The Syrian deputy foreign minister, Faisal al-Miqdad, has visited Cuba, Venezuela and Ecuador during the past week, delivering "classified personal letters" from President Assad to local leaders, Haaretz reports.
The Israeli newspaper says Assad is exploring the possibility of asylum in Latin America for himself, his family and associates. Maybe this information came from a reliable source but the evidence, as published in the paper, looks rather thin:
"A source in the Venezuelan capital Caracas who spoke to Haaretz was not able to say what the response to the Syrian request was, but Venezuela's foreign ministry confirmed to the El Universal newspaper that al-Miqdad did indeed bring a letter for President Hugo Chavez ...
"All that the official spokesperson in Caracas could confirm was that Assad's message touched on 'the personal relationship between the two presidents', and that the deputy foreign minister's visit defines the close relationship between the two states."
While exile might be an option for some of the Assad family and regime officials, it probably is not for Bashar himself. Here's an
alternative view from a Russian analyst, via the New York Times:
"[Assad's] mood is that he will be killed anyway," Fyodor Lukyanov, editor of a Russian foreign affairs journal and the head of an influential policy group, said in an interview in Moscow, adding that only an "extremely bold" diplomatic proposal could possibly convince Mr Assad that he could leave power and survive.
"If he will try to go, to leave, to exit, he will be killed by his own people," Mr Lukyanov said, speculating that security forces dominated by Mr Assad's minority Alawite sect would not let him depart and leave them to face revenge. "If he stays, he will be killed by his opponents. He is in a trap. It is not about Russia or anybody else. It is about his physical survival."
It's impossible to know for sure what Bashar is thinking, but this does have a ring of plausibility.
Another important factor in the psychology of it all is that Bashar lives in his father's shadow. Odd as it may seem now, he never sought power. He was not the favoured son and was quietly getting on with his ophthalmology career in London when his more charismatic brother Bassel – the heir apparent – died in a car crash.
Bashar was then recalled to Damascus for some rapid training from his father in How to Succeed as a Baathist President. Since inheriting the presidency 12 years ago he has always, to some extent, been a prisoner of his father's legacy – entrusted with preserving it and bound by obligations to family and the ruling clique.
"What would father have done?" is a question he probably asks himself rather a lot. It certainly looks that way, given the nature of his response to the uprising. But what worked for Hafez in 1982 when thousands were massacred in Hama isn't working for Bashar now, and so we see a familiar story developing where a father builds the family business only to have his son let it go to ruin.
By responding to events in the way he thinks his father would have responded, Bashar can at least absolve himself of blame when things go wrong. But whatever happens, he cannot be seen to abandon his inheritance. Defeat is one thing, but walking away and leaving others to sort out the mess is not part of the Assad mentality.
I really can't imagine Bashar, post revolution, living it up in Havana, Caracas or Quito. My hunch is that he will sink with his ship.
Posted by Brian Whitaker, 5 December 2012