Syrians in Jordan Return Home
Departing from a newly expanded bus station in the nation’s capital, Syrians in Jordan chart a journey home. For some it is a two-way trip. For others, there is no looking back.
In the early hours of the morning, Mohammed, a young Syrian refugee, shuffles to load his suitcases into the storage compartment of a coach bus, one of many lined up in the newly expanded parking lot in Amman, Jordan. This morning, he is headed back home to Syria, which he fled in 2013 as the brutality of civil war and dictatorship engulfed the nation. Waiting for him on the other end of this three-hour journey between Amman and Damascus is his mother, lingering between them a twelve-year separation.
Working a day job in the housing renovation sector, Mohammed has built up his life in Jordan over the course of more than a decade. He says that his journey today is just a trip; that he hopes to come back to Jordan next month and continue his life here until he is prepared to return permanently. But as a Syrian refugee, exiting Jordan’s borders risks his legal status inside the Kingdom. His trip to Syria may become a one-way journey, with his life in Jordan no longer his to return to.
“It’s a big risk,” he says. “I don't have a job [in Syria], but I have to return to see my mother.”
As one of the 650,000 Syrian refugees in Jordan, Mohammed, like many other Syrians in the country, must pay a steep price for his desire to catch a glimpse of home and the family he once left behind — the risk of being permanently barred from re-entering Jordan on the precarious chance that he can build a life in Syria. In the nascence of a post-Assad Syria, which has landed on its feet yet is still finding its balance, many Syrians express concerns over the battered economy and a fragile political and security landscape. Yet, over seventy thousand Syrian refugees in Jordan have already made up their minds, choosing to permanently return home.
Not all Syrians are subject to the same policies governing movement across Jordanian borders. The Jordanian Ministry of Interior issued a statement in April outlining that, on the basis of Jordan’s economic and security interests, investors, students enrolled in Jordanian universities, and spouses of Jordanians are allowed to travel between Syria and Jordan freely. For Syrians like Mohammed who do not fit into the outlined categories, the only option is a one-way trip.
Syrians who don’t have the privilege of freely re-entering Jordan risk losing their refugee and legal status upon their exit from the Kingdom — only allowed to re-enter if they obtain a one-month tourist visa and registration with an official tourism agency. Jordan’s policy notably differs from Turkey's, which has universally authorized Syrians to embark on “go and see visits,” which permit one member of each Syrian household to travel to Syria and return to Turkey up to three times, enabling families to make more confident decisions about returning home.
A spike in demand for trips to Syria has stemmed from the ease of travel that the Ministry of Interior has enabled for select Syrians. The tour company offices stationed at the Unified Launch Center for International Travel, the common departure and arrival point for buses making cross-border trips from or to Jordan, have experienced a boom in business since the fall of Assad's regime.
Ibrahim, who has been operating a transportation company between Syria and Jordan, says that to accommodate the increase in demand for trips, he has bought three more buses and runs three times as many trips as he used to before December 2024. He explains that during Assad’s era, most of the passengers on the trips were men above the age of 50, given that they were no longer subject to conscription.
Today, the scene at the lot is vastly different. The station buzzes with families, some hugging and kissing goodbye, and others boarding buses together. Some young men linger on the sidelines of the curb, awaiting their bus's departure. Jordan’s policies, which effectively pick and choose who has the privilege to leave and return, shape vastly different realities for Syrians wishing to go home. These differing realities are laid bare at this bus station — where some Syrians can make the decision to return home on their own terms while others are propelled to leave by little more than a massive leap of faith.
Mahmood Sheikh, originally from the city of Homs, Syria, and a current resident of Abdoun, an upscale neighborhood in Amman, sets to depart on his second trip to Syria since the fall of the regime. Owning a clothing retail business in Abdoun, his status as a business owner allows him to freely exit and re-enter Jordan’s borders. While he intends to visit for just one day in order to complete paperwork for his passport, he plans to take his time before contemplating a permanent return.
“The situation today is getting better,” he says, reflecting on his observations from his first trip. “The president is a respectable man … and work opportunities and services are increasing.”
But with his business and family based in Jordan, he explains that he would not consider moving back to Syria for another two to three years. Another Syrian businessman, originally from Damascus and also working in the clothing sector, shares a similar sentiment. Currently living in the Tabarbour neighborhood of Amman with his family, he explains that his trip to Syria today will be a short one.
“For now, I just want to see Syria and then come back,” he says.
But reminiscing about the simplicity and tight-knit community that once defined his life back home, he hopes to return permanently one day in the future. “The situation in the country now is below zero,” he explains, echoing the sentiment held by many trafficking the bus station this morning — that they simply need more time before moving back for good.
Sparsely interspersed throughout the station are also individuals whom the Jordan government restricts from re-entry. They take in their last moments inside Jordan, where they built up their lives over the past decade. A father of two sons who disclosed only his occupation as an electrical engineer during his earlier days in Syria, exchanges heavy goodbyes with his sons, who plan to remain in Jordan for now. Eager to reunite with his family and left without employment in Jordan, he has prepared himself for the one-way journey.
“Our return is not allowed,” he says, acknowledging the risk. “Our house in Syria is completely destroyed… and life will change completely from top to bottom.”
But he insists he is unafraid, charting his journey with no expectation or fear for what awaits him on the other side. As his bus departs, Mohammed expresses the sadness he feels leaving the country, even knowing a reunion with his mother awaits him on the other side.
“I’m really sad to be leaving,” he says, explaining that as he spent the formative years of his life in this country, his identity is split, half Jordanian and half Syrian. But even as he claims Jordan as his own, it is to little avail — his return, if it ever comes, would render him little more than a tourist.