On 25 September, Syrian authorities intercepted a shipment entering from Lebanon. Alongside 24 kilogrammes of hashish were 113 bottles of alcohol. It was the second reported interception involving alcohol in a matter of weeks, as border guards had stopped another shipment in August.
The interceptions show that enforcement is possible. But they also expose a basic weakness in the policy that turned those bottles into contraband. Syria prohibits alcohol imports, yet foreign brands are still getting in, showing that the government is policing entry into a market it has chosen to leave open.
Two seizures cannot tell us how much alcohol is entering Syria or whether smuggling has grown since the restriction took effect. Nor can the foreign brands I have seen during my current trip establish the scale of the trade. What is clear is that demand persists, so traders still have a compelling incentive to defy the ban.
For a cash-strapped state, that has consequences. Legal revenue is lost. Retailers become more dependent on opaque supply chains. Consumers have less certainty about where a bottle came from or what it contains. And border forces are required to devote resources to intercepting a product that remains legal on Syrian shelves.
The contradiction was built into Syria’s new customs framework, which prohibited alcoholic imports in May. The government did not, however, ban their production, sale or consumption. Customs officers must stop foreign bottles at official crossings. However, retailers can sell them once they enter by other routes. Customers seeking imported whisky, gin, vodka, wine or beer have little reason to change their preferences because a customs document has changed. For traders, the task is to find a different way to meet that demand.
During my current trip in Syria, I have found the same imported brands widely available in the bars, restaurants and shops I visited. Owners I spoke to reported no difficulty obtaining supplies. Some who felt comfortable discussing the matter acknowledged that the bottles they sell had been smuggled into Syria.
These conversations cannot measure availability across the country or account for every shipment. But they show how an import ban can leave customers’ choices largely intact while changing who supplies the shelves and how.