The first ransom demand came in a text message on Sami al-Izoo’s phone 10 days after he witnessed his brother being kidnapped, forced into a truck with dark tinted windows by six masked men.
Next came a video in which he said his brother, Abdulrazaq al-Izoo, 60, appeared with his hands tied and a black bag over his head, screaming as he was hit with a stick. Since then, the videos and threats have continued to buzz Mr. al-Izoo’s phone as he struggles to raise the $400,000 that the kidnappers want.
Mr. al-Izoo is not rich and says he does not know why his brother was targeted. He sold a couple of cars and is trying to sell his land, but he doubts that will be enough to cover the enormous sum. “If I sell everything I have, I won’t reach that amount,” he said from his home in Talbiseh, a suburb of the city of Homs, in central Syria.
The abduction is one of a spate of kidnappings in Syria since the rebel coalition that ousted President Bashar al-Assad in December took over. One of its first acts was to dismiss — at least temporarily — all government police and security officials.
The security forces were instruments of Mr. al-Assad’s oppressive regime, but some Syrians have criticized the decision to dissolve them. Though the new government has replaced some of the officials with its own members and quickly trained police officers, that force cannot sufficiently cover the country.
Sectarian tensions, opportunistic crime and desire for revenge have converged amid a security vacuum that has left many Syrians afraid to go out at night. Kidnappings — whether for ransom or revenge — happened in more than 13 years of civil war, but the situation poses a major test of the new government’s ability to keep the country stable.
The risk of upheaval was further highlighted in recent days as clashes between government security forces and gunmen loyal to the Assad regime erupted in Syria’s coastal region, with scores of people reported killed.
It is unclear how many people have been abducted over the past three months and who is behind the kidnappings. But family members and groups that monitor events in Syria have reported at least a dozen episodes around the country.
Syrians are demanding more police officers and checkpoints in the streets to crack down.
“They have to show their strength,” Mr. al-Izoo said of the new leaders. “They need to assert their authority and presence.”
Mr. al-Izoo, who does not know who kidnapped his brother, said that he had repeatedly asked the new local security forces in charge for help but had gotten nowhere. Security officials in Talbiseh and Homs said they were following up on the kidnapping but gave no further details.
Syria’s new leaders have at times played down safety concerns and said that they expected far worse security challenges and crimes after decades of dictatorship.
“Today there is security, though there are small incidents here and there,” Ahmed al-Shara, Syria’s interim president, said in an interview last month with an independent Syrian TV channel. But, he added, decades of “bad policies can’t be undone in a matter of days or weeks.”
The security situation is compounded by other problems, like a severe electricity shortage that leaves some neighborhoods dark at night. In several cities, residents say they have installed metal doors to protect against thieves, and some parents have stopped sending their children to school.
“Does the situation still need work? Yes,” said Lt. Col. Alaa Umran, the police chief for Homs Province who was appointed by the new government. “Why? Because we dissolved the security apparatus completely and we’re building a security apparatus anew, but it needs time.”
The new leaders ordered thousands of police officers, security officers and soldiers to undergo a “reconciliation” process, handing in their IDs, weapons and vehicles as they wait to be investigated. For now, those officers will not be allowed to join the police ranks, officials have said.
Colonel Umran defended the decision to dismiss regime security forces, calling them “an enemy of the people.”
Officials say they are training new police recruits as quickly as possible, graduating classes of 800 to 1,000 every few weeks. At a police training school in Damascus, the capital, last month, dozens of young men in dark blue uniforms marched in formation at their graduation after an abbreviated training. Some held their guns loosely, apparently not yet adept at handling them.
The Interior Ministry has said that the country needs 50,000 police officers in total and has far fewer than that, though it would not specify a number. All new police trainees will receive longer specialized training in the future, it said in response to questions.
The new government inherited a chaotic situation, which makes securing the country particularly challenging, said Issam al-Reis, a military adviser with Etana, a Syrian reporting and analysis organization.
“It is not fair to say that if they don’t succeed in establishing complete security within two or three months, that this is an indication of failure,” he said. “They need more time. They should be judged based on the size of the challenge.”
For now, many neighborhoods and towns have little or no police presence. At sundown, the streets of the Zahra neighborhood in Homs empties of its residents as they all head indoors.
On a recent morning, customers and well-wishers streamed into a vegetable shop to console its owner, Husam Kashi. Just a week before, he said, he was carjacked and kidnapped by two masked men. “Thank God for your safe return,” customers said as they shared news of other kidnappings.
His tight-knit Christian community and church came together within hours of his abduction to collect 28 million Syrian pounds — about $2,100 — which was enough to secure his release.
He has been on edge ever since, regularly looking over his shoulder.
“We want to feel safe again,” Mr. Kashi, a father of two, said as customers around him picked out lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers.
Come 5 p.m. he will close his shop, which used to stay open until 10 p.m., because the streetlights are out. There are also no police patrols, residents said, only a checkpoint at the entrance of the neighborhood staffed by a couple of young men.
Some families never receive a ransom demand. One February night, the Shadood brothers, Amjad, 25, and Mohammad, 26, called their mother, Rania Shadood, after midnight to let her know they were walking home from their restaurant jobs.
She stood in the doorway of their home keeping watch, but as the men neared the house, a large van came and stopped in front of them, Ms. Shadood said. She believes whoever was in the van was armed.
“My sons didn’t resist at all, but I could see them shrink away,” she said. “I ran toward them. All I saw was a hand reaching out, grabbing and dragging my younger son into the van,” before her older son got in as well.
Security forces combed the neighborhood but never found the van, she said. The kidnappers never contacted them.
About a week later their bodies were found by the side of a highway in a neighboring province, the family and the police said. The family is Alawite, a religious minority to which the ousted Assad family belong. Under the Assad government, Alawites dominated the ruling class and upper ranks of the military, and they now face attacks, threats and revenge killings.
“What was their sin? They were coming home tired and hungry,” Ms. Shadood, 47, said. “They never hurt anyone.”
The Shadood extended family sat in a dimly lit room, mostly dressed in black after three days of mourning. Though the brothers were gone, they appealed for the government to do more to keep others safe.
“I don’t want another mother to cry like me,” Ms. Shadood said.
Muhammad Haj Kadour contributed reporting.
