ABSTRACT
Against a hackneyed discourse of visual representation of the Syrian refugee crisis, one flooded with a rhetoric of victimization and humanitarian blackmail, this project attempts to tap into a different visual regime, one flirting with the workings of memory and imagination, but that does not succumb to its self-idealization or naiveté. Such visual regime is governed by political legislative discourse, particularly Law No. 10. Issued by the Syrian government on April 2, 2018, Law No. 10 states that destroyed areas of Syria are to be re-organized, developed, and reconstructed. To prove one's claim to property, damaged or destroyed, one must appear in person with his/her real estate documents within 30 days to prove ownership or lose their rights. The fact that the unrealistic 30-day time frame was extended to one year does not gloss over the sectarian ethnic cleansing that this law will push forth, redrawing the map before the war has even ended. In light of such an impasse to the conception and presentation of proof—either because of its loss or because of the risk that an in-person return posits particularly to those opposing the regime or are suspected to oppose it—I collect, construct, and reflect on a body of evidence that fiddles with the familiar visual discourse of the camps and what is deemed to be an official claim of ownership. If claim to property is typically a clear-stepped process entailing an application and legally recognized supporting documents, with Law No. 10, purposefully, the right to claim emerges as site of crisis, which might nonetheless allow for a wager on a poetics of evidence.
