{"id":6945,"date":"2026-05-29T14:35:43","date_gmt":"2026-05-29T14:35:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/2026\/05\/29\/following-syrias-broken-tracks-from-baniyas-to-aleppo\/"},"modified":"2026-05-29T14:35:43","modified_gmt":"2026-05-29T14:35:43","slug":"following-syrias-broken-tracks-from-baniyas-to-aleppo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/2026\/05\/29\/following-syrias-broken-tracks-from-baniyas-to-aleppo\/","title":{"rendered":"Following Syria\u2019s broken tracks from Baniyas to Aleppo"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Fuel is unloaded from a Syrian Railways freight train at the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n

Fuel is unloaded from a Syrian Railways freight train at the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

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Baniyas, Syria<\/strong> \u2014 On a sunny February morning, a long screech of locomotive brakes marks the start of the day at Baniyas Refinery, Syria\u2019s largest oil-refining plant. It is one of the last functioning arteries of the country\u2019s fuel network.<\/p>\n

Men in helmets stand on a platform above the train, filling tanker cars with fuel as supervisors from the Syrian Petroleum Company look on – both the refinery staff and the rail workers are vital for keeping post-war Syria powered.<\/p>\n

Baniyas, a coastal city of 40,000 on Syria\u2019s Mediterranean shore near the port cities of Tartous and Latakia, is one of the country\u2019s main logistical hubs.<\/p>\n

Hussam Hassan, head of train-filling operations for the past three years, has worked at the refinery since 2002. Now in his forties, Hassan has witnessed the collapse of his workplace both during the Syrian civil war, which started in 2011, and its renaissance in December 2024, after the fall of Bashar al-Assad.<\/p>\n

\u201cSince the regime fell, activity has really picked up, increasing train frequencies,\u201d he says. \u201cOn good days, two or three trains exit the refinery after being filled and head towards Homs or Aleppo.\u201d<\/p>\n

He explains how important their work is.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor workers here, the job is not just routine; it is an essential step to keeping the country supplied with energy. Without these cargoes, it would be much more difficult to supply power plants across the country, as everything would be done by truck.\u201d<\/p>\n

Much of the system no longer functions as it once did. Vegetation creeps over tracks, and old passenger wagons sit rusting. Even the rusty orange tankers being filled look outdated.<\/p>\n

None of this will stop today\u2019s convoy, destined for the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant, 20km east of the city. The load consists of a 170-meter-long caravan of 12 tanker-wagons carrying 5,000 tonnes of much-needed fuel oil, with one blue locomotive pulling it all.<\/p>\n

Hassan is not concerned by the train\u2019s fate once it leaves the refinery, and he has never been on the journey himself.<\/p>\n

When asked how long it will take, he points to estimates: \u201c15 to 35 hours\u201d.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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At the Baniyas Refinery, tanker wagons of the SRC freight train are being filled with 1,300 tonnes of fuel destined for the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant on February 3, 2026 [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n

At the Baniyas Refinery, tanker wagons of the SRC freight train are being filled with 1,300 tonnes of fuel destined for the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant on February 3, 2026 [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

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Back to the railway \u2018Stone Age\u2019<\/h3>\n

Nidal Abdulkader, director of Syrian Railways (SRC) operations in the Tartous governorate, says the journey will be \u201cgruelling\u201d.<\/p>\n

Abdulkader, 49, was a train driver between 2000 and 2011. During the civil war, he was exiled in the north, where he organised the shipment of wheat from Turkiye to the enclave of Idlib.<\/p>\n

When he started his new job last year, he was appalled by the decay of Syria\u2019s rail system.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe war severely damaged the national network, and many sections were completely destroyed by attacks,\u201d he says. \u201cSome portions of the tracks were even looted as people sold stolen iron on the black market, including Assad militias.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before the war, a direct line connected the coast to Aleppo, crossing the mountains of Jebel Ansarieh and stretching along the Syrian coastline. That no longer exists; the tracks literally vanished. Now the journey requires a long detour through the south to bypass the mountains.<\/p>\n

Seated in his large but dated office overlooking Tartous station, Abdulkader fondly recalls when \u201cpassenger trains linked major cities in just a few hours – you could even go as far as Deir Ezzor and Qamishli\u201d, two cities along the border with Iraq. Behind him, old maps of a network covering the whole country hang on the walls, crude reminders of the sector\u2019s lost vitality.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe problem isn\u2019t only the tracks; good equipment is also lacking,\u201d he says, noting that the locomotives date back to the 1970s, and their engines have not been updated since the early 2000s. As for the oil tankers, they have leaks.<\/p>\n

