it, my pictures were next to his in The New York Times. We went with the deserters, the Free Syrian Army, to the front line. I knew very well that I might not return. But I kept going, to show what those in power were doing.”
Artino survived sniper fire, airstrikes, and even one of the deadliest chemical attacks in history. “I was seriously wounded three times. But I never hesitated to throw my camera into the ring. One time my right hand was paralyzed. I couldn’t take pictures anymore. It was the most depressing time of my life. So I taught myself to use my camera with my left hand. Taking pictures was the reason to get out of bed, to stay hopeful.”
I knew all too well that I might not return from the front line.
Metalhead in times of war
In times of war, it is more important than ever to have a network, Artino believes. “Especially when Eastern Ghouta, a region near Damascus, was under siege and no one could get in or out, my friends were vital. When I was injured, they provided a wheelchair. That way I could continue taking photos of the front line, but also of ordinary people on the street. Not everyone realizes that people in a war situation are just like everyone else: they sing, they want to call their loved ones, they have interests. I am still as much of a metalhead as I was when I lived in Syria. I also wanted to show that side of people with my photography.”
Remote activist
But Artino's urge to take action did not stop at photography. As part of the United Relief Office, he helped ensure that the besieged population could survive while the Assad regime cut them off from water, electricity and food. Since his arrival in Belgium, he has continued to work for the Syrian people. For example, he worked for The Syria Campaign for more than four years, an organization that amplifies the voices of the Syrian community and advocates for a free, safe and democratic future. Now, as a staff member of the NGO Women Now, he is committed to the often forgotten interests of women in Syria. "We try to give women the power to develop themselves and to stand up for their specific needs. During the earthquake, baby milk and sanitary towels were often forgotten by other aid organizations." Also at 11.11.11 Artino fights every day for the rights of the often forgotten Syrians.
When I lay wounded in bed, I was afraid of missing the liberation.
Artino had to leave Syria because his injuries could no longer be treated there. “I genuinely felt sorry that I could not stay in Damascus. When I was in Lebanon for a while or was lying wounded at home, I was already afraid that I would not be able to experience the liberation of the regime. But now we are more than ten years later, I am in Belgium, and the situation has still not been resolved. I hope to show with my story that refugees are just people with fears, traumas, but also passions and desires for the future.”
