'We want to go back, but to what?': Syrian refugees in Lebanon left in limbo as pressure to return home grows

Fourteen years after fleeing their homes, many Syrian refugees in Lebanon say they dream of returning — but that dream remains out of reach.

“We have no money to return, no homes in Syria, we’re in debt, and there are no jobs or salaries like here. So we're not thinking of going back,” Khaled Mustafa, a Syrian refugee in Lebanon, tells The New Arab. 

Lebanon, home to over a million Syrian refugees according to the UN, is pushing ahead with a government plan to return refugees, arguing that the burden on its economy and infrastructure has become unbearable.

The first tangible step in that direction came from Syria’s border authority, which announced a limited amnesty. Syrians in Lebanon who entered legally after December 1, 2024, and whose residency has expired, can return home without penalties.

Those who entered before that must pay exit fees, while those who entered irregularly are also exempt from penalties — but all must leave before July 15 to qualify.

But the offer rings hollow for many refugees, who say they simply cannot afford to leave. “Even if we sold everything, we couldn’t pay for the journey back,” says Zain al-Sham, 61.

“If we’re struggling to pay rent here, how can we go back to nothing?” asks Zalal al-Hassan, 36. “Yes, we want to return. But the conditions are impossible.”

'I have nothing'

According to Lebanese officials, the return will be safe and voluntary and in line with international standards. They point to recent surveys suggesting an increasing number of Syrians — particularly after the fall of the Assad government in December 2024 — are considering returning home.

Lisa Abou Khaled, spokesperson for the UN refugee agency (UNHCR) in Lebanon, tells The New Arab that 27% of Syrian refugees surveyed across Lebanon, Egypt, Jordan, and Iraq now say they plan to return within the next year, up from just 2% before the regime's collapse.

Still, a field survey by The New Arab found that 85% of Syrian families in Lebanon say they do not intend to return in the near term, citing unresolved obstacles.

“We want to go back, but to what?” says Umm Ahmad, 50, from southern Qusayr. Her home is destroyed, and her family of six would lose their only source of income if they left Lebanon.

Baheija Abdel Qader, 56, from Krak des Chevaliers, says she endured years of suffering under the former regime and internal displacement before finally escaping to Lebanon. “Even after the regime is gone, I can’t return — my house is rubble," she explains. 

"I would leave tomorrow if I had the money to rebuild,” says Ahmad Ibrahim, 36, from Aleppo’s countryside. “But I have nothing. Lebanon gave me a way to earn a living. It was my only refuge.”

Legal limbo and mounting pressure

Over the past year, Lebanese authorities have intensified restrictions on Syrians without legal residency. According to UNHCR, at least 5,600 Syrians were deported between January and October 2024. Some municipalities have also imposed curfews and barred Syrians from working or renting property, in what many see as an effort to pressure them into returning.

“I live like I’m already dead,” says Artish Bareem, 29, from Afrin. “There’s no work here, I can’t reach my family in Canada, and I can’t go back to Syria. Being deported would be like a death sentence.”

Ahmad Ibrahim has spent the past ten years in Lebanon without proper papers. He works 14-hour days delivering orders for $400 a month, sending $150 to his family in Syria. “I’ve never received help from the UN,” he says.

Lebanese caretaker Prime Minister Najib Mikati said in January that his meeting with Syrian President Ahmad al-Shara left him optimistic about Syria’s willingness to receive returning refugees. Yet there is still no official agreement between the two governments, nor any sign of a reconstruction plan in areas most refugees would return to.

Some, like Khaled Ibrahim, suggest the UN should give each returning family financial support to start over.

“They’ve been studying this issue for months,” says Sally al-Jaabi, 48. “And all they came up with was $100 per person? That doesn’t even cover the cost of moving furniture.”

The Lebanese government says it is working with the Syrian government and international organisations, including the International Organization for Migration, to offer small financial incentives to encourage return.

Abou Khaled confirms the UNHCR is stepping up support for returnees and coordinating with Lebanon and Syrian authorities.

She says more than 577,000 Syrians have returned since December 2024 — 177,000 of them through Lebanon. “With proper support, more can return,” she says. “But it must be safe, voluntary, and dignified.”

A formal joint programme for voluntary return is expected to launch in July.

Aid cuts leave refugees on the brink

For many Syrian families, day-to-day survival in Lebanon has become nearly impossible.

“I registered for UNHCR aid three years ago,” says Amira, a 42-year-old widow with two children. “They gave me $100 for four months in late 2024. Then they stopped it — no funds.”

Baeija Abdel Qader says she receives $85 a month from the UNHCR — barely enough for rent, let alone medicine or food. “My husband and I are too old and sick to work,” she says.

Funding for refugee support in Lebanon has plunged in recent months, especially after cuts in US aid. According to UNHCR, only 21% of its 2025 Lebanon budget is currently funded.

Abou Khaled warns that unless more funds are secured, the agency will be forced to halt all healthcare support by the end of the year. Already, cash assistance has been slashed by 65% since January.

Still, she says, the return programme is designed to include financial and logistical support for those who choose to go back, including transport and assistance upon arrival. Lebanon’s General Security will also help facilitate safe departures.

But unless the international community steps up, Abou Khaled says, the window for meaningful progress could close. “If we don’t act now, we risk a major setback in our efforts to find lasting solutions for Syrian refugees.”

Majd Abisi is a Damascus-based journalist, writer, and screenwriter

This piece was published in collaboration with Egab