Everything needs \u201cconstant care\u201d, he adds.<\/p>\n

Abdulkader explains why only freight trains still run.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo one is interested in hopping on a train if we can\u2019t predict its arrival time,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt will take time to catch up\u201d, he admits with a smile, but he is determined to overcome these difficulties one by one.”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Nidal Abdulkader, head of the Syrian General Railway Corporation’s railway network in the Tartous governorate, stands outside the Tartous station [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n

Nidal Abdulkader, head of the Syrian General Railway Corporation’s railway network in the Tartous governorate, stands outside the Tartous station [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

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Leaving Baniyas<\/h3>\n

By noon, the tankers are full, and the train is ready to depart. After weighing the wagons one by one, the shipment is handed off to the crew of locomotive number 708. The loco cab is the only place available to sit on the train.<\/p>\n

Crammed inside, the three-man crew share just a few square metres of space. The steady rhythm of the rails and the low hum of the engine accompany their conversation.<\/p>\n

Like all the locomotives still operating, 708 \u00a0was built in the Soviet Union and dates back to the 1970s. Everything, from the dashboard to the stained windows, is from another era, and the largely metal interior offers little comfort.<\/p>\n

A small circular stove allows the crew to keep cups of tea and traditional mate coming, helping them stay alert. The atmosphere is relaxed, and a small speaker plays the classics of Lebanese singer Fairuz.<\/p>\n

At the controls is driver Abu Mahmoud. He will lead the first leg of the journey. He and the train chief, Hussein, are both over 50 and have spent their entire lives working for the SRC. Abu Mahmoud\u2019s assistant, Mohammed, is a newcomer by comparison. At 37, he stands out, wearing a turtleneck sweater and well-polished boots. He is from a small village between Homs and Tartous and spent eight years in the army up to 2018.<\/p>\n

He explains why he joined the army.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt the time, the regime told young people on the coast: \u2018You have no choice, there\u2019s only the sea behind you. It\u2019s either the army or death\u2019,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s why I enlisted, and also to earn a salary,\u201d he adds.<\/p>\n

After military service, he joined the SRC.<\/p>\n

\u201cI would not have opposed staying longer, but after eight years, you were usually demobilised,\u201d he explains.
All three men are from the coastal region, which is predominantly Alawite. They admit to having felt apprehensive about the new government, particularly after the March 2025 killings targeting the Alawite community. Syria\u2019s new leader, Ahmed al-Sharaa, is Sunni.<\/p>\n

But Mohammed says, \u201cOur mission is still the same, and we continue accomplishing it regardless.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPeople need to get used to change; it will inevitably take time to trust politicians again,\u201d he adds.<\/p>\n

Hussein and Abu Mahmoud nod, and through the window, a large statue of Hafez al-Assad lying on its side comes into view.<\/p>\n

Despite their fears, they also see the train as a way of overcoming social divides.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am an Alawite, I could choose to sit at home and do nothing all day because I am scared, but I\u2019d miss the locomotive, not making myself useful and enjoying the landscape,\u201d says Hussein.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Mohammad, the assistant to train driver Abu Mahmoud, waits for departure from Tartous Station in Baniyas [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n

Mohammad, the assistant to train driver Abu Mahmoud, waits for departure from Tartous Station in Baniyas [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

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A fatal lack of signalling<\/span><\/p>\n

As the train approaches stations along the route, Hussein calls their staff with his cellphone. One employee then stands at the platform\u2019s edge and hands over handwritten instructions to the locomotive driver as it passes.<\/p>\n

Familiar with the process, Abu Mahmoud barely slows down, nonchalantly extending his arm through the window to grab the paper.<\/p>\n

\u201cThese papers allow crews to receive the latest information on the state of the network,\u201d he says. \u201cThey will, for example, give us an indication of a portion of the tracks where we must slow down, or if there is a problem on the road.\u201d<\/p>\n

This system makes up for the lack of electronic signalling.<\/p>\n

\u201cEverything is done manually,\u201d Abdulkader explained the day before.<\/p>\n

Before the war, everything was automated, but electrical installations have fallen into disrepair, and resources are too scarce to repair them.<\/p>\n

