Leaving Baniyas
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.
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.
Like all the locomotives still operating, 708 was 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.
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.
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’s 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.
He explains why he joined the army.
“At the time, the regime told young people on the coast: ‘You have no choice, there’s only the sea behind you. It’s either the army or death’,” he says.
“That’s why I enlisted, and also to earn a salary,” he adds.
After military service, he joined the SRC.
“I would not have opposed staying longer, but after eight years, you were usually demobilised,” 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’s new leader, Ahmed al-Sharaa, is Sunni.
But Mohammed says, “Our mission is still the same, and we continue accomplishing it regardless.”
“People need to get used to change; it will inevitably take time to trust politicians again,” he adds.
Hussein and Abu Mahmoud nod, and through the window, a large statue of Hafez al-Assad lying on its side comes into view.
Despite their fears, they also see the train as a way of overcoming social divides.
“I am an Alawite, I could choose to sit at home and do nothing all day because I am scared, but I’d miss the locomotive, not making myself useful and enjoying the landscape,” says Hussein.