Gaiia Foundation
Hares Youssef

Hares Youssef is a futurist thinker, digital economics ideologist, philanthropist, writer and artist.

I was born in the province of Latakia into a very low-income family. We lived in a clay house, and we had no electricity, water, telephone, or TV. Nevertheless, I managed to visit the world in which people lived thousands of years ago, knowing nothing about modern civilization and its so-called benefits. I grew up close to nature, and the land gave my family everything. Since childhood, I considered the earth as a living being, as a Mother and a giver. The history of my native Latakia is connected with Mother because it's named after Laodicea, the mother of its founder Seleucus I Nicator.

As I grew older, I moved out of my childhood home. First, I moved to a small town, then to the capital of Syria before moving to the Soviet Union, where I entered a military school. A symbolic story is related to this event, as I never intended to be a cadet. I wrote poetry, was full of creative inspiration, and constantly criticized the Army, military equipment, and everything connected with it. I entered the Damascus Institute of Architecture, I won a place in the contest, and I was delighted to become an architect. One day, my uncle invited me over. He held a high position as a well-known politician. He convinced me that I had to leave and study in the military school (through the Ministry of Defence). I believed him because, at that time, we both thought this educational institution also trained architects. But that was not the case. I was discouraged when I realized that I was going to the Soviet Union, and studying architecture wasn't an option. I didn't know what would come next.

I remember how I entered the office, either of the general or colonel, where I had to choose my future speciality. He put the list before me and awaited my decision. Each option involved moving to a particular city. I focused on those professions that were foreign to me, and I didn't know what to do. None of my classmates had that choice, and, it seems, I should be happy with my privilege, but all I felt at the time was disappointment, frustration and shock. In response to the interrogatory look of a person who noticed my indecision, I admitted that I wanted to become an architect. He answered: "I don't have a 'career fair' for you, so you have to choose among the options." Behind that general or colonel, there was a geographic map with the flags of the USSR. After getting over the excitement, I asked permission to choose not from the list but from the map. There were names of cities, but they meant nothing to me. Finally, I pointed the finger at Kyiv. There were only three options: a tank school, an aviation school, or an anti-aircraft missile school. And I chose aviation.

When I arrived in Kyiv, I was depressed, I stopped eating and drinking, I refused to attend classes. I didn't want to be there. I bide my time and waited to leave. That summer, I left Kyiv and told my uncle that I would never go back. But he confronted me and advised me that I could not do architecture because obligations bound me to the Ministry of Defence. My uncle wanted me to graduate, so I had to return. They transferred me from an aviation school to a tank school, where the cadets had more freedom, but it was four years before I left. I deserted from the Army, and they caught me. Then I spent three more years trying to escape and free myself from my obligations to the Ministry. My uncle's friends, who had already left the country due to disagreements with the president, helped me.