I first visited Syria as a student politician 34 years ago. The non-aligned movement (NAM) had a student branch and Syria was keen to host NAM’s upcoming general congress. It needed the support of Maltese students because we had won one of the five vice-presidencies of the union. Syria’s courtship of our support included a visit that amazed me with its blend of courtesy and iron-fisted nationalism.

I realised how deep an impression that visit had left when key scenes returned to mind this week as the European Parliament prepared to host a discussion on Syria. More specifically, the Committee on Foreign Affairs, in conjunction with the delegation for relations with the Mashreq countries, had an exchange of views with representatives of the Syrian opposition about their country’s current situation.

In 1977, President Hafez al-Assad (father of the President Bashar al-Assad) had only been in power for seven years. He was to rule for nearly another quarter of a century. By the time of my visit, however, he had already been embroiled in the Lebanese civil war for a year. The year before, he had shocked many in the Arab world by intervening on the side of the Lebanese Christians, despite the fact that he was Muslim, just as his country largely was.

Other observers, however, took this as a sign that they were dealing with a calculating politician who would not let conventional wisdom stand in the way of his assessment of the national interest. This was the same leader who, together with President Anwar Sadat of Egypt, had four years earlier stunned Israel with a military assault that left the country reeling.

I cannot be sure that such exploits weighed heavily on the Syrian public’s mind. However, while I was there I witnessed a public display of loyalty to the President. Thousands of students, all seemingly in their 20s and wearing grey suits, marched and shouted in unison: “Bir-ruħ, bid-demm” (“with our soul and our blood”).

It would have been impressive if spontaneous. However, I was even more impressed as I assumed it was staged. It takes an elaborate organisation to stage something like that. It takes muscle and a reputation for ruthlessness. All of which I was prepared to look for when the senior members of our delegation, of whom I was one, came to meet the President.

He met us individually. I remember that when I went in he was courteous and praised Malta for its policy towards Mediterranean countries and its international stand on non-alignment. I was intrigued by the fact that in the office there was his brother, who was obviously the main confidante of the President. The physical resemblance of the two was astonishing. I remember that the office was very dimly lit and far from being opulent.

This scene became more intriguing over the years as I learnt more about the two men I saw. Five years later, the courteous soft-spoken President would order the most brutal repression of an Arab uprising, the Hama massacre, where as many as 40,000 people may have been killed. The massacre was carried out under the direct oversight of the other man I saw in that room, his brother Rifaat.

Yet, two years after this incident, the two brothers fell out. The President fell gravely ill. With rumours of his death spreading, the brother sought to seize power. Armed forces supporting one or the other faced off each other in the streets of Damascus. Displaying an iron will, the sick President pulled himself out of bed, addressed the nation and exiled his brother.

What do such scenes tell us about Syria today other than that there is more to the country than meets the eye?

They remind us that Syria is home to several religious minorities, some of them belonging to the earliest Christian churches. About 30 per cent of the population belong to a minority. They have an interest in Syria remaining a secular country, as it is under the present regime (itself made up largely of members of the Muslim Alawite minority), and may prefer not to risk change.

The scene also reminds us of the regime’s long-standing ruthlessness as well as the country’s fierce nationalism, in a context of regional instability and a border with Israel. Democracy activists are usually charged with “spreading false news that could weaken the national morale”, a grotesque charge that was used to justify the detention, for example, of the octogenarian human rights activist, Haitham al-Maleh, who attended the EP meeting on Wednesday.

However, we should not forget that the border with Israel, as well as the memory of the instability that preceded the al-Assad family rule, may make the majority prefer national security to the uncertainty of freedom.

Indeed, following the news about Syria’s brutal crackdown on democracy protestors, I remember those cries in unison, “with our soul and our blood”. In the end, what will the Syrians give their soul and blood to? Democracy or national security? Should not Europe work to bring about regional peace that will not require people to choose between the two?

Dr Attard Montalto is a Labour member of the European Parliament.