Returning to Quneitra

On schedule, and with only a single tragic incident--four Austrian soldiers of the United Nations Disengagement Observer Force were killed when their Land Rover exploded a mine--Syria and Israel last week completed the separation of forces specified by their cease-fire agreement. Syria recovered not only all the territory it lost in the October fighting, but also Quneitra, the Golan Heights provincial capital that Israel has held since '67. The recovery of the ruined city--a symbol of Damascus' determination to win back all the land it lost to Israel in the Six-Day War--touched off a day of emotional national celebration. TIME Correspondent Karsten Prager accompanied the exuberant Syrians into Quneitra and cabled this account:

As the Israelis withdrew from their salient inside Syria, thousands of refugees flocked south on the Damascus-Quneitra road to return to their land. When the day finally arrived for the takeover of the capital itself, thousands were packed along the dusty highway, waiting for the barriers to open.

Damascus' understandable determination to celebrate "the liberation of Quneitra" added more confusion to an already massive logistical problem. Thousands of Baath party faithful, as well as plain sightseers, trucked and bused toward Quneitra, their vehicles festooned with Syrian flags and homemade banners. A traffic jam several miles long stalled hundreds of official limousines, military vehicles, donkey carts and trucks piled with returning refugees, stoves, bedrolls and furniture. Red-bereted military police struggled to bring order out of chaos, occasionally shooting their AK-47 automatic rifles into the air to get attention. Reminders of the October fighting were plentiful. Occasionally across the fertile plain came the echoing thump of detonating mines. A prairie fire, ignited by exploding ordnance, cast a gray pall over the land.

The holiday atmosphere cooled when the crowd got a look at what it was regaining. Once a community of 70,000 and the relatively prosperous center of a rich agricultural area, Quneitra lies shattered. Most of its buildings are knocked flat, as though by dynamite, or pockmarked by shellfire. Surrounded by rubble and flying dust, Syrian Prime Minister Mahmoud Ayoubi called the destruction "barbaric"--without referring to Syria's part in the fighting--and charged that much of the damage had occurred "not in war, but before Israel withdrew."

The refugees cheered up, however, when President Hafez Assad arrived dressed in military uniform. Surrounded by excited crowds who tossed flowers, cheered and chanted, "Welcome Assad, the liberator!", the President kissed the Syrian flag and raised it to the top of a makeshift flagpole.

Buffer Zone. Quneitra's importance for the moment is primarily symbolic. The new buffer zone that runs through the territory from north to south has deprived the town of its old strategic position as a major crossroads and access point to both northern Israel and the Damascus plain. Economically, the city will be a burden on the Syrian government for some time to come, although in the long run the agricultural potential of a fertile, well-watered area--good land for growing fruit, wheat, barley and beans--should contribute significantly to Syria's economy.

Quneitra--"an amputated city" in the words of its governor--is in no condition to house the refugees until water and power are restored and the ruins are certified as disease-free. For the moment, only inhabitants of less damaged surrounding villages are being allowed back to live. Even so, some determined Quneitrans have made it into town to look over their destroyed homes and figure out how to rebuild. Says Issa Dakdouk, 24, an electrician who set up camp in the shell of a ruined building with his wife and four children: "I've waited seven years for this day. This time I am here to stay."

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