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The Syrian uprising began with young people, rebellious teenagers who, more than a year ago, scrawled anti-regime graffiti on a wall in the southern city of Deraa. The protest against their arrest, and the regime's brutal response sparked the wider revolt.
NPR's Deborah Amos is just back from a reporting trip to Damascus. And she says the younger generation is at the forefront of the uprising.
DEBORAH AMOS, BYLINE: In a cafe in the heart of Damascus, a young man flips open his cell phone to show pictures of people killed in the uprising.
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: Actually, they are my friends.
AMOS: It's a risky thing to do. And if he's arrested, the pictures will be a tip off that he's against the government. But he says he doesn't care.
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: If someone from the government comes to me and said, why you put these pictures? I will tell him, take me and kill me. I'm not afraid to have these pictures on my cell phone.
AMOS: He's 26, won't give his name but his bluster is something you hear often now from young Syrians, rarely from the older generation. And there is a reason for their fear, he says.
UNIDENTIFIED MAN: The elders - Christian, Muslims - they afraid because the more you are older, the more you live under the umbrella of this regime - you fear it more.
AMOS: There is a generation gap in Syria, says Abdul Aziz Kheyer, a veteran of the opposition movement who was jailed for years for speaking out.
DR. ABDUL AZIZ KHEYER: They were a generation who are brought up under the rule of silence. They are used not to express themselves and to repeat what is allowed to say.
AMOS: Young activists say directly what they want and how they feel, which has been a shock for the regime, says Kheyer, and for their parents; especially now that the uprising has spread even to the capital's wealthier neighborhoods.
KHEYER: They were active behind their father's back, because they don't want to annoy him or to make him feel afraid. And many fathers were shocked when they hear that their daughter or their son is arrested.
AMOS: But after 15 months, these young activists have transformed the country. The older generation looks to them for guidance.
KHEYER: The young generation now plays the role of the consultant, not only in technology but in politics as well. Is this OK or not? Is this dangerous or not?
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
AMOS: In a Christian neighborhood in the capital, this 17-year-old high school student, who wouldn't give her name, says her parents now openly support the revolt. She was the first in her family on Facebook to express her political views. And now, she helps her mom.
Did she ask for your help to be on Facebook?
UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN: Yes, other day.
AMOS: Have you been to a demonstration?
UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN: Yes.
AMOS: Does your mom know?
UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN: Nope.
(SOUNDBITE OF CHANTING PROTESTORS)
AMOS: They are fearless, taking incredible risks. The chant: Traitor, traitor, the Syrian army is a traitor. On Facebook pages, there are even jokes about the dangers activists face every time they protest. One goes: Only in Syria, to get to heaven, just cross the street.
Even as violence escalates, the creative voices are still the strongest, says Ammar Alani, a musician turned activist.
AMMAR ALANI: They are communicating, organizing, and it's all virtual. But it's working. They have their opinion and they are debating it. It's millions of young people just being connected and active.
AMOS: And you can't turn it off?
ALANI: You can't. You have to kill them all. They are trying, though.
ALANI: I don't think it will work.
AMOS: In Damascus, activists are looking beyond protest and war, working out what it means to be a citizen and what kind of Syria they want when the war is over.
Deborah Amos, NPR News.