The same is true with level crossings. Employees operate them manually, and are responsible for stopping motorists who sometimes cross the tracks unpredictably.<\/p>\n

Past Tartous, the train heads away from the coast, continuing towards Homs. On the right, the snow-capped peaks of Mount Lebanon come into view.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, Abu Mahmoud frantically sounds the locomotive\u2019s horn, swearing and shattering the calm inside the cabin, which is bathed in the day\u2019s last rays of sunlight.<\/p>\n

Hussein and Mohammed grab the walls, bracing themselves.<\/p>\n

Seconds later, the train slams into a vehicle that had ventured onto the tracks, resulting in a violent crash of crumpled metal. Despite hitting the brakes, the train, moving at 60 km\/h and with its heavy cargo, could not stop in time.<\/p>\n

The car is wedged at the front of the locomotive. Its sole occupant, an old man, lies motionless at the wheel.<\/p>\n

Hussein and Abu Mahmoud jump down to assess the damage. They are soon joined by locals alerted by the horn sounding repeatedly, and the unusual sight of the train stopped in the countryside.<\/p>\n

Remaining calm, the crew explains what happened to a group of men standing around the locomotive. The priority is to extract the driver as quickly as possible. Together, they smash the car\u2019s windscreen and pull him free. Unresponsive but still alive, he is taken to a nearby hospital for treatment.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a miracle survivor,\u201d Abu Mahmoud whispers.<\/p>\n

As a driver, he has seen these types of accidents many times.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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A car is struck by the train at a crossing in the village of Safsafeh, and locals have come to help [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n

A car is struck by the train at a crossing in the village of Safsafeh, and locals have come to help [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

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Not an isolated case<\/h3>\n

Similar crashes have become almost routine on this line.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s not much we can do,\u201d says Hussein. \u201cIf someone decides to cross when a train is approaching, they\u2019re putting themselves in danger.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere should have been someone manning the crossing,\u201d Mohammed adds.<\/p>\n

The following day, another collision involving a different train occurs on the same stretch. An overcrowded van crossed at the wrong moment, killing 11 people.<\/p>\n

Since the fall of Assad in December 2024, a third of railway employees in the Tartous governorate have been laid off due to budget cuts, further undermining safety for both crews and residents.<\/p>\n

The loco\u2019s brakes were damaged by the crash, and it cannot continue. With his work day over, Mohammed sets off for home nearby, following the tracks and slowly disappearing into the darkness.<\/p>\n

Abu Mahmoud and Hussein will head back towards Tartous by car, less than 50km away. First they must wait at the small station of Semer Yan to hand over their train to a relief crew with a locomotive dispatched from Homs to continue the journey.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Relief train driver Motaz Hassan makes repairs under the locomotive after the crash [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n

Relief train driver Motaz Hassan makes repairs under the locomotive after the crash [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

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The rescue crew<\/h3>\n

Once the oil shipment is handed over, the train journey resumes at around 8:30pm, three hours behind schedule.<\/p>\n

Abu Mahmoud has been replaced by Motaz Hassan, an SRC veteran. At 61, he has been a train driver for 43 years. He only left his job for four years, from 2011 to 2015, at the height of the civil war when trains stopped running.<\/p>\n

At his side are Simon Yacoub, 52, and Ali Khatib, 48, his assistant driver and train chief.<\/p>\n

\u201cOur role? Drinking mate!\u201d they joke as Hassan drives through the pitch-black night, chain-smoking cigarettes.<\/p>\n

In reality, Yacoub acts as a lookout, scanning the tracks for obstacles Hassan might have missed, such as people or cars getting too close to the tracks. Khatib is responsible for the cargo \u2014 he handles the administrative side of the journey.<\/p>\n

Hassan competently leads the way. While passing small towns, well-timed blasts on the horn warn everyone close to the tracks.<\/p>\n

\u201cI could do this route with my eyes closed,\u201d he says with a grin, a mane of white hair floating in the wind, and a face lined by the efforts of his long career.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The Aleppo Thermal Power Plant, located to the east of the city, comes into view from the train [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n

The Aleppo Thermal Power Plant, located to the east of the city, comes into view from the train [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

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The night shift<\/h3>\n

After we reach Homs around midnight, the crew changes again, and the night team takes over. Driver Ahmad Hamami, his assistant Jalal Mahminou, and cargo chief Wassil Bitar all have at least 25 years of experience. They will drive through the night to reach the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant at dawn.<\/p>\n

