SOURCE: THE NEW YORK TIMES

BY: JENAN MOUSSA AND HARALD DOORNBOS

About six miles north of the Syrian city Manbij is a town near the Turkish border called Dadat, which has been ruled by multiple occupiers since 2012. Atop one hill, the armed fighters of the predominantly Kurdish Syrian Democratic Forces, or S.D.F., crouch within bunkers and behind earthen walls. Through binoculars they stare at their enemies: the Turkish Army and Turkish-backed Syrian militias, who have built their own bases and bunkers about a mile away.

Often American special-operations soldiers visit the Kurds for updates and a cup of tea. The Americans live among them near the front line and work with the S.D.F. to keep the Islamic State from returning. During a recent trip to the area in late March, an S.D.F. commander named Shiar drove us in his pickup truck a short distance from the front line to a small house clearly marked by an American flag flying from the roof. Armored vehicles were parked outside.

“You see, this is their base,” Shiar said. “We wanted to give the house for free to the Americans. But the Americans insisted they pay rent for it.”

On the porch, American soldiers carrying lumber appeared to be fortifying their position. They declined to comment.

Northern Syria has been troubled by violence for more than seven years. Armed groups have risen and fallen, the Syrian military has contracted and expanded and regional players with a stake — Turkey, Iran, Russia and the United States, along with multiple Persian Gulf countries — have all supported their favored causes or combatants or inserted their own fighters into the conflict. The result has been a confounding array of forces on the ground, including traditional allies now on opposing sides, or aligned in one locale and opposed in another.

Although Syria officially is still a unified country, in reality it has been divided into three sectors by the outside countries intervening on the ground: Russia (in the west, north and center), Turkey (in the northwest) and America (in the north and east).

Much of the conflict in Syria arises in locations where two or more of these sectors border one another. This is why Manbij and the surrounding area is such a hot spot. Located on the western edge of the American sector, this city of 300,000 also borders the Turkish and Russian sectors. “I have fought ISIS, Turkey, and now I am in Manbij, where all sides meet,” Shiar said, “It is just a little city. Who would have thought that a place like this would attract so much international attention?” In the town Arima, just west of the city, the S.D.F., Americans, Turks, rebels, Syrian Army, Russians and Iranians are squeezed into one square kilometer. For the time being, this area is off limits to journalists.“As schoolkids we were little rascals,” said Ali, a Kurdish fighter whom we met in Ainissa, just east of Manbij. “Our teacher would often yell at us and say, ‘If you kids continue being such troublemakers, the end of the world will start here in Manbij.’ If I now look at the situation Manbij is in, I often think back on my teacher’s words.”

Officially the Americans and the Turks are NATO allies, but not in Dadat, where the mortars in the garden of the American compound were pointed in the direction of Turkey’s army.

This front is not active; the forces rarely exchange fire. But the American soldiers work with Kurdish forces who have squared off elsewhere in Syria against not only a NATO ally but also Syrian rebels who were for years armed and financed by the United States. Those rebels are now working with Turkey.

The situation inside the city, and for civilians, is equally complex. Since the start of the conflict, Manbij’s residents have been ruled at one time or another by almost all sides. Syrian government forces were here until mid-2012, when rebels of the Free Syrian Army replaced them, until early 2014. ISIS then took over and ruled until mid-2016, when the S.D.F. took back the city.

A majority of Manbij’s inhabitants are Syrian Arabs. Being occupied by the Kurdish-led S.D.F. does not sit well with many of them. The S.D.F. is secular, left-leaning and vocal about women’s rights. Its ranks include female fighters who don’t wear veils and shake hands with men. Some of these women command male troops. The Arab population of Manbij is deeply conservative. Most women who leave the house do so with covered faces. Some Arab residents in Manbij would prefer the city to be taken over by the Turkish Army and Syrian rebels allied with them. Others see risks in allying with Turkey, and say they want the Syrian government to retake Manbij.

“If Turkey replaces the Kurds, there is no way of knowing if they ever will leave again,” said one resident, who asked not to be named. “So it is better to get Assad back. Assad is an Arab. Kurds and Turks aren’t.”

Still other Arab groups in Manbij have been pragmatic and work with the current authorities — the S.D.F. — to keep the peace, because yet another destabilizing factor lurks in Manbij: ISIS. The extremist group ruled the city for more than two years. It has been driven from local power, though residents and local fighters said that it still maintains cells in the area. The Sufi imam at the destroyed mosque still hardly dares to speak to foreign journalists. He would not give his name. “We are scared,” he said. “Unfortunately, ISIS is still around.”

On March 29, two coalition soldiers were killed in Manbij and five more were wounded when unknown assailants attacked a vehicle near the Sufi graveyard. Although ISIS did not claim the attack, it is generally believed that ISIS or other extremist elements carried it out. The uncertainties about the attack fit a pattern. Few people know whom to trust, and no one knows what to expect. Few civilians in Manbij are willing to speak on the record.

“What can we do?” said a shop owner who runs a small business near one of the main streets. “If we say we like the Kurds, the Turks will be angry. If we say we like the Turks, the Kurds and the Syrians are angry. The only thing we can say is this: We hope for three things — stability, stability and stability.”

In Manbij, the S.D.F. can’t afford to close an eye for a minute because of the constant fear of a sudden, devastating Turkish strike. To the Kurdish commander Muhammad Abu Adel, head of the Manbij Military Council, that fear is rooted not only in the death and destruction such an invasion would sow but also in the uncertainty about whether American backing for his Kurdish forces will end.

Adel said he had received assurances that American troops will stay. Standing near his headquarters in the outskirts of Manbij, he scrolled through his smartphone and found WhatsApp messages he had recently received from commanders of an American unit in the city. “Listen,” he said.

In one message, an interpreter working with the Pentagon’s forces relayed an American officer’s assurances: “The captain passes his regards to you and says we are supporting you,” he said, in Arabic.

Another WhatsApp message also expressed American support for the Kurdish fighters, at least for now. “Are there any injuries on the front lines?” the voice asked. “Make sure everybody is safe.”

In another message, the American captain asked through the translator: “Are your cars still O.K.? You need any spare parts for the cars? Just to let you know, we were on a patrol. We just returned to base.”

“Don’t let the news disturb you,” he added, referring to reports at the time that American forces may withdraw. “It’s all rumors.”