The Levant’s Captagon Problem
In a rare move, in the first week of July, Syria cancelled the BBC’s media accreditation in the country. The cancellation followed a damning report by the news outlet linking high-ranking officials of Syria’s military to the illicit Captagon trade. As the Middle East begins to normalise ties with the Assad regime, new attention is being shone on this underexplored drug and the interconnected webs that have propagated it into one of the region’s most popular narcotics.
Cheaper than cannabis and more readily available than cocaine, the production of Captagon pills has been steadily increasing for the past decade. At the height of the Syrian civil war international media labelled it the drug of choice for combatants, with its amphetamine base dulling fatigue and giving the user a sense of euphoric invulnerability. But it has been through more traditional consumer markets that the drug has found a sustainable userbase. In poverty-stricken areas, a $0.5 pill of Captagon can stave off hunger for longer and for cheaper than a meal. In the Gulf, high youth unemployment combined with a relatively large disposable income has resulted in a steady demand for the party drug. Yet despite its increasing popularity, content analyses on the modern drug have been scarce. Ostensibly an amphetamine derivative, the chemical makeup of the drug drastically varies from producer to producer. There is some evidence to suggest that drugs carrying the label have merely been rebranded caffeine pills, whilst other analyses found a much more dangerous methamphetamine base. Such variability is not only dangerous for the user, but also complicates rehabilitative care in a region already lacking in healthcare provisions. What, then, is Captagon and how has it come to dominate the Middle Eastern narcotics trade?
The original Captagon (Fenethylline) was developed in the 1960s as ADHD medicine but was banned in most markets in the 1980s. The drug, or a drug appropriating the brand name, continued to be produced in Bulgaria as a revenue stream for organised crime during the Cold War. Syrians studying in the USSR brought the drug, and Bulgarian expertise, back with them on their return. From these humble origins, Syria’s Captagon industry has ballooned in recent years. Despite repeated denials of their involvement, the export of the drug is thought to be worth upwards of $5 billion to the Syrian regime. To put this into perspective, the World Bank estimates Syria’s total GDP to be roughly $11 billion as of 2020.
Syria has a history in the drug trade. Throughout its occupation of the Bekaa valley in Lebanon from 1976-2005, cannabis production in the territory is thought to have been a lucrative source of informal revenue. During its occupation, the Syrian regime found an erstwhile Lebanese partner in the form of Hezbollah. The Islamist group has proven integral to the fortunes of the burgeoning industry in the Levant. The group began shifting production away from its bread-and-butter export of hashish towards Captagon following its brief war with Israel in 2006. The organisation has provided significant logistical support for smuggling operations via its extensive ties with Iran, organised criminal networks and its informal control of Lebanon’s remote border regions in the east.
The Syrian civil war provided an opportunity for the expansion of the narcotic business. A breakdown in law and order as well as porous borders saw production increase dramatically. At the war’s onset, much of Syrian Captagon production was concentrated in rebel-held areas. Twelve years in, however, and it is apparent that production has moved towards Syria’s regime-aligned southern areas. The regime, for its part, has adamantly denied any complicity and has orchestrated a number of measures to suppress production, notably by offering intelligence that facilitated an airstrike by Amman against an alleged narcotics dealer in May. However, research by the New Line Institute suggests that these efforts are largely superficial. For instance, despite being a production hub for the product, reported government seizures of Captagon in Syria are miniscule in comparison to their regional counterparts.
Captagon, therefore, would appear to be a vital lifeline for Syria’s wrecked economy. However, some experts note that the likelihood of these drug revenues entering state coffers is very low. Instead, Captagon has been used to consolidate Assad’s rule by reinforcing patronage networks in the military and affirming loyalty to the regime. At the heart of this network is the infamous Fourth Division, an elite army unit largely populated by Assad’s own Alawite religious group and spearheaded by his younger brother Maher. With more autonomy than the rest of the army, the Fourth Division’s integration within the Syrian state has allowed for operations to expand with relative impunity. The results of this endeavour speak for themselves. In December of last year, Jordan seized 6 million Captagon pills. In March, Iraq seized 3 million. In April, Lebanon seized 10 million.
International attention on the issue is rising. Last December, the US passed the Captagon Act which obligates the government to create a strategy aimed at tackling Syria’s narcotics industry. This was followed in March by a new round of sanctions targeting two of Assad’s cousins who are thought to have direct involvement in the trade. In the UK, a special parliamentary session was held in June discussing the importance of Captagon to the Assad regime. Syria, for its part, has recently agreed to work with Jordan and Iraq in curbing the smuggling of the drug along its borders.
As the normalisation process continues and Syria re-engages with the Arab League, Captagon will prove to be an important bargaining chip for the regime. Whilst its importance should not be overstated, the readiness of the Assad regime to instrumentalise this issue highlights both the savviness and savagery of the state. As other nations open their door to Syria, so too will the regime find more avenues for expressing this unsavoury capacity.