Inside the cabin, mate, mainly consumed on the coast but less so in northern and eastern regions, has given way to an abundantly sugared tea. The three men are from Aleppo, their accents and drink preferences giving them away.<\/p>\n

In the darkness, the train crosses the Orontes River and skirts Hama before heading north across an arid plain, the monotony of the landscape broken only by the occasional sleepy village.<\/p>\n

Around 4 am, Hamami pulls out a small bag of fries and some slices of bread. It is time for a quick meal. The portable stove is used to warm hastily made sandwiches.<\/p>\n

\u201cOur working conditions are very poor,\u201d Hamami says.<\/p>\n

Of the three, he is the only one sitting comfortably in the driver’s seat.<\/p>\n

Mahminou sits on a broken chair he brought on board, and Bitar has tucked himself near a corner of the loco\u2019s dashboard.<\/p>\n

Bitar complains about the working conditions and pay.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe lack proper breaks,\u201d he says. \u201cOur working days easily exceed 14 hours, half of it at night, and we receive a ridiculously low salary compared to our efforts and the importance of our mission.\u201d<\/p>\n

SRC employees earn $100 a month, with crews receiving about $8 extra per day spent on the train. Given the low frequency of trains and the hardships, they never do more than three journeys per week.<\/p>\n

Their jobs are dangerous, owing to the poor quality of the tracks and the high risk of accidents, not to mention the extreme weather conditions endured during long winter and summer journeys in old locomotives that cannot protect them from the cold or heat. These difficulties are compounded by the health care system crippled by the war.<\/p>\n

Have they ever thought about organising themselves or going on strike?<\/p>\n

All three laugh at this idea.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy goal is to be part of the solution, not to create more chaos,\u201d says Hamami.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Ahmed Hamami, driver of the third crew, contemplates the rising sun as the fuel is unloaded at the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n

Ahmed Hamami, driver of the third crew, contemplates the rising sun as the fuel is unloaded at the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera]<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

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Moving forward nonetheless<\/h3>\n

At dawn, after a night on the move, the chimneys of their destination come into view. Hundreds of electric poles surround Syria\u2019s largest power station, making it look like a forest rising out of the desert.<\/p>\n

The power plant remains the main electricity provider for Aleppo, even though those who can afford them have invested in solar panels. The fuel brought by the train will soon be unloaded and burned, with the released energy producing electricity.<\/p>\n

In the final kilometers before arrival, a sense of duty fulfilled is evident on the team\u2019s faces. Bitar allows himself a brief nap as sunlight fills the cabin, and Hamami looks out the window, admiring the scenery and the citadel of Aleppo in the distance.<\/p>\n

Once the tankers are emptied, the train heads back towards Aleppo, just 30 minutes away, for a well-earned rest.<\/p>\n

At around 8:30am, the train pulls into Aleppo. Just before reaching the city\u2019s central station, Hamami, Mahminou and Bitar watch as commuters and motorists make their way to work.<\/p>\n

The crowds, though imposing, cross densely populated areas in near indifference to the train. Only a few children wave as the locomotive passes, and Mahminou answers with a cheerful blast of the horn.<\/p>\n

Almost 24 hours after leaving Baniyas, the journey ends. For some of the rail workers encountered along the way, the next journey has already begun, or soon will. For many, it is a cycle defined less by distance than by endurance.<\/p>\n

\u201cDespite the difficulties, all these years I\u2019ve been working for my country, I\u2019ve never thought of quitting,\u201d Hamami says.<\/p>\n

Speaking for his colleagues across the country, he suggests what keeps them going.<\/p>\n

\u201cSyria needs us to recover, and we need it as well,\u201d he says. \u201cFrom our position, every town or village we pass through that has electricity makes us proud, because we know it is partly thanks to our sacrifices.\u201d<\/p>\n

Invisible to most, Hamami and his colleagues keep the country moving \u2014 as essential cogs in a Syria trying to rebuild itself.<\/p>\n

*The crew on the first leg asked that Al Jazeera not use their surnames.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Fuel is unloaded from a Syrian Railways freight train at the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera] Fuel is unloaded from a Syrian Railways freight train at the Aleppo Thermal Power Plant [Charles Cuau\/Al Jazeera] Baniyas, Syria \u2014 On a sunny February morning, a long screech of locomotive brakes marks the start of the … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6946,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6945","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-travel"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6945","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6945"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6945\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6946"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6945"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6945"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pronews.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6945"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}