You Don’t Look Syrian!You Don’t Look Syrian!

We Syrians have long known that we can look different from one another. Essentially, this difference is normal to us. For a large portion of the Syrian community that is “white passing”, however, that changes once they’re abroad, not only in the West but even those of us who live in other Arabic-speaking nations. Being told that we look British, German, French, Italian, Balkan, Ukrainian, Russian, even “Israeli” (essentially anything but Syrians), and at times Lebanese (because of perceived sophisticated westernization being associated with whiteness?), these experiences can actually negatively impact our identity.

I lived in the UAE for 16 years, a very nationality-diverse place. As most Syrians, I was brought up and taught to identify as Arab. However, I found myself struggling to find common ground with other Arabs and never understood why I looked different. That confusion dissipated me when I met other Syrians, and often other Levantines, as I noticed patterns of variety that were similar to me and saw more people who looked like me. It was only as I got older that I realized how diversity has long been Syria’s reality. This beautiful small country on the Eastern Mediterranean, on the northernmost part of the ”Middle East”, boasts a history like no other in the region, and our different appearances as Syrians is a testament to that.

I’ve lost count of how many unknowingly racist and annoying comments I’ve gotten since moving to Canada in 2015. The reality is, most people here assume everyone from as west as Morocco to the east in Iran or Afghanistan, to be similar. And so, as soon as I tell someone I’m Syrian, I know what to expect: the widened eyes, maybe a jaw drop, the high pitched “Oh wow!”, and if I’m lucky enough to be speaking with someone more mindful of their language, they would say “I didn’t expect that” or “Can Syrians look the way you are?”. Unfortunately, usually that’s not the case and instead, many of these Syrians hear “But you don’t look Syrian!” or “100% Syrian?!” or “But you look white! How are you Syrian?”. In such situations, we learn to control the impulse of rolling our eyeballs, and instead find ourselves in a position where we are expected to explain ourselves.

Coloured eyes, as people know, are very common in Syria, but when it comes to “looking European” (having white skin, “white features”, blonde or ginger hair), other Syrians either interrogate us to prove our Syrianness, or glamourize us to an uncomfortable extent. The glamourization, especially since childhood, can lead one to internalize colourism, and have a perceived sense of “I’m different and better/more attractive/desired”. In Arabic-speaking countries, this is a common experience. In the West, we become an artifact of fascination because we’re from this far away, uncivilized place; yet we somehow look closer to them than they had imagined.

The experiences that I and other Syrians have had are quite broad. From other Syrians recognizing you as one of their own, to insisting that we descend from Crusaders, the French, or Turks. From being told that we don’t look Syrian by people who can’t even locate Syria on a map, to being able to hear other Arabs speak about you since they assume you don’t speak Arabic.

“You don’t look Syrian” Syrians, are as Syrian as everyone else. We must treat our diversity as a complete norm and nothing to raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes about. It is also time we end the glamourization of this community in Syria, raising children into adults who make their “European” features their entire personality.