Jon Lee Anderson
Syria, 2024
Dimensions: 117 mm x 167 mm
It seemed that everyone we met in Sednaya was looking for someone, and many believed in the existence of a so-called “Red prison,” concealed in the ground beneath us. Hundreds of people, those whose relatives had not appeared when the prison gates were opened, had camped out on the prison grounds and were looking everywhere, searching and asking for help, hoping against hope that their relatives were still alive. Some were desperate and exclaimed that if only the entrance to the hidden prison could be found, they would be rescued. My notes on these two pages reflect that terrible moment of doomed hope amongst these people – for there was no underground prison, and for almost all, it was a certainty that their relatives had been killed and secretly buried somewhere.
The last notes are from my conversation with the head of a Turkish rescue team I found supervising a group of men digging fruitlessly in a room with shovels, others gathered around avidly watching, holding up torches to assist their search in Sednaya’s hall of horrors.
Searching for Loved Ones in a Newly Liberated Syrian Prison, The New Yorker, December 11, 2024
